Just like the screams, silence followed before another round of out of sync hits into the ground started. A low rumble echoed as one by one, in a seemingly random order that never quite repeated the one before it, the people on the field remained shockingly still and beat the earth with stern fists. Slowly, stillness took over the grounds again and this time it stayed. Evangeline watched with bated breath as she saw parts of Sable relaxing into her natural posture. Her body stopped looking so stiff, and she appeared far calmer than moments ago. This time, when Sable opened her eyes, they focused on Evangeline’s face. Although Sable looked tired, Evangeline saw nothing to cause her concern. If she had been possessed, it had been cleared. Whatever had just happened here, it had been salvation.
“Eva?” Sable said, and Evangeline nodded, too overcome to speak. “What happened?”
“I think we created a miracle.” Evangeline covered her mouth to keep in the laughter, but it did not work. Emotion spilt from her unguarded as Evangeline looked around to see the repeating small miracles touch spots both near and far. The success rate was higher than Evangeline had imagined, and Thomas seemed to have reached everyone in time. With small tears gripping the corner of her eyes, Evangeline’s joy was quickly squandered when she noticed that Wick still lay hopelessly on the ground under Glais’ unmoving form.
Glais had her head on his lap, the Prince far away in his own sea of loss as Wick continued to lay stiff and unresponsive. Her hand sustained the last motion, following the rhythm to make a fist and beating at the ground although she had no control over it. Without thought or excuses, Evangeline abandoned Sable to join her husband, attempting to brush Wick’s hair back from her face. Even the strands of her hair refused to move, and Evangeline was shocked to learn that the stiffness that had infected her body continued to claim the strands of her hair as well, so it did not move as freely as it should have. Had Sable been struck so frozen just moments before? Evangeline could not recall.
“Just wait,” The words were barely heard as Evangeline spoke them, but tears rolled down her cheeks now as she looked down at Wick’s body. She might have been frustrated with Wick’s silence, but she had been a rare companion at times, and it was undoubtedly that Evangeline would miss her. The castle would seem a little less welcoming without Wick in it. Evangeline was not surprised that she would mourn her loss, should the worst come to pass.
Glais stayed where he was as others were helped to their feet and given blankets to warm their bodies against the chill of midnight. He barely registered that Evangeline was even at his side, and he could not be bothered to know the fates of those others that surrounded him. He was locked his own private world that was focused solely on Wick and every small twitch she made. Staring into the blank face of his childhood friend, Glais prayed silently to himself afraid that giving the words a voice may break something that would not be repaired. He ignored the patron God of Braykith, Notas. Instead, Glais would only speak directly to Xado with a passion he had never felt before and with a desperation he had never thought possible. It seemed unnatural to be moved in such ways, and yet the praying continued in time to the beat of his own heart.
Glais closed his eyes, not wanting to witness as Wick passed from this life and into the next when without warning Wick relaxed. Just moments ago, Glais had known her body was an empty vessel completely devoid of life, and then Glais felt Wick fill her space again. He could not explain it better than that. There was no gentle waking or fluttering of her eyelashes as Sable had done as if Wick had just woken from sleep. Instead, Wick had the deep breathing of a hard-won fight. For others, they had been deemed worthy by whatever entity that had been brewed with that plant, and it seemed there was no after effects for them. Wick had fought the battle and had won.
“Wick?” Glais whispered her name, Evangeline holding her hand over her mouth as she barely believed what she had witnessed. Wick’s eyes focused on his, but there was no word of comfort from her lips. The smallest of smiles tugged on the side of her mouth, but before Glais could see the motion be fully formed, Wick went limp against his hold.
Instantly, Glais pulled for the only weapon he had. The curse was startled awake by his demand, the focus that Glais had on Wick, and the demand for information seemed to surprise the serpent before compliance. It snaked over her form, an invisible force that no one could see. The examination was over within a blink of an eye, and the curse was crammed back into the cage that Glais kept it in. There would be a price to pay for this unusual interaction but Glais would pay it. There was a person inside the body. Her eyes remained closed still without even a flicker of movement, but her breath was even, and she seemed without pain. Glais could hear her heartbeat in his own ears, the lingering tendrils of his curse carrying the sound to his ears like a seduction. He let out a slow breath as he deemed her stable and indeed one of the survivors.
“I’m going to get Wick to her room,” Glais said, taking the offered blanket that Thomas held out for her.
Evangeline nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?” She asked as she rose.
“No.” Glais did not mean for his words to sound harsh and when Evangeline shrunk back from him, he wanted to apologise. “You have work to do here. We were each given a charge. I will care for Wick, and you must tend to Sable. I will report back to you before bed.” Glais rose and carried Wick effortlessly, and Evangeline watched him walk away. His only concern seemed to be getting Wick to a safe place.
***
While he was still carrying her, Wick opened her eyes and was surprised to see it was Glais who was moving her through the castle. The smile which almost hit her lips was stopped before her face could change from its solemn expression. Her lips felt dry, and her throat was sore for reasons she was not entirely clear of but did not ask for those particulars now. If Glais was carrying her, then much had come to pass.
