by Wendy Knight
Christian was beautiful and devoted and kind. But he was a Carules, and a groom in her father’s stables. He was not powerful. And Ada’s heart didn’t care one bit.
As if reading her thoughts, Christian’s lips quirked and his eyes danced. “What are you thinking, little one?”
Ada scowled at him. She hated to be reminded of how tiny she was. Charity was two years younger than she was, and several inches taller. Ada straightened her spine and tried to think tall thoughts. “I’m thinking that it would amuse me greatly if you tripped and fell.”
Charity giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand when Christian glowered at them both. He started to speak, but it was then that Ada caught sight of the smoke rising in the distance. “Oh no.” At the look on her face, Christian whirled and gasped. “Ada, go. I’ll stay with Charity!”
Ada didn’t need to be told twice. She squeezed Charity’s arm before she let go and sprinted past Christian, urging the flames in her blood to move faster, to propel her down the trail. She darted around the trees and leaped over the gnarled roots, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that it drowned out the sound of her breathing. They hadn’t been attacked for over a year, but Ada knew the war with France — or was it Spain? Both, perhaps? — had escalated in the past months.
She ran harder.
Oh, her father had guards, powerful Edren sorcerers who were big and tough. And her mother could fight if she had to, the servants, too. But Ada was stronger than them, and she knew it. Her daddy needed her. And deep in her heart, she knew when he needed her, she would do everything in her power to be there. No matter what.
Her feet pounded up the trail as the house came into view. The estate wasn’t on fire, and she breathed a little easier. She raced into the courtyard and skidded to a halt, her feet sliding on the rocks.
No, the estate wasn’t on fire. The carriage was.
She could see the body burning inside. The Duke of Adlington, Richard Aleshire, stood just outside the reaching flames, watching with disinterest. Ada almost ran up to him and demanded to know what had happened, but she remembered just in time that she would probably get slapped for her insolence. Worse than that, he would be disappointed in her. And she lived her life to please him. She always had.
But Richard surprised her. “Ada, darling.” He reached an arm toward her and after a brief hesitation, she went to his side.
“What happened?” she asked, cautious, wincing a little in preparation of being slapped.
But Richard chuckled. “That man threatened our home. Our family. You.”
Ada felt her eyes widen in surprise and she peered up at Richard. How could he be at all amused by something so sinister? “Why did he do that?”
Richard sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Word has gotten out, Ada, that I have a powerful daughter. And that I myself am powerful. These non-magical creatures want us to protect them, to fight their wars. I don’t wish to.”
Ada shifted her weight, uncomfortable with the thought of arguing with him. “But isn’t that what we’re for? To protect? Isn’t that why we have our magic?” She’d moved too close to the burning carriage, and she could feel it scorching the back of her silk skirts. With a squeal, she danced away.
“That might be what lesser Edrens are for, darling. Not us. Until I find a way to benefit from a war that asks me to risk my life, I will not participate in it.”
Across the courtyard, Christian and Charity appeared. Christian’s eyes immediately found her, scanning her up and down. The relief on his face when he found no injuries was clear even from as far away as Ada stood, and her heart raced.
Deliberately turning her back on the burning carriage and carnage within, she shoved the awful images from her mind like she’d had to do a thousand times before. She bit her lip and moved on to safer topics. “Daddy, were you going to talk to Charity today about being my maid?” Ada twisted a red and black lock of hair around her finger. Running so hard had loosened her ornate plait, and now rebellious curls escaped, blowing into her face.
“I hadn’t planned to. Why?” His eyes followed her gaze across the courtyard to where Christian was helping Charity to a bench in the shade. Her silver eyes were dull and her skin looked gray. I shouldn’t have left her out there.
“She said you wanted to see her. I thought that was why.”
Richard opened his mouth to respond, but Vivian appeared on the balcony above them. “Oh good heavens!” she screamed. “Harrison! Davis!”
The two large Edren guards appeared at her side, and Vivian wordlessly pointed at the carriage, her mouth open in horror. Vivian was not a warrior. She didn’t believe Ada should be, either. She was overly fond of saying, “A woman must have power, but a lady needn’t use it.”
Ada melted away as Harrison and Davis and several more of her father’s guards came to put the fire out. Steeling back to Christian’s side, she sank onto the bench, taking Charity’s hand. “Were you hurt?” Christian’s voice was full of worry and Ada smiled up at him, her pulse leaping when his dark eyes scanned her face, landing briefly on her lips before they skipped back up to meet her gaze.
“No. My father took care of it before I got here. Apparently the man threatened him when he refused to help.”
Christian glanced at the carnage with a raised eyebrow but returned quickly to her face, like it hurt him to look away from her. “Ada, there have been rumors…”
Ada frowned. Christian, as a servant and not in elite society, heard much more about the outside world than she did. And judging from the tone of his voice, this bit of information wasn’t something she wanted to know. Which meant she must know it. “Tell me.”
Charity’s eyes glowed silver and Ada bit her lip, her eyes widening in alarm. “What do you see?” She leaned forward and grasped her friend’s hand, trying to anchor her to this life, this time.
