by Chloe Cole
"Your Highness, I--"
"Ah! I'm so glad I didn't miss you, Your Highness." Gatlin's voice boomed through the room as he strode in.
For a second, the king looked furious at the interruption, but his expression mellowed as he rose to his feet beside me.
"Saint John, good to see you."
Gatlin bowed and gestured for us to sit again with a sweep of his hand. "No need to rise for me," he said with a low chuckle. If I didn't know better, I might have thought he was totally unaware of what he'd walked in on, but then I noted the lethal smile pinned to his firm mouth and the tension in his muscles.
The king's mouth kicked up into a sardonic smile in return. "Actually, I wasn't. I was just preparing to go." He turned to me, his gaze narrowing on my face. "Angela, here, was telling me she's faring well in her lessons?"
“Anaya. And she is," Gatlin said with a curt nod. "Very. That said, it's early days and we've got a lot of ground to cover. She's still very shy."
My breath hitched as I began to wonder if Gatlin had been standing there for longer than I'd realized. Sebastian and Gatlin locked eyes and I watched them both in tense silence.
"Is that what it is? Shy?” the king asked softly.
"Yes, but we're working on it. Another few weeks and--"
Sebastian cut in with an imperious slice of his hand. "That won't do, I'm afraid. I’ve found I’m quite intrigued with this one. I'll be leaving on an extended trip in a few weeks to see the queen's family in Esterley. She just had a pair of cubs and we'll be gone for a month or more.” He slid a glance toward me, and I resisted the urge to scoot further away. “I find I don’t want to wait that long and, if I’m being honest, I like them a little shy.” He turned to look back at Gatlin and nodded sharply. “Five days. Have her ready early morning and I’ll send a coach to pick her up.”
The air rushed out of me and I stared at Gatlin in stunned silence.
“Your Highness, as I said, she’s a good pupil, but she isn’t even close to ready—”
“That’s not your decision, Saint John.” Something like a threat glittered in Sebastian’s eyes and the tips of his incisors lengthened.
Gatlin hesitated, but then inclined his head as he took a deferential step back. “As you wish, of course.”
The king swept from the room and Gatlin followed behind, shooting me a pointed look that I should stay put.
No problem there. I couldn’t move if I tried.
Five days. Never in a million years did I think it would come so quickly. What did I know that qualified me to be part of the harem already?
Hardly anything at all.
But it was the rush of disgust that swamped me at the thought of becoming a part of the harem ever that had me wanting to cut and run.
Not only wasn’t I attracted to the king, I was repelled by him.
The very thought of doing the things I’d done with any of my tutors made my brow break out in a cold sweat. My skin still crawled at the thought of Sebastian’s hands on me as I stared at the door, half fearing he'd change his mind and come back to tell me to pack my things and leave with him now.
Only he didn't. When footsteps sounded again a few minutes later, it was Gatlin, his expression unreadable.
"He should've let us know he was coming in advance. I'd have given you some warning," he said, closing the door carefully behind him before crossing the room to sit across from me. "Are you all right?"
I looked down at my folded hands and shrugged.
This was a fine line to walk, that I knew for certain. We had trust between us, but they were also the king's men. At a point, their very lives depended on their loyalty. Maybe I was being overly cautious. Maybe I had overestimated my tutors' esteem for me, but in the past few days, I had gotten the distinct impression that they cared far more than they should.
If I told him exactly how upset that little visit had made me, I couldn't be sure of Gatlin's reaction. He might feel terrible, guilt-ridden, but know that he was helpless. He might rail against it, voicing his anger while deep down knowing there was no other choice. But it was the tiny nugget of fear pressed against my heart that he could do something drastic...say something irretrievable to the one man who could have him executed with the wave of a hand that terrified me most.
I cared far too much to risk that.
“I’m all right.”
“You didn’t seem all right. I heard a bit of your conversation through the door,” he said softly.
It was only as he stood and stepped closer that I noted the tension in his shoulders. The fury in his eyes. The way his own fangs poked his bottom lip.
He was angry and his anger only made me more certain that I needed to hide my own.
“He’s a blowhard. Most men in power are,” I said, feigning a worldly smile that I was fairly certain didn’t fool him a bit. “He’s a stranger. Of course it felt odd. But it will be all right, I’m sure of it.”
He nodded dubiously as I stood.
“All that said, I’m feeling cooped up. I think I’ll go walk the gardens, if that’s all right.”
For a moment, I thought he would press harder, but then he stepped back to make room for me to pass.
“Of course, I’ll see you at dinner.”
The rest of the day went by in a blur as I managed to complete the few tasks set before me. I read passages on harem etiquette and even had another self-defense lesson with Michael, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was too busy thinking of what I was going to do.
Late that night, many hours later, as I lay my head down, I was sure of only one thing.
I would do whatever it took to find a way out of having to take the king as my lover.
I had no plan, no clue of how to proceed. All I knew was that, in the next five days, I’d figure it out. I’d managed to survive my father all those years and stay sane. I could manage to survive this.
For now, it was enough.
Chapter 18
Monstrous, gnarled trees hung overhead as I picked my way down the dark and winding path obscured by a dank smog.