“The last time you held me like this, you thought I was dead,” she whispered her words, feeling the slight stumble in his steps as Glais realised at the sound of her broken voice that Wick was awake in his arms. It seemed that nothing had changed in Wick. Her skin remained tight to her skin, her face just slightly too large for her slender frame. She had her hands crossed over her front, the blanket covering her nudity and the absurd extremes that her frame now held due to Glais and the family curse.
He had hoped that the tonic Evangeline had fetched as a cure could have returned Wick to some of her former beauty. Her voice remained strained, and her hair was dull and lifeless against her skull. However, the tonic had saved her, and for that Glais would be eternally grateful to Evangeline, Thomas, and Gretchen.
“Almost believed it again,” Glais confessed, and the pair fell into a silence which Glais did not find strained or uncomfortable. He knew that others struggled with understanding Wick and the stillness she caused just by entering a room. Evangeline had complained several times about Wick and her inability to communicate traditionally unless it was of dire consequence, but Glais had never found it intimidating or unnatural. Perhaps because he had been the one to cause the change in her, Glais was more accepting of the fate she had chosen for herself.
He brought her to her room, not pausing in the modest sitting room which had been cleaned since this morning and evidence taken away. Glais casually laid Wick in her bed, not tucking her into sleep but seemed to find it an appropriate spot to leave her as he turned away quickly.
Embarrassed, and imagining the worst, Wick pulled the blanket tighter around herself. She knew that she was no longer a creature of vitality and that her body would never appeal to a man, even on his darkest and intoxicated moments but to have Glais leave her hurt Wick in a way she did not describe. Their relationship had changed over the course of their lifetime, but never did she feel rejected. The word caused a lump in Wick’s throat as she released a shaky breath and knew that she could hardly blame him.
Without her clothes to hide behind, there was no denying that Wick must appear sick and grotesque to the p
rince. Her skin was sticky, and a vile taste sitting in the back of her throat did not get better as the smell of spoilt milk joined the air around her. She laid where Glais had left her, trying to think of a way to bathe without causing herself injury when Wick was surprised to hear the sloshing of water in buckets and the click of flint being struck together to make a flame.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she was glad to see that the worst assumptions had been internal, her body to stubborn to ever voice her concerns aloud even in an empty room. She scolded herself for ever thinking less of Glais and his intentions as she listened to water being prepared. Glais was gone for several moments, only once sticking his head into the bedroom to check that she was still conscious. He seemed poised to ask her a question, but when Wick had attempted to sit up, Glais had disappeared once more. When he returned for a second time, he was holding a bath towel.
“I know you could have done better, but I tried.” He smiled the smallest of smiles and approached the bed. With the curtains left open behind him, Wick could make out a strange concoction of scent, the reek of her own body mixing with the air from the window and the burning of wood for a fire. He assisted in trading the blanket for the towel, and when Glais tried to grab her up in his arms one more, Wick shoved him off and silently insisted that she make her own way.
Wick was slow to move, not offering a smile in response or even a click of the tongue as she breathed in the smell of burning wood from the nearby bathroom. Usually, they used a bucket to wash, the bath sitting unused in the corner since it took time and effort that was not practical most days. When Wick walked carefully into the bathing chambers now, she saw it had been moved a little away from the wall and the shallow tub was filled as deep as it could manage.
“I couldn’t find any perfumes or salt.” Glais apologised.
“We do not have it,” Wick said simply.
“Why not?” Glais was not one to soak in baths for extended periods of times, but he knew the assortment of fragrances and additional herbs or salts that lined the bathing edge were used for a variety of comforts.
Wick looked at him for a moment, trying to see if there was teasing in his tone but he seemed genuine in his temperament. She sighed. “The soap bar does the servant’s body good.” Glais seemed to understand and did not press further. Wick suspected there to be salts and oils sent to her rooms in the near future, and she will gently ignore them. Wick had no desire for such things.
Wick did not pause or feel embarrassed as she let the towel drop to her feet. Looking at the bath and focusing on nothing else, she stepped forward and only gripped Glais’ upper arm for assistance before stepping into the warming water.
“Do you want to know what happened?” Glais asked once she seemed settled. Wick nodded, once. A simple drop of her head and that was enough. Grabbing the bar of soap he spotted nearby, Glais lathered his hands and started washing the grass and dirt from her milk covered body. As he did, Glais told her about everything that had happened today. He began with Sable coming to collect Evangeline from breakfast and finished with the potions strange effect on the gathered victims.
Grabbing her thin hair in his hands, Glais carefully brushed a wide tooth comb through it, ensuring to scrub all reminders of the day from her body. “Which bowl was yours?” he asked her, running soapy hands over her legs, lifting them gently out of the water to remove the gathered milk from between her toes.
“The smaller.” She said softly, relaxing as best she could in the bath and allowed Glais to care for her in a manner that he had not done since they were very young. “I do not eat much.” She closed her eyes, but Glais could see it was not from relapse. He forced himself to relax as Wick continued. “I thought it odd when Sable collected so much from the kitchens, but I suppose the bowls were of equal amounts.”