Christian moved closer, blocking Charity’s bright eyes from anyone else. It was a dangerous time to be a seer. They were losing their sight, and their sanity. No one understood why, and none of them lived long enough to explain it. “Charity, stop it.” Christian hissed, but it was too late.
“There’s a war. And… and your father…”
“Ada, I’m sorry you had to see that.” Richard strode over, and Christian, obviously panicked, smacked his sister in the shoulder. She yelped but the light in her eyes died abruptly.
“I’m fine, Daddy.” Ada glanced at him before her eyes strayed to the still-burning carriage. The messenger trapped in the inferno wasn’t fine, though.
“Mistress Buttercroft. We had an appointment, did we not? I’ll be waiting for you in my study.” Richard nodded curtly and turned on his heel.
They watched him as he strode away before Ada turned to Charity. “What did you see?”
“Nothing. Your father interrupted me and now I don’t remember anything.” Charity frowned, fingering a loose string on her dress. “Anyway, I’d better go. He’s waiting for me. Ada…” She hesitated and Ada raised an eyebrow. “Did you ask him if I — if I could be your maid?”
“I did. I’m certain that’s what this is about,” Ada said, more confidently than she felt.
But it must have fooled Charity, because relief flooded her pale, delicate features before she took Christian’s hand, pulling herself to her feet. “I’d better go. I’ll see you both later.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Ada whirled toward Christian, disconcerted a bit by the way his dark eyes watched her. She felt a flush trying to sneak beyond her collar and she fought to keep it from finding its way to her cheeks. Friends. They were friends. Good friends. “What do you think she saw? Of course there’s a war. We’ve been fighting France and Spain for years. But what has that to do with my father?”
Christian looked uncomfortable, suddenly refusing to meet her gaze. He looked everywhere but at her.
“Christian.” She waited until he looked up, scowling. “What were these rumors you were going to tell me?”
> Christian hesitated, tracing the cracks on the bench. When he still didn’t speak, she continued, “Are we not best friends? Have we not saved each other from fates worse than death innumerable times? Have you not healed me every time I’ve been broken?” His lips quirked into the barest of grins and he nodded slowly, as if she were pulling it out of him. “Then you know you can tell me this.”
Christian looked over his shoulder toward the house, and then grabbed her hand and dragged her down the path toward their climbing trees. As it always did, her skin seemed deliciously scalded where he touched her, and her heart raced in her chest.
“You really couldn’t have told me three hundred steps ago?” she gasped, panting, as he passed their trees and continued on.
“No. These rumors are grave, Ada.” He continued tugging her — across the dirt path and into the thick trees. Finally he ducked through the tangled branches, releasing her hand so she could crawl after him through the brambles. Ada, you are far too old to be climbing trees and crawling through the mud. We’re supposed to present you to Society within the year! What will people think? The memory of her mother’s voice echoed in her head as she felt the ground staining her skirts. She pushed it away. She wasn’t ready to grow up, because growing up meant leaving Christian behind.
She couldn’t do that.
Finally, he tumbled free of the brambles and she followed, emerging next to the tiny pond they’d found years ago. As far as Ada knew, no one in her father’s employ knew of it, and she was certain her mother didn’t.
“Okay. Enough, Christian, tell me.” She pushed her thick red and black curls away from her face; they were a tangled mess now.
Still Christian peered around them. Ada sighed, leaning against the tree trunk and folding her arms over her chest, glaring until he spoke.
“There are rumors, Ada.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that,” she said dryly. Christian moved around to the other side of the pond, his feet squishing in the mud as he got too close to the water. He tore a branch off the tree above his head and plucked leaves off, tossing them in the pond. “You’re stalling,” Ada said, grinning. He was adorable. The sun broke through the thick branches above, catching the highlights in his dark brown hair. He knelt next to her. It was rare that they were alone — Charity was always with them.
Ada’s heart pounded harder in her chest.
“You have to promise not to be angry with me, Ada Aleshire.” He leaned close, studying her face. He was nearly eighteen. A man. Her gaze dipped to his lips, and this time the flush swept up her neck and into her cheeks before she could fight it down. That slow grin lit up his face, brightening his eyes.
She cleared her throat and backed away. Friends, she told herself sternly. “I promise not to be angry with you, Christian Buttercroft. Unless you don’t tell me right now, in which case I will be furious.” She tried to look fierce and he laughed.
“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up to ward of her attack, which was smart of him, since she was indeed considering smacking him. Instantly, though, his face sobered. “There are rumors that your father…” his voice trailed off again.
She was sure she would go mad before he ever got to the point. “Christian!”
“All right, all right! There are rumors that your father is funding the war and that he is playing all three sides — Queen Anne’s, the French and Spanish, and his own,” Christian said in a rush. “And there are rumors that your father is the one stealing the seers’ sight.”
Ada felt like she’d been slapped. She stumbled backward, putting a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat there and not understanding why. “How can you say such things?” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to! You forced me!” Christian said, following her. He grabbed her hand, twining her fingers with his, the pad of his thumb brushing against her tender skin. “I’m sorry, Ada. I truly am. But I’m worried for you.”
