She glanced up and down the hall. There were no corridors branching off here, no rooms with doors for an eavesdropper to listen at. They couldn't be any more alone than if she'd taken him into her chambers. And she'd already had Lucias in there, although granted he'd left upon her dismissal.
Her cheeks warmed at the reminder of how she'd spoken to him. Her gaze swung back to Thad, the heat in her cheeks burning hotter with each passing moment. "If I tell you," she whispered, "will you take me with you when you leave?"
His lips flattened into a thin line as they continued to walk. The fair brows lowered further until the inner tips touched. "I don't think he would approve."
Of course Lucias wouldn't want her taken from here. That was the point. Allowed to be free of the Citadel, Clara would spend the rest of her life ensuring he could never find her again. The rest of his life, at least. "If you don't help me, he'll rape me."
Thad's steps faulted. He righted himself, walking on for some time in silence. "I highly doubt he'd force you. He loathes men who stoop to such actions."
Men like the old Great Lord. Clara frowned. Did it mean Lucias also despised his own father? She could see how people could believe it. Just as she could imagine how Lenora could grow to hate her son enough to want him dead.
"And what is Lucias' stance towards the men who'd steal a woman straight off the streets to be their mistress?" She trembled, hugging herself as she recalled the deadline he'd given her. "He has made it plain if I do not choose to go to him before the new moon, then he'll come after me. And now, it seems my time has run out."
"This is the threat he so willingly gave you?" Thad's jaw tightened as she nodded, his green eyes hardening. "Then I shall speak with him, get him to rescind his words."
"No!" She darted forward to block his path. "You'll only make it worse." Lucias may have already decided waiting was no longer a viable option, but he had not spoken a word to her about it. She didn't want to find out if he'd risk forcing her whilst these men were still here. "Please, just take me with you. It doesn't even have to be all the way."
He rubbed his jaw, his fingertips audibly scraping against his unshaven skin. "Say I did entertain this notion of taking you—"
"And Tommy," she blurted, her face ablaze. How could she have almost forgotten about taking the poor boy? She'd need to bring him with her if he was to keep his soul.
Thad frowned. "Who's Tommy?"
"He's my page," she said and, when his frown deepened, realised she'd have to explain further. "He's not under Lucias' control." No point telling him the reasons behind why or she'd never convince Thad to take either of them.
"You speak of the boy he sent to Everdark? How... interesting." He stared at her a little too long for her comfort. Did he suspect she hadn't revealed the whole truth? Or did his thoughts take him down some path she hadn't yet considered? "Very well. Say I took you, and Tommy, with us when we leave." He circled her in slow, measured strides. "Now then, supposing Lucias does not attempt to retrieve you, how do you intend to pay your way?"
Pay? She hadn't given much thought towards what she'd do after escaping the Citadel. She supposed Tommy would do fine working with the horses. He'd certainly cope well enough to cover his travelling expenses. But what service could she possibly provide? Her cooking and cleaning skills were barely passable, at least according to her mother. Perhaps they'd be enough for a trip across the land? There wasn't much else she could offer.
Clara lowered her head. "I will do whatever you ask," she murmured, her mind still elsewhere.
What would she do if Lucias did come after her? She didn't intend to linger anywhere close by to make it easy for him. Surely he'd seek to replace her rather than waste the precious time he had travelling the kingdom to track her down.
Thad crossed his arms. "Even if my price is no different than what you are running from?"
Her head snapped up and she took a frantic step backwards. He seemed to be far stronger than Lucias. Even without the aid of the Great Lord's sorcerous ways, if Thad decided to take her to his bed, she wouldn't have much of a say in it.
"Peace, dear lady, it was only a question. You need not tremble so." His strong, calloused fingers brushed her chin. He tipped her head up, holding her gaze. "I am a married man and I would not dream of betraying the woman who, at this moment, carries our third child."
He had a wife? Of course he does. A man like Thad would not reach his middle years without having been married at least once. The evening chatter had revealed he was the count's eldest child and, as such, he would've been in need of an heir himself. And he has three of them. No doubt with a lady who adored him.
Her skin prickled as she eyed his face. Endlight was on the border. Not just any border, but the first defence between the kingdom and whatever the court at Ne'ermore threw at them. How merciful would invaders be towards children?