Glais nodded. He had thought that Sable had consumed only a few bites of the breakfast, but it seemed he had been wrong in that assumption. Sable had eaten half of her meal before Wick had collapsed. It did not make her innocent, but it did mean that Glais needed to find more reliable evidence before he could bring this argument to Evangeline. “Not everyone survived,” Glais said quietly, brushing her hair back gently as Wick took over massaging her sore joints and cleaning her skin. Glais was doing his best but was too much a gentleman to clean her feminine body parts. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she remembered with clarity how he had not minded touching her body before. “That poison murdered many good men, and I am not certain it will not happen again.”
Wick grunted in response, looking up at him as if the silent message she said with her eyes was enough to convey everything she was thinking.
Clearly, it was not. “What is it?” Glais asked, and to his surprise Wick spoke, although her voice was dropped low and barely able to be heard even by him.
“Evangeline’s mother was poisoned over a series of weeks. This was immediate. More poison was used. It will be hard for them to gather more.” She cleared her throat, looking up as the sound of the bedroom door being opened interrupted her. Glais watched the curtain which cut off the bathing chambers from the rest of the room, but the voices coming from the other side were on Evangeline and Sable. He relaxed, but Wick didn’t.
Whatever she had meant to say, Wick did not say it now. Knowing there were others within earshot made it especially hard for Wick to say much of anything, even if it had nothing to do with the curse. She went back to silence and allowed Glais to finish with her hair. Knowing the conversation was over, Glais continued with the process.
Feeling cleaner then she had in a long time, Wick stood from the water and took the waiting towel from Glais before shuffling silently to her bedroom where she dressed herself. Glais stayed at a respectful distance until Wick needed some help to climb into the bed.
Experience told Glais that there was nothing he could say that would make Wick speak and so he did not prod her for further information. Instead, Glais stayed in her room, seeing to her every comfort until he was satisfied and even on her blank expression, he could tell that she was starting to grow annoyed from his constant fussing. “I will check on you in the morning,” he promised.
“Wait.” Wick couldn’t reach out for him, but it wasn’t needed. Glais stopped instantly, turning back to face her. “Be careful of Sable,” she whispered, looking towards Sable’s rooms as if she could see through the layers between them. “This means very little.”
He agreed with the sentiment. Glais bent over the bed in an effort not to be heard. “I sometimes feel that Evangeline is the only one who does trust her.” They had heard Evangeline taking her leave moments before, and it seemed that Sable was quite well enough to look after herself. Glais was not certain what he made of that conclusion just yet, and so he kept it to himself. “I am already considering this.” He reassured his friend. “I will stay with Evangeline tonight. You can worry about her safety tomorrow. For now, it is imperative that you rest. I can keep her safe for just a few hours on my own.” He smiled, and Wick just nodded. While she felt comfortable knowing that she wasn’t the only one who found this new friend to be unwise, in her current state there was nothing Wick could do about it.
Glais took his leave, and Wick stayed in bed, watching the closed door. It was only the all-over body fatigue that kept her to the bed. She wanted to be with Evangeline to ensure her safety. Wick shook her head gently to herself, knowing in the current state of the castle there would be many guards assigned to Evangeline’s every step, and even testing her food and water before she could consume it.
Wick could admit quietly to herself, the heat of the water still warming her bones as she nestled between her sheets and stared at the dark ceiling, that her focus had changed. When Evangeline had first come to Braykith, Wick had been determined to keep her safe from the monstrosity of the land. The curse was just the surface detailing of what true criminals and death lurked just beyond the eyes reach. Wick had wanted to keep Evangeline pure. It could not be done. Evangelin
e had been tainted by Braykith the moment she passed into the territory. Wick had been too stubborn to see it and too obsessed with her entanglement with the curse to look beyond her own history.
Evangeline had a strength of her own that Wick needed to consider and never imagined possible before meeting her. Now that Wick had been in her service for over a year, Evangeline had proven that she would not be quickly wooed by Glais or his father. The demons and the monsters did not give the girl notice, and she slipped amongst them without anything turning towards her. Wick needed to change her focus.
Evangeline had been prepared for monsters. She had not been ready for humanity. The cruel touch of manipulation was carved into Evangeline’s skin, leaving invisible marks which labelled her as an easy victim. A victim who did not think she needed protection only invited the likes of Sable into their inner circle. Evangeline could not save herself from this girl, and Wick knew she would die before allowing Sable to take more from Evangeline then she already had. These were the thoughts that Wick had as she fell asleep, the thoughts that peppered her nightmares and dreams, and left Wick feeling restless.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
U sually, Evangeline made it her business to be in bed and at least be emulating sleep before Glais could join her. On a rare occasion, she would wait for him to come to her because she needed to confront him on an issue that Evangeline knew could not be spoken openly about. This time, Evangeline paced the length of the sitting room dressed in her night clothes meaning to comfort him. She did not know what it said for their relationship, but seeing him be so gentle with Wick had tugged at her heart in such a fashion that she felt embarrassed by the memory. Not because of his actions for crude or out of line, but because it seemed so intimate Evangeline had felt like an infiltrator to her husband’s life.
The Ones Who Serve Page 15