“You’re worried for me and yet you tell me such horrid things?” she screeched like an angry owl, wincing as she hurt her own ears.
“Ada.” Christian stopped following her backward, but he didn’t let go of her hand. He straightened to his full height, several inches taller than her. “You know I would never hurt you. I—” He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.
But she couldn’t worry about what he was going to say. She jerked her hand free and whirled, gathering her skirts up and dashing into the briars. She felt them tear at her dress, her arms, hair and face, until she was smart enough to drop to her knees. Without a backward glance she crawled through the dirt.
“Ada, wait! Please, Ada, you promised!”
She muttered angrily under her breath but didn’t stop.
“Ada, just think about what I said!” Christian called as she escaped the brambles and pushed to her feet. This time she did glance over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see him through the thickness of the undergrowth. With a curse, she lifted her torn, now slightly bloody skirts and sprinted away.
****
“Ada! What has happened to your dress?” Vivian asked, her tone too loud and mannish to be considered lady-like as Ada stormed through the front door.
“Nothing, Mama,” Ada snapped.
Vivian followed her in a rustle of silk skirts. “You were with that boy again, weren’t you? The groom?”
“He’s not just a groom, mother. He’s my friend. He’s always been my friend.” Ada whirled on, unsure why, exactly, she was defending him when she was so furious. But defend him she would. Always. Forever.
“Well, I don’t like it. You’re too old to be chasing him around. He’s going to ruin your reputation! Your chance at a profitable marriage.”
Ada had almost made her escape. Three more stairs to the landing, and she could escape to her room and leave her mother behind.
She wasn’t fast enough.
“Ada. I do not want you alone with that boy. You will have a proper chaperone at all times or you will stay away from him. Is that clear?”
Ada whirled on her mother, sparks exploding from her fingertips. The fear she saw in her mother’s eyes shocked her, and the sparks died abruptly. “Fine.” She bit the word off before grabbing up her torn skirts and sprinting up the last steps.
Safely in her room, she closed the door and leaned against it, one hand on her heart. Her own mother was afraid of her? She was attacked by a myriad of emotions — guilt, fear… and power. A small part of her had liked causing that fear.
“I’m a monster.”
Chapter Two
“Brilliant, Christian.” He’d lost her. “Why did you open your big mouth anyway?” Christian kicked at the ground, watching the dirt clods tumble into the pond. He could go after her, but he’d seen the fury in her eyes. She’d been angry before, but not like this. “You insulted her father, you oaf. You know how she idolizes him!” Christian was aware that he was having a conversation, out loud, with himself. He didn’t care. With a sigh, he crawled through the brambles, leaving their little pond behind.
He approached the courtyard, hoping she’d be waiting near their bench, but she wasn’t. His eyes, with a will of their own, looked to her balcony, but the windows were shut tight and the curtains drawn. His heart hammered in his chest. He couldn’t lose her. Life would not be worth living without her.
His mother, Scarlett, was in their little cottage when he slouched through the door. She gave him a brief look before her eyes saddened. “You and Ada had a fight.” Although his mother didn’t have Charity’s gift of sight, she still seemed to know things. “It’s mother’s intuition,” she murmured, stroking his dark hair back from his forehead. “What happened?”
“I tried to tell her the rumors about His Grace.”
Scarlett sat back, pursing her lips. “She will never listen to a word against her father, Christian, you know that.”
“I thought she would listen to me. I thought…” I thought she loved me. “Where is Charity?” he asked instead.
“She hasn’
t returned from her appointment with the duke.” Scarlett’s eyes flicked uneasily out the window, watching the big house. Scarlett worried about Charity, with her gift of sight and the attacks on seers, but they had lived under the duke’s protection all these years. If the rumors were true and His Grace was the one torturing the seers, he had yet to turn his attention on Charity.
Even still, Christian could see the barely veiled and quickly growing panic flitting across her face.
“She’ll be fine, mother.” Christian patted her hand. “I’ll go look for her if you’d like.” And hopefully I’ll meet Ada along the way. Beg her to forgive me. He swallowed, hard, nearly choking himself on his want of her.
Scarlett opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead the sadness in her eyes overwhelmed her and she brushed her palm against his face. “Thank you, Christian.”
Christian turned and hurried out, glancing again up at Ada’s window. Still nothing. Heaving a disappointed sigh, he continued in to the main house, looking for Charity. “Excuse me, miss. Have you seen my sister?” he asked Mrs. Kent, the head maid.
“She’s still in a meeting.” Mrs. Kent sniffed, because household staff was far above speaking to the lowly grooms.
Christian rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea when she’ll be done?” Inexplicable worry for his sister knotted his stomach.
“No. Now off with you. I have work to do.”
Christian turned to go, his head down like a kicked dog.
“Mr. Buttercroft.”
At her sweet voice, his heart leaped, and he could feel her standing behind him. He spun, plastering a repentant look on his face. Ada glanced quickly at Mrs. Kent before taking his arm. “Walk with me.”
Mrs. Kent watched them as they wandered away, but she had no reason to follow them so they were able to escape her hawk-like stare. Christian opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but she cut him off.