by Bronwyn Eley
Chuckling, I scratched the side of her face. Exhaustion battered into me like a fist to the stomach. I sunk to my knees, feeling every stiff movement it took to get there.
‘She’s a sucker for an ear scratch.’
When I looked up, Markus was leaning against the door frame, wiping between his fingers with a dirty cloth. ‘But be careful – you’ll have a devoted friend for life if you do.’
‘Is this Q?’ I looked back to the attentive dog.
‘You tell me.’
The other dogs moved around the enclosure, passing close to Markus, peering up at him. My audience wasn’t the least bit interested in him, not when a hand hovered so close to her ear. I scratched. ‘This is her.’
‘You see?’ Markus stepped into the yard. ‘They all have their little tells.’
I wanted to stand, but every inch of my body begged me not to. Could he see the trembling, frail girl before him? To everyone else, my state made absolute sense. It was the reason they pitied me. But what did Markus make of my shaking limbs and pale face?
‘So you train these dogs?’ Keep him distracted. ‘For hunting?’
Markus nodded, bending down and picking up the pile of wooden dog bowls lying on the ground. I took my moment, grasping the fence and hauling myself upright. As he looked up, I released my steadying grip on the wood.
‘Rennard enjoys a big hunting trip every few weeks, taking his highest-ranking guards and some friends along,’ he explained, moving toward a large, wooden box attached to the side of the house. ‘He just cancelled his next trip, though.’ Markus shrugged. ‘Unusual.’
Did Markus know anything about Bellamy or a rebellion? If that was even what was going on. It was a ridiculous notion, since it would be suicide, so perhaps I was reaching.
‘Lord Rennard has friends?’ I knew my scoff would earn me a beating if the wrong ears caught wind of it. But I felt I could trust Markus. ‘Does he bribe them?’
Markus laughed as he lifted the latch on the box. ‘Power is a seductive thing.’
‘And do you go with him?’ Days on end with the pain. No escape. No relief. I rolled my shoulders back, wincing.
‘Occasionally,’ Markus responded as he dipped one of the bowls into the box. When he pulled it out, it brimmed with food scraps. Wilted vegetables, crumbling bread sodden with a brown liquid that covered everything; I even spotted a few scraps of meat. I crinkled my nose. Leftovers from the castle, I assumed. All the scraps I left on my plate were probably mixed up in it.
‘My huntsmen and their trainees go with him. More often than not, I remain here and continue my work.’
Even though we were alone, I looked around pointedly. ‘How many people are under you?’
His lips quirked, eyes mischievous. ‘Quite a few, though not as many as I’d like.’
Normally, I would have made fun of myself for my poor word choice. A brief image flashed into my mind, too crude and ambitious to risk acknowledging. I pushed it down.
‘If the dogs go with him, what do you do?’
‘He doesn’t take all the dogs.’ Markus whistled. Every dog, Q included, raced to his side. They sat instantly, no command required, eyes focused. He placed the bowl down in front of one of them. I expected her to charge for it, but she didn’t. Markus repeated the action until there was a bowl in front of every dog.
‘Even I don’t have that kind of control,’ I chuckled.
Markus smiled, his attention now on me instead of the dogs. Still, they waited. ‘Scraps from the kitchen give them a nice mix. Occasionally, they’ll get chunks of meat if I’m feeling generous. But feeding them this,’ he gestured to the storage behind him, which I could now smell, ‘keeps them eager for the hunt, since they get at least part of what they catch.’
He flicked his wrist down swiftly, index finger pointed. The dogs lunged at their meals, master forgotten.
Markus waved me over as he entered the house. I followed, watching the dogs with fascination as I passed.
The single room was about twice the size of my bedroom. The air was as stale as the castle’s and smelled of animal. A simple wooden table pressed against the far wall, with a single chair. A lavishly engraved ceramic vase stood on the table; the perfect white flowers were a grand spectacle in such a plain room.
A woman’s touch?
