Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ROSAMUND
The panic. The terror. The feeling I’m dying all over again.
I haven’t had such an anxiety attack in a long while. I never thought I’d be back to hiding in the dark, in my bed, the covers pulled up to my nose. It should feel cozy, or even too warm, but shivers rack me.
It feels as if my life is collapsing around me.
Gods, I miss my mother.
Around my neck, I’m wearing one of the necklaces she left me, a silver chain with the medallion of a dragon, together with the locket with her picture inside.
She loved nature and its many creatures.
She loved winged dragons—the small darakins, and the larger draks, even the enormous dara that never touch the ground.
She also loved the Eosphors, the winged, humanoid beings hanging from the firmament, kin to Astar Jaien, who still lives with his consort Aethre, the dragon maiden, close to the Central Sea, two of the Eternals.
She used to be fascinated by the fae, too, until the attack.
You like what you don’t understand until it snaps you up, chews you bloody, and spits you out. Then the monsters don’t seem so pretty anymore, do they?
I shouldn’t wish for her to be here and comfort me. She’s long gone, and I’m an adult. I should be strong enough to stand on my own two feet.
Despite the monster outside my door. Despite the perilous path ahead.
Honestly, I don’t want to think, don’t want to look. I keep hoping I’ll sleep, wake up, and realize it was yet another nightmare.
I’ve never hoped so much to find myself in a nightmare, but nightmares eventually end, and you realize you’re safe.
“My lady,” a voice says, and I jerk.
I lift my head and find Della beside the bed. “What is it?”
“My lady… should we give him water and food?”
I blink in confusion. “What?”
“The werewolf.” Her expression is pained. “I know the task of dealing with him shouldn’t fall on you, but he hasn’t been offered anything since he was brought to the manor. Maybe—”
“I don’t care,” I snap.
“… Yes, my lady.”
“Let him starve and die.”
She gives a small curtsy, face blank. “Of course.”
Damn. The urge to pull the covers over my head and never resurface is overwhelming. That’s a bad sign. Sinking into the dread and panic is never a good idea.
So I make myself sit up, dizzy and wild-haired, in my wrinkled chemise and stockings. “What do I do? What am I going to do now?”
“My lady? Do you need help? Shall I draw a bath for you and call for some breakfast?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, let’s do that. Bath, breakfast, and then I need to start packing for the journey.”
Della’s mouth trembles. “There is still time.”
“I’d rather start before Stepfather decides to kick me out in the clothes I’m wearing,” I whisper, slowly coming to understand that it’s a possibility. “Something has changed in his plans, and I don’t know what it is.”
“Here.” Della takes my hand. “Let me help.”
I let her pull me to my feet, realizing that I won’t have such comforts for long, not when I’m about to plunge into the wilderness, expecting my own bodyguard to snack on me.
Unless the sword Stepfather promised is real…
The sword doesn’t make an appearance yet, though. Nor do I leave my room. As promised, Della arranges for a wooden tub and buckets of hot water to be carried upstairs to fill it. Meanwhile, she sends word to the kitchens for food, and soon enough, a manservant comes up with a loaded tray.
I’m not hiding from reality, I tell myself. I’m not turning a blind eye to the truth of my situation. I’m merely resting, restoring my strength and clarity of mind.
Preparing for battle.
And here I’d been fearing my arrival at my betrothed’s house.
Not the way there. Not so much, despite knowing that a journey through the plains could prove dangerous.
Traveling in a carriage with human bodyguards sounded pretty safe, and I was prepared for possible contingencies.
Ready to use my short sword and my limited training with the manor’s old sword master, my wits, and my determination to get to my destination.
Yeah, I never thought I might not make it far from the manor before I’m torn to pieces.
The servants leave, and Della helps me out of my robe and undergarments. It’s a relief to step into the hot water, gather in my knees, and let her scrub my back with scented soap. It smells of roses and mint, and my eyes close as she wets my hair and sets about lathering it.
“I could run away,” I whisper. “Steal a horse and run.”
“My lady…” Her hands go still on my hair.
“Run to the capital. Or no, wait, better to a small town at the rim. Nobody will look for me at the world’s end.”
“It’s dangerous out there,” she says tightly. “You’re not a mercenary. You will be captured and sold—”
“To the dark fae? Is it any worse than traveling with one?”
“My lady…” She moves so that she’s facing me, letting her wet hands float in the water of the tub. “What if he doesn’t attack you? What if that sword can really protect you?”
I scoff. “A mysterious sword belonging to my mother, that I’ve never heard about before now. And it has the power to control werewolves?”
“It does sound far-fetched,” she agrees with a small wince. “However, there is a lot we don’t know about the magic of this world. And about this werewolf outside your door.”
I frown at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken a liking to him, Della?”
She shakes her head, a smile flitting over her lips. “Of course not. I mean, he’s handsome, but that’s not—”
“He’s a wolf!”
She jerks a little, paling. “I know.”
“No, you don’t.” Tamping down the vehemence is hard. “You don’t. You think the handsome facade is a mirror of his soul? That he would act like a human? That he won’t attack me at the first opportunity, feast on me and run? Well, think again.”
She nods, mouth pursed. “You’re right. You know better. Let’s hope that this sword will make a difference.”
I shake my head. Should I keep up hope?
“If Stepfather had found such a valuable magical item,” I tell her regretfully, because I can see how much she wants to believe it, “he would never give it to me. In fact… for some reason, I think he decided to get rid of me.”
“My lady...”
“I won’t give up so easily,” I reassure her, although on the heels of the anxiety attack, I feel wrung out and exhausted.
“What will you do?”
I gesture for her to lean closer and drop my voice to a whisper. “I’ll demand extra chains. Extra men. And then we’ll abandon him somewhere, throw him down a gulley, and continue on our way.”
“Yes, my lady. Yes.” Her eyes shine. “Save yourself.”
“I intend to.” I glare at the closed door and the creature behind it. “This time I won’t let the wolves take me.”
Men or wolves. I’ve learned not to trust either, and I’ll be damned if I give up now.