The Ones Who Serve

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The Ones Who Serve Page 8

by Jennifer Kenny


  It was a simple belief and one that had her climbing the stairs, two at a time, towards the messenger birds. Sable had been quick to get her usual raven to take refuge within the Braykith tower, and it was good luck that kept it from being discovered. Swiftly capturing it, she attached the note to the leg, petting the animal softly before releasing it into the world as quickly as possible. Watching the raven become nothing more than a speck in the wind, she realised too late she was not alone.

  Wick stood at the top of the stairs. Her clothes could not hide her ruined figure. Stringy dark hair sprouted from her head, rough from roots to tip. Wick’s skin was sunken and clung to the distorted frame; one foot revealed from the hem of her skirts as she kept balance at the top of the stairs. Sable shuddered at her disfigured body, the way her hands were too small and her head too large for the rest of her frame. Her silence only made Wick more intense, and Sable took a moment before she managed to take a small but shaky breath. Wick did not seem at all threatened by her, and Sable felt Wick might be the only one in the castle who could convince Evangeline that Sable was more than a poor girl just looking to find her way in the world.

  Even the garment she wore only made her appear less usual, the Braykith seamstress unable to save her although she accommodated for all types of physique to perfection. Wick simply would never fit in, and she did not seem at all fazed by such opinions. If she was, Wick hid it under the immovable mask of her face.

  “Who are you corresponding with?” Wick asked. Her voice creaked from underuse, her broken tone was only adding layers to her already repulsive form. Even when she spoke, there was no emotion or change to her facial features. She gave nothing away.

  “No one.” Sable lied, not willing to admit to doing anything if Wick had not seen for herself that she had indeed sent the bird.

  “Then why are you here?” Wick picked each word carefully. The fear of accidentally causing her own death was always there, and even in ordinary conversation, she feared what she might reveal. Her words were spaced apart slightly too much and analysed before being placed in the world. The technique made her seem small minded.

  Sable knew better than to believe that there was anything wrong mentally with the strange woman. She had not known her long, and most of what Sable knew about Wick had been county gossip which couldn’t be trusted. There was a spark in the servant’s eyes and a sureness in her walk that made Sable more aware of Wick’s intelligent mind. “I like to look out the windows.” Sable tried to smile, but the motion was strained. “This is the highest point of the castle, and I don’t mind the birds.” Sable had convinced herself that it was a believable lie, and yet as she said it, there was doubt on if Wick would believe her.

  With no further proof except she did not like her, Wick was forced to nod. “You should not be here at this time. Evangeline will need us to remain close.”

  Sable nodded. “I’m sorry. I am still so new at this.” She smiled, and this one settled more naturally on her face. It was not well received, and Wick gave her nothing but a piercing look in return. “What do you suppose the King will do with her brother?” Sable asked, but it seemed the conversation was over. Wick gestured to the stairs, and after a moment's hesitation Sable left the window and walked down them.

  She could feel Wick’s eyes in her back, unblinking and calculating, trying to decide if this girl could ever be trusted. Sable was sure with every step that Wick would suddenly push her. She had witnessed several times herself that Wick’s frail looking body was not weak at all, and Wick worked with the vigour that even the youngest of servants failed to maintain. She could surely push her down the stairs.

  Wick never did. She struggled with each step but kept up with Sable. Never once did Wick consider pushing her, and never once did she speak. Wick hobbled beside Sable, escorting her silently through the halls and returning to Evangeline’s chamber where she set herself to her daily tasks and ensured that Sable stayed within her range of sight at all times.

  Someday, she would get proof of this woman’s intentions, but until those moments came to pass, Wick would do as she had sworn to do. Protect Evangeline from the horrors of Braykith castle.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  T he trees were starting to trust the ground again, their branches making their way lower towards the earth that nourished them and seemed to Evangeline to find peace. For what had once been intimidating upon her arrival, Evangeline was now sure to spend time within the trees that lived in the castle grounds. Specifically, though, she was drawn to the trees that stayed closest to her living quarters. They seemed to be thriving best, and while she had no proof of such a notation, she did believe that the trees were getting closer to her, leaning towards the harsh castle and finding solace in her presence.

  Somehow, she knew the trees were unoccupied. It did not take much for Evangeline to understand that no Dryad would dare come to live so close to Braykith, even if the soil was more approachable. If Evangeline lived here for all her days and if by some grace from Xado her children possessed the naturally restorative dryad magic that laid within her own blood, the wood spirits would never come so close to the lingering evils of the curse. With a gentle sigh, Evangeline leant back against the tree and pressed her palm against it. There was life within the tree, but it was nothing more than the living pulse of nature. A breeze moved lazily through the leaves, and Evangeline felt it brush gently against her hair and skin. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a pure moment of relaxation in the world.

  Nature had always been her retreat. She had known from a young age that her interaction with the natural order of things was odd for a girl. Truthfully, finding out that it was the dryad’s magic had been a blessing for Evangeline. Suddenly, her childhood made so much sense. She relaxed against the tree trunk, taking a deep breath in. It seemed like the tree itself took a breath with her. Lazily she opened her eyes to see people coming towards her.