‘I have four huntsmen under me and each of them have two trainees. Soon enough, they either join us or go work for other stables throughout the city or on the farms. Rius and Lenny work mostly with the hounds. Toyon, the horses. Andrew, the eagles.’ He shrugged. ‘But I need all the help I can get with the hounds.’
‘You have eagles here?’ I heard the wonder in my voice.
Eagles were the symbol of the Ediann household. Lord Rennard saw fit to display one around his neck. It was quite possibly the only other thing he ever allowed to touch his precious Relic. While they were symbolic of the man and the power that was slowly destroying me, I couldn’t blame the incredible creatures for that.
‘A few.’ Markus smiled. ‘It’s a real privilege.’
I sighed softly. I had only ever seen them from a distance, passing by along the air, so gracefully it was as if the wind bent to their will. I looked to Markus, to his soft smile and fatigued stance. There was light in his eyes.
‘What about you?’
I hesitated. I knew exactly what he was asking me, but I didn’t want to risk telling him what I used to be, in case he had heard that the new Shadow had also been a Blacksmith. He wasn’t stupid. He would put two and two together. ‘What about me?’
‘What did you do before you were assigned to work for Jesper?’
‘Much of the same.’ How easily the lies came now. What I used to do couldn’t be further from what I supposedly did now for Jesper. ‘So how did you end up here?’
Markus looked at me, a small smile playing on his lips, stronger for all the sadness that hid in the corners of his eyes.
He walked to the table and leaned against it, gesturing to the chair. I moved quickly to the seat and sunk onto it, so grateful I could have kissed him. I did my best to relax, strange as it was these days, and stretched out my stiff legs, rolling my ankles.
‘I’ve lived here my whole life,’ Markus said.
This surprised me. ‘But you’re a titled man – why live in the castle grounds and not in your own home in the Noble Quarters?’
‘Well …’ He drew in a long breath. ‘My father was the Master of the Hunt before me and his father before him. It’s the family business. We live in our own home on the castle grounds, we always have. Just like the Cook, the generals, the Blacksmith.’ He shrugged. My chest twinged, hands curling together. ‘You name it. We need to be close.’
‘So your father taught you and then gave you his position?’ My words came out hoarse, my emotions fighting to the surface. I glanced outside. The sun was low over the western side of the city. I should be at work. Not this sick excuse for a job, but my real one. The one I had grown fond of.
I flexed my fingers, aching to have strong metal in them again. What I wouldn’t give to feel the blistering heat of fire on my skin, just once more. The real kind. Not the cheap imitation the Relic used on me.
‘He taught me somewhat, but he didn’t give it to me.’ There was a sound of rushing dogs as Markus called for Q.
It made sense that there was a smithy on the castle grounds. Where, I wasn’t sure. Probably in some distant corner of the grounds, likely near or attached to the barracks. The urge to go find it pulsed through me. But what was the point? I had enough work to keep me busy. What little rest time I did have was necessary for just that – rest. The last thing my failing body needed was the intensity of a smithy.
‘Everything alright?’ Markus had been observing me closely.
‘It’s nothing,’ I stumbled, shaking my head. ‘Do your parents still live with you on the grounds?’
‘Just Q,’ he commanded as he moved forward to block the other dogs’ entrance. Q ran stra
ight for me and I greeted her with a pat. ‘Both my parents are dead.’
I stopped mid-pat, looking at Markus. His smile had disappeared, but his eyes were still shining. He shrugged.
‘I’m sorry.’ Too quiet. Too much pity. I cleared my throat. ‘You said “we”?’
‘My sister lives with me.’
‘How old is she?’ A vision of Kye’s small hands reaching for mine flooded my mind.
‘A month shy of twelve,’ he chuckled. ‘That’s how she puts it.’
‘That’s a big age difference,’ I noted, revelling in the ease with which we conversed. This was why I kept up the charade – it felt so good to just talk to someone with nothing hanging over our heads.
Markus scoffed. ‘I was an accident.’ He smiled, but it was forced. Even his eyes looked sad now.