I glanced down and could barely see my feet through it but even if I could, I'd have stayed rooted to that spot. I was lost. Deep in the forest with no idea which way to go.
Panic seized my heart and I pressed a hand to my chest.
"Anaya!" a low male voice called. I barely heard him over the sound of the whipping winds, but instantly, my skin prickled. It sounded familiar, if far away, and my legs began to move, drawn toward it.
"Gatlin, is that you?" My pulse began to pound as hope lit an ember inside me.
A low chuckle greeted my ears and I began to walk faster.
"Come on, love."
It was all right. Connor was there too. They'd come to find me and bring me home.
My walk became a jog and then a run as glowing amber eyes lit my path. If I could just get there in time, if I could just make it to the circle of their arms, I'd be safe.
Branches slapped at my legs and my pace seemed to slow as my feet sank deeper into the earth. Dirt became mud...mud turned to quicksand, and I screamed.
"I'm stuck. I want to come to you but I can't move."
The words died on my lips as Michael and Lucian stepped through the dark fog, with Connor and Gatlin on their heels.
Relief rolled over me as I stretched out my hands, reaching for them as the sucking liquid swallowed my calves.
"Don't come too close!" I cautioned. But my fears for their safety were for naught as the four of them stared at me blankly from a few yards away.
"Lucian?" I whispered, relief slowly making way for dread as the strange expression on his face sent a chill straight to my bones. As gruff as he could be, as angry as I could make him, he'd never looked at me that way. Like he was observing a fly in a trap. Unmoved. Unaffected. Uncaring.
I turned my attention to Michael, whose gaze usually felt like sunlight, and again...nothing.
The viscous muck sucked at my thighs now, dragging me deepe
r and I scrabbled at the earth with my hands.
"Please!" I begged, my voice hoarse with terror. "I'll drown."
But as pure panic closed around me like a fist, I realized I was talking to their backs, because every one of them had walked away.
I woke up with a scream trapped in my throat as I shot upright, pulse pounding.
A dream. It was only a dream. But, boy, had it been a doozy. It made sense after my traumatic meeting with the king, although knowing that didn’t make it any more pleasant.
I swung my feet off the bed and felt around for my slippers before slipping them on.
I could tell by the hazy light seeping in through the shutters that it was still too early for breakfast, but maybe that was for the best. I wasn't sure I was ready to face the Saint John brothers en masse again. Even one on one, they were a force to be reckoned with. All at once?
Sensory overload.
Especially after that awful nightmare and the day I’d had yesterday.
I tugged a soft, cotton robe on over my night-shift and padded out of my room, down the stairs to the kitchen. A quick glance at the cuckoo clock confirmed it was barely six o'clock, which meant I would have a few minutes of peace before the cook came in to prep for the day's meals.
I put the kettle on and opened the cupboard to find several flat, round loaves from the day before studded with cured meat and olives.
Carrying my bounty to the countertop, I recalled a few days before when I’d walked in for some tea to see Connor standing at that very same countertop and my cheeks flushed.
I had become such a sap. It was like every second I spent with one of my tutors became my new obsession. I'd never been so fickle about anything in my life before, and I'd certainly never been one to give my affection out like sweetmeats to every boy in town. Not that many of them had shown an interest, but still. This was all new for me.
Maybe that was it.
The novelty of feeling so wanted. Desired. Treasured, even.
It was addictive, that feeling. And that made it dangerous. Which also could explain why my dream had taken such a dark, unsettling turn.
I set the loaf on the counter and selected a serrated knife from the assortment sheathed in a heavy wooden block beside me.
The best thing I could do for myself now was to never forget my place in their world. The second I forgot that, and started fantasizing some childlike happy ending, I was toast. They cared about me but facts were facts and I was a visitor here. One who was leaving sooner than I’d ever imagined, and the more comfortable I got here, the more leaving was going to hurt. If I kept that at the forefront of my thoughts and protected my heart, I would be okay.
I just wish they didn't make it so hard to remember that.
Besides, I reminded myself as I sawed off a hunk of the day old bread, most girls would kill to be in my spot right now. In this gorgeous home, preparing to move into the king's harem quarters. Hardly the stuff nightmares were made of.
The only thought that truly comforted me, though? The fact that I still had a little time to figure out how to deal with this all and get my head right. Four more days, if the king could be trusted to keep his word.
It wasn't much, but I’d make it work.
The darkest dregs of my disturbing dream faded as I reached for the tub of fresh, creamy butter sitting a few feet away.
I took a full minute to slather it on, making sure to coat it from edge to edge before biting in.
When the salty taste hit my tongue, I groaned in pure bliss. I'd miss the food here when I was gone. So different from the plain fare at the farm, it was like an explosion of taste buds at every meal. I polished off the first slice and was considering the sourdough loaf and pot of gooseberry jam I'd spotted in the cupboard when footsteps had me jerking my head toward the door.
Cook stepped in, a wide grin spreading across her pleasingly plump face.