Unable to look at him for long, Clara settled on a casual inspection of the hall. She didn't think she wanted to know the answer.
"Please," he sighed. "Do let me speak with him. The magic is reputed to do strange things to a man's mind, but I don't believe it has warped his ethics so much as to threaten rape."
"You think I'm lying." It would be a natural assumption. Believe the person you know rather than the one you didn't.
"Not at all, my lady. Seeing how you act when he is beside you, the silent dread radiating in your eyes..." He shook his head. "As much as I wish it were not true, I can fully believe you heard what you did. But I cannot accept he would knowingly threaten such a thing, especially unprovoked."
Shaking, her eyes stinging with influx of angry tears, Clara balled her hands.
He held up a hand before she could open her mouth. "I'm not saying you provoked him or you would deserve such a fate if you had. Merely that I believe he has misspoken, perhaps in anger, and is unaware of his words."
Looking into his eyes, seeing the soft unease lurking within, she knew Thad would not help her. For the sake of his own children's lives, he wanted his lord's heir to at least be in the making almost as much as Lucias desired it. Any woman would probably do in Thad's mind. She was just the most convenient.
"Do you think he also misspoke when he had me kidnapped?" Lucias may not have given the order to collect five prospective women, but he had told them to seek at out a mistress. Had chosen to keep her here. "I am a prisoner."
"A prisoner?" Thad paced before her; five steps one way, then turn and take another five steps. "Has he mistreated you since your arrival? Struck you, perhaps? No, he's never struck a woman in all the years I've known him. Starved you, then?" He halted before her, his eyes hooded. "You look well fed to me. He even allows you the freedom to walk these halls unescorted." One finger waggled at her as if she were some child. "If these are things you believe a prisoner is entitled to then, my lady, I think you have led quite the sheltered life."
She stared at him. "He allows it because he knows I'm trapped here." A prison was still a prison no matter its size. I have no freedom. No doubt Lucias would've become less lenient if she had continued with her escape attempts.
"As is he."
"He can leave whenever he so chooses."
"But has he?"
Clara lifted her chin, staring down her nose at him. If he wasn't going to help her, then she wasn't about to give him any more information.
Thad shook his head. The faint sneer tweaking his lips flattened out. "You needn't speak a word. Your silence is answer enough. There is nowhere else he could go which is as heavily defended as this and manned solely by the lord's men." He rubbed his forehead, brushing the hair aside. "Has he told you what will happen to the kingdom if he dies heirless?"
Her thoughts fell on Everdark and the hundreds of people claiming the village as home. All of them blissfully unaware of the danger in living so close to the Citadel. "Of the risk, you mean?" There was always a chance the soulless men would die with Lucias. She wished there was a way for him to evade the death he seemed
so certain of. He'd undoubtedly be more amenable to her request of freedom without the threat of the executioner's sword hovering over his neck.
"Clearly he did not inform you of the near disaster brought upon by the third Great Lord's nearly heirless death."
The third Great Lord? "That was many successions ago." Did they honestly expect her to have memorised every detail of Lucias' ancestors? She could barely recall Lucias was the eleventh Great Lord, and only because she'd had the knowledge stamped into her as a child. "How would you know what had transpired back then?" How could a man be nearly heirless? Surely it was either one way or the other.
"Lucias spent much of his younger years at Endlight, training and fighting. Before then, when his father had considered him too young to travel, my father would have me spend my youth here. I learnt much about the Great Lords, perhaps more than any nobleman outside the bloodline ever has."
"Then you tell me what happened if you know it so well."
"Best if you asked him. It is not my place to speak of it." He peered at her. "Nor would it be a wise move for me to aid his mistress in fleeing. I can talk with him though. Perhaps it would be enough to have him revoke his decision. I cannot, however, force his hand. He is our Great Lord after all."
"Our Dark Lord," she muttered, sharply recalling what Lucias claimed to be the name used by the neighbouring kingdoms for his ancestors. And now for him.
"He told you of that, too." Thad clasped his hands behind him. "You must know it to be naught else but a name. Given first to the fifth Great Lord and handed down through the successions."
Judging by the bitterness she recalled in Lucias' voice, she would've expected Kerwin to have been considered the first Dark Lord. Just another parasite who drains men of their souls. The memory of his words, spoken just this morning, floated to the surface. She set her jaw, fighting down the unexplainable sadness welling in her chest. Even with everything she'd seen, all she had heard, Lucias didn't deserve to be lumped with his murderous ancestors.