‘So was I.’ Somehow I got the feeling that his story wasn’t like mine. I was a happy accident, at least.
‘Do you have any siblings?’
‘Three younger brothers.’ I gave him a pointed look and he laughed.
‘So,’ he said, placing a hand on the wall. ‘What I’m really dying to know is – are you going to Jesper’s celebration?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Markus’ eyes were soft, curious. Suddenly, I felt sick from my lies.
He likes you.
As much as I wanted to ignore the thought, I couldn’t with him looking at me like that. If I had just been honest from the start, he would have a very different look in his eyes right now.
Sorry, no point liking me. I’ll be dead in a few months, or a few years at best.
Better to come clean now, tell him why I wouldn’t be attending the celebration as a guest. Remove that look from his eyes. Quell any hopes of dancing under the stars with me. It couldn’t happen.
And yet, I couldn’t stand the idea of those eyes turning cold and sorry. That smile turning to a grimace. His flirtatious charm turning to carefully constructed sentences.
He tilted his head, patient even through my unusual silence.
I lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, hoping he couldn’t see the debate going on behind my eyes. ‘Even if I were to go, I would be working all night.’
Markus scrunched up his face. ‘That won’t do.’
I shrugged again. ‘I don’t mind. I probably wouldn’t enjoy myself anyway.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Fresh food, endless drink, the best musicians in Edriast at our disposal all night. What’s not to like?’
A night under the stars, a handsome man with his eyes on me? Maybe even his hands? There was nothing not to like about that. But I couldn’t let him know that. Every time we spoke, every time I smiled or laughed, was a step further toward a person I didn’t want to be.
Jesper wanted me to be honest with Markus, but maybe I could find a way around telling him. The biggest risk in keeping this up was letting that look linger in his eyes. I foolishly encouraged it. Maybe when my face flushed with heat, reddening with each attempt to squash down the pain, to not let it take over and come out in a scream, he instead saw a soft blush escaping. Maybe he saw every moment of silence I spent deliberating what lie to put forth next as a nervous girl not wanting to say something foolish.
I had to pretend his smile didn’t make my insides warm. I had to pretend I had better things to do than spend time with him. Setting my shoulders back, I flattened my expression.
‘It’s no fun without friends.’
Markus twisted his mouth. Leaning over, he pulled one of the flowers from the vase and approached me, twirling it between his fingers. He held it out to me. ‘I could be your friend.’
I shifted back in my seat.
‘Jesper, too,’ he added.
There was no way I could feign cold indifference around someone so warm and kind. Jesper was right. I had to tell him.
‘I’m not in the mood for a party,’ I said quietly. He waited for my explanation, the flower still hanging between us. I took it from him. ‘I just saw ...’ I dropped my head. ‘Something unpleasant. It reminded me that a friend of mine is here in the dungeon.’
‘I’m sorry. What did they do?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I sighed. ‘I forgot about him, I forgot that he was in pain all this time.’ I pressed my hands together. ‘I just don’t think a party is the best idea for me right now.’
‘I’d say the opposite.’ Markus crouched down beside Q and drew his fingers down her spine. She shifted forward on her legs, lengthening as he worked her muscles. ‘Whatever he did, he will be fine. He’ll be released. Besides, Rennard’s always been fair. I’m sure your friend is receiving the standard treatment.’
‘You’d call imprisoning people for a simple mistake fair, would you?’ I snapped. Regret instantly bit at my heart and I winced. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just … I don’t believe my friend’s punishment fits his indiscretion.’
‘Rulers never have easy decisions to make.’ Markus seemed to be treading carefully with his words, as if waiting for my next bite. ‘I can only speak from my personal experience. Rennard has always been generous with me and my sister, especially after the death of our parents. He’s tolerant and thoughtful at times. Really,’ he added when I raised my brows.
‘I should be getting back.’ I stood quickly, forgetting my light head, and stumbled back into the chair. Markus’ hands shot out, grabbing my arms and pulling me upright.