"Ah, good morning, lass. You're up early today." She was still tying her apron as she bustled toward the larder. "I haven't collected eggs yet this morning but I can make you some toast and marmalade if you like, and there is a nice slab of bacon to go with it?"
"No, thank you. I just ate some delicious bread and am trying to convince myself that my hips don't need another slice." I swiped the crumbs on the counter into my hand and brought them over to the rubbish bin.
Cook snorted. "At least you still have hips, girl. Somewhere around my fifties I seemed to have transformed into a circle and lost mine." She patted her sides and shot me a wink. "If you find them, let me know, would you?"
We chatted amiably as she began her morning tasks and I followed her around, lending a hand where I could. She was creaming maple syrup into a pot of stewed oats and I was elbow deep in my task of chopping apples when another voice joined the mix.
"Does this mean I can go back to bed then?"
I turned to see Hattie smiling from the kitchen entrance. In the time since I’d arrived, we’d formed an easy friendship that I found grounding and she seemed to enjoy as well.
"Lord, no," I said, chuckling. I was a decent enough simple cook, but nothing like these women. "My apple chunks aren't at all uniform and I'm pretty sure I'll be relieved of my duties once Cook gets a look at them."
Hattie swept in and took up a spot beside me, snatching up a second paring knife. "You think those men are measuring the size of the apples in their chutney?" She elbowed me playfully in the side as she scooped up a shining apple. "There's only one thing men fret about the size of and, I don't want to tell tales out of school but, I'm pretty certain the Saint John brothers don't have issues in that area."
Shocked laughter blasted from my lips and Cook joined in a second later. It was a bittersweet moment, because as funny as Hattie and Cook were, I couldn't help but think of how Iris would enjoy their company.
"You okay, lass?" Cook asked, swiping her hands on her apron.
"Yes, I'm all right."
Both women eyed me dubiously and I tucked a stray curl behind my ear with a sigh. "I was just thinking of my family back home, that's all."
"It can be hard," Hattie agreed with a sympathetic smile. "Lucky for me, my kin all live in the city so I see them whenever I need to go to market. I can't imagine living more than a day's ride away."
She was sweet, Hattie. Especially considering she could have resented the hell out of me. I'd done nothing to deserve my status, and it was one that would afford me a life of luxury, the likes of which she would never know and here I was complaining because I missed my mum.
I forced a smile and shook my head ruefully. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind, is all. And I know I should be grateful. I am grateful," I corrected quickly, twisting my hands in my lap. "It's going to be fantastic. It will just take some getting used to."
She and Cook exchanged a glance and I pushed myself to my feet. My dream from the night before had come rushing back in full color and, suddenly, I wasn't feeling so well.
"I'll be right back. I just need to go to the ladies’ room."
I scurried from the room to the closest powder room and bent over the sink, struggling for breath.
"Stop it, you silly girl. Dreams are just that. Figments of imagination not magical portents of things to come."
After all, I'd never dreamed I'd be standing in the bathroom of a beautiful estate on the precipice of my whole life changing, had I?
No, I needed to put it out of my head so I could plan what came next for me.
I steeled myself and took a long moment to splash my face with icy water before patting it dry with a thick towel.
All was well. So long as it looked that way on the outside, I’d be good.
I made my way back to the kitchen feeling stronger with each step. There had been some bumps, but so far, I was handling things as well as could be expected considering I'd never imagined I'd be here. I had to focus on the positives and try to make the best of things, whatever they might be.
As I approached the open door, I could h
ear Hattie and Cook talking in hushed tones and I slowed.
"Do you think we should tell her?" Hattie asked in a hoarse whisper.
"I dunno. I mean, what would that do except frighten her?" Cook replied softly. “Is there any point? Probably it’s just gossip anyway.”
My stomach churned as I stepped back into the room and held Hattie's gaze. "Tell me what?"
Hattie’s busy hands froze and she shifted from foot to foot as she shot a telling glance to Cook before returning her gaze to meet mine.
"Anaya, I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to hear that."
“I know, and I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” I said, keeping my tone as even as I could despite the rush of fear coursing through me. "But I did hear it and now, if you please, I need to know what you're keeping from me."
Cook and Hattie shared another look and I stepped forward to take Hattie's cold hand in mine.
"Now that I've heard that much, anything I can imagine will be ten times worse than what you have to say. Put me out of my misery. I swear on my honor, I won't break your confidence."
Cook set her wooden spoon on the stove with a clatter and faced me square on.
“Two nights ago, one of the harem girls was found dead in her quarters. According to the servants there, she was notoriously hale and hearty, and there hadn't been any sickness traveling around the castle. She just...died and no one knows why."
I tried to digest that news, my brain already supplying rational explanations for such a thing, but Hattie was talking before I even had the chance to voice them.
"Not just that, Anaya. She wasn't the first."
I swayed on my feet, suddenly lightheaded as I grabbed for the counter for purchase.
"Okay," I muttered, my voice weaker than I'd intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. "There has to be a logical explanation. Surely, two girls out of dozens could be a coinci--"
"Three," Hattie cut in, her expression as grim as a reaper.
“Three what?" I managed through numb lips, already knowing the answer but unable to stop myself.