Chapter 5. I Have No Home.
Francis took a step inside the room, his eyes fixated on Caleb.
“Francis.” Caleb cleared his throat.
“What did I say about seeing you next to her again?” Francis’ voice dropped, not a hint of a smile remained. “I can see that you have healed from the wound I gave you, perhaps you need another.” He pointed his finger at Caleb’s chest. “Right here. What do you say, brother?”
“I am not here to fight.” Caleb moved closer to the exit, away from me. His left leg dragged behind him—the leg I stabbed the night before.
“I see I am not your only foe.” Francis snickered, glancing at Caleb’s injury.
Caleb merely shook his head when his gaze fell upon me. “You are not,” he sighed. “Please believe me, Cordelia,” he said at last without sparing Francis a glance. “We need each other. If you tell me where the archives are, I will—”
“You will go to hell.” Francis unsheathed his silver dagger, stepping in between Caleb and I. “And I will personally send you there.”
“Please.” Caleb put his hands up in surrender. “I am merely trying to help—”
“You will help by leaving and never showing your face here or at the castle ever again.” Francis raised his dagger.
“You are making a mistake.” Caleb retreated.
“The only mistake I made was trusting you.” Francis cornered him, until Caleb’s back met the door frame. “Leave before this dagger finds its place in your heart.” He growled.
Caleb drew a small breath, reaching for the hilt of my sword strapped to his back.
I swallowed at the sight of the gift my long resting father had left me. The only memory of Father was held by the one who contributed to the deaths of his wife and children. The only memory of him was now a threat to my life.
Francis moved in an instant. His hands visibly shook as he brought the dagger to Caleb’s throat, yet it was me who spoke, “How dare you threaten me with my own sword?” I moved to Francis’ side.
“I was merely returning what is rightfully yours.” Caleb froze.
“How generous of you.” Francis rolled his eyes, reluctantly retreating his dagger so slightly.
In one smooth motion, Caleb unsheathed my sword, holding out the hilt towards me. “Please consider my offer.”
“Out.” Francis pointed the dagger at the door. “Now.”
“You know where to find me.” Caleb threw over the shoulder, showing himself out.
When the main door slammed shut Francis’ eyes found mine. His features relaxed as he put his dagger into the scabbard; his amber eyes filled with relief. “Cordelia,” he whispered.
Dark brown curls fell around his face, his soft, bronze jaw now wore a scar; my fingers itched for a touch.
I took a step backwards when his hands reached for mine. “I have to go.” I mumbled, attaching the sword to my belt.
I didn’t know you. I wasn’t in love with you, Cordelia.
“I was worried.” His hands dropped to his sides. “I woke and you were gone.”
“You needn’t worry yourself.” I shrugged, moving towards the door.
Did he get the scar while rescuing me from the palace? Was he injured with Royal steel?
I wasn’t in love—
“Where are you going?” Francis’ charged after me. “Cordelia!” He yelled when I escaped the cabin and broke into a run.
The piercing frost bit my bare feet; the cool wind brushed through my tousled braid—
The horses were only a few yards away when Francis’ hand caught my waist. “Cordelia!”
“Let go of me, Francis!” I fought his strong hold—in vain. “I must go!”
“Tell me where you are going and I might consider it.” His grip tightened.
“Let go!” A roar broke through my throat as I freed myself, charging towards the forest; Annabelle long forgotten.
“Cordelia!”
The frost embraced my bare feet, the cold snow pricked my flesh with dozens of needles; I ran faster.
“Cordelia!” Francis raced after me.
I unsheathed the dagger Francis had gifted me so long ago when his steps shortened the distance.
Could I hurt him?
Would I hurt him?
“Where are you going, Princess?” He pulled on the end of my tunic, his other hand wrapping around me anew.
“Let go!” I screamed when my feet stumbled upon themselves, dragging us both to the ground. “You won’t stop me!” I struggled against Francis’ body atop mine.
“Stop you from what?” His face was mere inches from mine.
Without a second thought I brought my dagger to his throat. My hand shook, yet I held it firmly near his exposed skin.
Francis’ brows rose as he assessed the threat before he asked again, “Stop you from what, Princess?”
His amber eyes showed no bother by the weapon at his neck. Was he doubting my skill?
“Let go.” I whispered, my hand moving the blade closer.
“The sun has set, we must go home.” Francis’ voice turned stern.
Home. Kane has taken my home.
“I have no home.”
“You do.” Francis moved a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Now put the dagger down and let’s go.”
I shook my head; my lips trembled, my grasp on the hilt hardened.
In a swift motion Francis disarmed me, pinning my hands above my head.
“If I have to drag you back to the castle, I will.”
“I am staying here.” I seethed.
Francis sighed. “All right then.” He reached for my waist. “Some might think you just like being carried around by me.”
I wrestled with his hold, the words spilling before I could stop them. “I am going to kill Kane.”
Francis froze, his knees still pressing against my hips. The silence stretched in between us as Francis’ eyes studied mine. “Cordelia...” He shook his head.
“Don’t.” I croaked. “Save your pity for someone else.”
Snow surrounded every inch of my flesh, its cold grasp pulling me under.
Francis pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you even going to kill him with?” He leaned closer. “With a silver dagger? Come now, Cordelia, it’s not safe here.”
“I am going to kill him with fire.” My jaw clenched.
Would fire burn the same as sunshine?
I would find out soon enough, for Kane would not allow me to walk away unharmed; I would gladly burn alongside him.
“I suppose fire is better than a dagger, yet still not good enough. Let’s go.” Francis gathered to his feet, pulling me alongside him.
“I am not your responsibility.” I freed my hand from his grasp.
“You are now.” He brushed the snow off my head. “You are part of the family.” He took a step towards the horses. When I didn’t move he sighed, “Please, Cordelia, I am so sorry for what I had done to you, and I am so sorry—”
“You did what you had to do,” I interrupted. “I understand.”
Francis’ amber eyes bored into mine as though contemplating his next words.
“Charlotte has been waiting for you at the castle,” he whispered.
“She was very worried about you.” My lips turned into a thin line at what he said next.
“I promise you that we will come back here if within a week I’m unable to come up with a better plan. I swear it to you.”
I closed my eyes, thinking of little Charlotte. The memory turned into my little siblings.
The last thing I’d ever told them was a promise I could not have kept.
We will dance all day tomorrow.
Tomorrow... The day they had turned seven.
I promised Charlotte I would see her again. I should say my goodbyes to her, I owe her at least that. “All right.” I gave up. “One week.”