‘Shae?’ My skin pulsed against his touch. A glint of silver caught my delirious eyes and I focused on it as my head swam. My eyes were level with his open collar, where the delicate necklace peeked out at me. The thin chain and gentle curve of the letter A told me it was designed for a woman.
Who was A?
Heat flooded my face. I was stupid to think a wealthy Nobleman would have eyes for the help. A was probably as delicate as the chain, as beautiful as the design.
I sucked in a deep breath and pushed my shoulders back, head rising with great effort. The smile was simply to reassure him. ‘Stood up too quickly.’
‘You’re pale,’ he said. ‘Maybe you should sit back down. I’ll get you some water.’
I shook my head and released my grip, tugging my arms away from him. He let go but his hands hovered in the air a moment, waiting to see what I would do. I willed my body to stay strong, just for a moment longer.
‘Really, I’m fine.’ I rubbed the stem of the flower between my fingers, feeling a right fool. He said he would be my friend, not anything more.
‘Alright.’ His voice was as wary as his retreating step.
I nodded, wishing I could just vanish into thin air. ‘Your hinges need replacing.’
‘What?’
I pointed to the open door. ‘The top one is about to fall apart.’
‘I know,’ Markus smiled. ‘It’s why I keep the door open. I can’t remember the last time I closed it.’
‘Well.’ I slowly headed for the door. ‘They’re standard iron barrel hinges. Any Blacksmith could throw some together for you easily. You should replace them.’
‘How do you know about iron barrel hinges?’ he asked, sounding amused.
I shrugged. ‘Just do. I should get back to –’ Lord Rennard. ‘Jesper.’
I could see the debate in his eyes, whether or not he should insist that I sit down again. I did my best to smile, to look normal, but my hands were trembling and I could feel the fatigue spreading over my face.
‘Alright,’ he said again. ‘Don’t be a stranger, then.’
I emerged from the stale room and hurried across the grounds. My head pulled me in all directions, and I was barely able to walk in a straight line. I couldn’t bring myself to look back to see if he was watching me. Wondering. Perhaps figuring it out. There was no time for that. Rennard would be expecting me at some point and I had work to do.
Besides, that was enough lying for one day.
Chapter 10
‘Ren, my dear?’
Jesper’s voice was warmer than usual. The sound of scrap
ing forks filled the room. The heat battered against my skin and filled my head. Enviously, I took in the sight of Jesper’s easy breath, her steady hands.
How did she do it?
Rennard grunted without glancing up from his papers. Jesper’s expression remained calm as she called his name again. Dropping his papers, he looked at her with a sigh. ‘What is it?’ he asked curtly. I rolled my eyes.
‘I had an idea – something I would like very much for my birthday.’ When he gestured for her to continue, she leaned forward, cupping slender arms around her ample bosom. I tried not to smirk. ‘I’m very grateful for the costume you had made for me, but I already had something in mind. I was wondering –’
‘What is it?’
‘A knight in shining armour.’ She smiled brightly. ‘A warrior.’
Rennard was amused. ‘And am I to be your damsel in distress?’
‘A flowing gown would certainly flatter you, my lord.’
Despite an undercurrent of tension, Rennard laughed. ‘I don’t see why not. I’ll have Warren –’
‘I was hoping –’ Jesper began loudly. She turned slightly in her seat, her light eyes finding me. ‘That Kaylan might be the one to make it.’
Rennard’s expression mirrored my own confusion and surprise. ‘Why?’
‘She is a Blacksmith.’
‘Was,’ Rennard stressed, folding his hands together.
‘Was,’ Jesper conceded. ‘But I am a woman and so is she –’
‘The obvious, yes.’ Rennard looked back down at his papers.
‘I feel Kaylan would be better equipped to understand the needs for feminine armour. After all, it’s not something Warren has ever had experience with.’
‘Has she?’ Rennard looked back, piercing eyes on me.
Somehow I found my voice. ‘I’ve tinkered, my lord.’ A blatant lie. I had fixed armour before, certainly, but armour built for men only.
‘What would you envisage for my wife, the warrior?’