  Thomas was making strides on the way to her before Evangeline even realised she was about to be disturbed. While she was glad to see that it was not Glais, she wished some other guards could be sent to her. Her life was beyond complicated and seeing him only made everything worse instead of better. The way she felt for him was not proper, and Kyleigh had been obvious in her warnings. The emotions that coursed through Evangeline now could never be indulged in any way beyond her own thoughts. Seeing Thomas, even if he was just in his royal guard uniform, only put her wits to war against her heart. Every time she saw him, Evangeline needed to remind herself that Thomas was not permitted. However, it was a losing battle.

  Sable was leading him to her, and Evangeline pulled herself away from the tree as they approached. She had not even seen Sable; her eyes were distracted by Thomas walking towards her. “I am sorry Eva to interrupt your meditation, but Thomas insisted.” Sable generally seemed out of sorts, but Evangeline was quick to put her at rest. It had been a long few days for them all.

  “It is quite alright. My time is never quite my own, even when it is scheduled.” Evangeline smiled, but Thomas did not join her.

  He faltered once in his greeting. He wished for nothing more than to spare Evangeline from this news. He did not know what kind of meeting he was delivering her into, and that unknowing hurt him. “My lady,” Thomas paused, clearing his throat gently before he was able to find his voice. “I have come with news of your brother’s fate.” Immediately, Evangeline stood up straighter. Even Sable seemed to stand at attention at his announcement.

  “What has been decided?” Evangeline left her place but stopped before she reached Thomas. Her hands were shaking at her sides, and Thomas’ expression was giving nothing away. Her heart was frozen, waiting to know if it was free to beat again or will it be broken? “Thomas?” Evangeline took his gloved hand, but it did not linger.

  “You have been requested at the grand room to witness the final judgement.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “I have not been told what they plan Evangeline. Do not ask m
e.” Thomas bowed to her, their eyes linked by shared concerned for Darius. Thomas had come with the intention of being professional and a representative of his King. However, seeing her like this ruined all of his best intentions and all that he thought he knew.

  He was far better at pretending nothing hurt him, and Thomas had proven that to her time and time again. Since she had known him, Thomas had shown her how his true emotions laid bury under a blank face. Evangeline was his opposite in this regard. The pain and loss, which for now seemed like a threatening wave that vowed to destroy her, was easy to read on her face. Her lips trembled and opened as if to speak, but there was no question she could ask him.

  Immediately Thomas moved to console her before Evangeline realised she needed his support to stay standing. He grabbed her hands, and Evangeline did not pull them back as she fell against his stable form. “I believe this is good news,” Thomas murmured into her loose curls. Wick had spent extra time on her hair today, curling and pinning the dark strands until they were piled neatly on her head. She looked up to meet his eyes, and all she could feel was his heart beat in time with her own, the world slipping away from them for just a moment and Evangeline rose on her toes. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and kept her there in a tight embrace that stilled even the slightest tremors. Evangeline was almost lost in the embrace when she felt a shift around them.

  She could feel Sable’s reaction rather than see it. Her eyes opened, and Evangeline saw her friend, standing awkwardly with no idea on what direction she should look. Evangeline knew the emotions as they flashed over her eyes and face. The girl was uncertain and perhaps disgusted by what she was witnessing here. Evangeline had no time to deal with such things now, and she could not be certain if she could explain this to Sable when it barely made sense to herself. She looked away and backed off Thomas slowly. “How can you be so sure?” Evangeline asked, giving Thomas her focus although there was nothing to be done with the itching on her back from Sable’s eyes.

  “I know you do not think much of our King, and question his motives at times, but asking for you to come to the grand room is a sign of sharing his decision, and perhaps allowing you a moment to intervene.” Thomas’ eyes darted back and forth between her own as he tried to judge her moods, but Evangeline was too shocked to give away much. “He would not cause you undue pain.”

  She scoffed lightly, shaking her head at the suggestion. “Quintus had always been adamant about my place and my use here in Braykith,” Evangeline told Thomas, feeling the pressure of his hands around her own. She knew that Quintus had a limited view that was not recognised by everyone, but it was impossible to ignore his low opinion of her when his opinions were the only ones that mattered. “Quintus makes and gives lives and attributes to those he feels are needy. The fact I am here at all is the only proof of this Thomas, and you cannot convince me otherwise.” She took a shaky breath, and Thomas produced a handkerchief to catch her tears before they could fall. “Perhaps he only means to give me an audience so that I may say my goodbyes.”

  “And perhaps you could save a life.” Thomas smiled gently as he wiped at the rim of her eyes. “Perhaps you could rise to the occasion Eva and remind others that the crown you wear is not just lovely, but means something.” Thomas kissed her cheek instead of her lips, surprised by his own inability to edit their relationship in front of Sable. He was a foolish man, but he would not destroy Evangeline’s reputation more than this interaction already has. “There are many perhaps that we could ponder, but only answers can be found if you deliver yourself to the rooms now.”

  Evangeline nodded. “Of course, yes. They will not wait for my response.” She agreed with Thomas. There would always be more questions she could ask, and more predictions that would take over her rational thoughts, but Thomas was correct. Only by arriving before Quintus could they find the truth. “Who will be present?” she asked, leading the way back towards the castle proper, lifting her dress skirts to take a more substantial step than what the dress dictated was proper.

  “Quintus has been in lengthy discussions with his Generals, and with the returning soldier. I believe only Glais and the witnesses remain. I cannot be certain if that has changed since I left.” Thomas apologised, and Evangeline nodded.

  Evangeline knew that it would not matter who was left when she arrived because the decision had been made. Thomas could speak high praise of the king all he liked, and yet Evangeline could never see Quintus in this way. She knew that Quintus had made this choice without her, and however he was demanding that Evangeline stand witness to the fate of her only living relative. It could be both a blessing and a curse that she had been called, but as she approached the grand building, all she could sense was fear and despair being the only outcome.

  Thomas and Sable could not dare to keep up with her, and while Evangeline did not run the corridors of the castle in an effort to arrive sooner, she was faster than any walk that could be deemed lady-like. Evangeline did not wait to be announced, and she did not wait for Thomas either. She opened the doors to the grand room herself and felt all eyes land upon her at once.

  Looking around the grand stage, it was Glais who reached out to her first. She took his outstretched hand and was pulled into the space beside him where a wife should stand with her husband, but she did not look at him. In truth, she barely recognised that he was using his hands to straighten her hair and brushed a smudge from her cheek because her eyes were dancing around the room trying to judge what would come to pass.

  The king was there as she had expected, and the Braykith soldier Grant was sitting in a chair to the left. He seemed to be favouring one of his sides but otherwise looked surprisingly well. Many other chairs were assembled yet stood empty. The generals that Thomas had mentioned must have sat there during the meeting. She could not see Darius, and a knot twisted in her gut.

  “Am I too late?” Evangeline asked as she looked up at Glais finally, and was reassured when he shook his head.

  “No. It is fine.” He kissed her forehead, the only place he would dare attempt to show affection in public. He only picked to do it now as a show to his father, that he had indeed learnt to handle his wife and that she would not be out of control as Quintus feared she might become. He did not know how much of this act Quintus believed, but the believability would only increase with the longer they held firm to the charade.

  Standing side by side, the door staying closed behind them, Quintus cleared his throat. “I apologise for taking so long with this arrangement Eva.” He started, addressing Evangeline directly. “It has been a troubling few days, and the weeks leading to this unexpected news only makes it all the harder to bear.”

  Evangeline fell into a curtsey, holding her dress out to the side as she did. “Of course, Quintus. We are all very shocked by the quietness of Crimah and the dramatic arrival of my brother.” She carefully scanned the room again, but he could not be seen. “Baxter was only new in my life, and I cannot imagine the hurt his death has had within the Kingdom. My heart continues to be pained with the sudden loss that none of us could be prepared for.”

  Quintus nodded, recognising her words. “I am struggling with being fair to your brother,” Quintus admitted, running his hand along his beard and still agitated but not sharing with them that news right away. “After all, the death of my son calls for vengeance, and it seems that Darius is the Earl of Crimah now. The responsibility lies on his shoulders.”

  Evangeline felt her heart jump, but before she could speak or move, Glais gave her hand a subtle clench. She remained as she was, watching Quintus and internalising her proclamation on how criminal this justice is.

  “It was Glais here who pointed out that it was not Crimah who killed Baxter, but rather the rebellion horde, and so my vengeance is to be with them.” Quintus looked to his son, but Glais said nothing.

  Evangeline looked up at Glais, seeing the strength in the way he held himself. He looked straight ahead, his eyes on his father as if he had not
just attempted to protect a life. Glais was unmovable, and at times untouchable, and yet he continued to save her. She was breathless for a moment until Quintus brought her back to the room with a soft cough.

  “It is with some uncertainty that I leave the final decision with you, Eva.” She looked at the King suddenly at the sound of her name.

  “Me?” she asked and received a firm nod in return. “Why would you entrust this with me?” She could not save her brother and keep Quintus satisfied. There was no discussion to be had.

  “Simply put, Glais and I cannot seem to agree on what will serve the Kingdom of Braykith best, and keep you loyal to your marriage.” Quintus paused, but Evangeline and Glais gave nothing away on their reactions. “Regardless, the fate of your brother has two possible outcomes.”

  Evangeline felt she was holding her breath as she waited for Quintus to give his final decree.

  “Darius will be given a horse, supplies, and a deed to a small bit of land where he can live the remainder of his days,” Quintus said, and clearly favoured this option. “His second option is to remain within our castle as Glais’ squire.”

  Evangeline blinked, and again she looked up at her husband to judge his reaction. Glais was like a chiselled statue at her side, magnificent and without reply to her questioning gaze. “Must I decide this moment?” Evangeline asked. She had things she needed to ask Glais, essential questions and possibly demands that would never sit well with his father.

 

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