"We've attacked most of the neighbouring lands in the past," Thad continued, "and they're rightly wary of us doing so in the future. Whether it'll happen in our time we've yet to see, but they have never fully understood why the kingdom allows her Great Lords do what they've always done. What the foreign lands fear the most has always been their..." He frowned at her. "...their magic."
"Odd." She crossed her arms, holding them tight to her chest. "I would've thought they'd be more frightened of their ability to steal souls."
The fair brows twitched upwards. "Yes," he murmured, seemingly to himself, "he would've told you that."
"Actually, I stumbled upon his little secret." Would Lucias have revealed such a fact to her had she not discovered it? He would've had to eventually. But, by then, she'd have been too late to save Tommy.
"Then you must stumble into some strange places, my lady."
"I was following Tommy," she haughtily replied, her cheeks burning new.
"Your page?" He rubbed at his chin. The look in his eyes suddenly became a little too keen for her liking. "However did you manage to convince him not to take the lad's soul?"
Clara stiffened. "I promised to stay. That is the only reason I am allowed to wander these halls at all and why I must take Tommy with me when I leave." Sick guilt twisted her stomach. If only he hadn't been caught. She could've been far from here by now. I could've left him to his fate. It hadn't been an option then, she would not consider it as one now.
His lips pressed into a thin line. Thad stared at her for some time, before finally speaking. "I see." He gave a quick bow. "I must be off. There is much which needs discussing before the morn. I wish you a fair night's rest, my lady." He strode down the hall from whence he'd came, his determination pounding out in each footfall.
"Please," she called out. "Promise you will not speak with him on this."
Showing no sign of having heard her plea, Thad disappeared around the corner.
Dread crept up her spine as she listened to his fading footsteps. What would Lucias' reaction be once the pair spoke? She wasn't sure whether he'd dismiss her claim or, with his pretence at civility revealed for what it was, turn around and do the deed before the men left.
With the chill air pricking at her skin at every step, Clara hastened up the stairs to her chambers where she locked the frail wooden barrier of her gilded prison. There was one thing she could be truly certain of. No one was going to help her find a way out. She would need to do it on her own.
Chapter Fifteen
The kitchen pulsed with a life of its own. Big, bubbling pots sat on the stoves and the delectable smells coming from within tweaked at her nose. People bustled about the room, working at various stations.
Tables dominated the centre of the room. It was here the vegetables and meat was diced or minced by quick, skilled workers. The prepared food was taken from these tables to be dumped into some of the pots where more people stood, occasionally dipping their spoons into the water to stir the contents.
Other people worked at lumps of dough, picking it off the floured boards only to throw the blobs back down with a sticky slap. At the far end of the room, where three oven doors took up much of the wall, a tray of uncooked loaves was being placed into the kiln. One of the men walked by with another batch and the hot aroma of freshly-baked bread drifted up to greet her.
Clara's stomach growled. No one had come to wake her. It wasn't as if they could've done more than knock if they wanted to keep their lord's illusion of her being in possession of the only key. She'd padded down through the Citadel's halls alone, eventually finding herself here.
She stood next to one of the heavy tables running down the centre of the room, basking in the warmth. It reminded her of home. Not of the pokey kitchen where her mother cooked, but of the Feast Day bustle when tables filled the streets and the air gained a spicy tinge.
The wet chonk of a blade hitting wood brought her back from the edge of reminiscing. The noise hadn't been loud, but some sounds, like steel slicing through flesh and bone, didn't need to be.
She spun to find Gettie watching her. Several plucked chickens lay before the woman, spread out in various stages of dismemberment. The bird on the thick cutting board directly in front of the woman already lacked a leg.
"You'll find them in the courtyard, mistress." The chicken's other leg was removed with a single swing. It seemed the Gutter of Neardim had found an excellent use for her blade-wielding skills.
Clara swallowed, her stomach fluttering. "Who says I'm looking for them?" She had idly wondered where the three lords had vanished, assuming they'd be in the study or the training grounds or some such place doing whatever noblemen did when they gathered.
One grey brow twitched upwards. Another chicken was lifted onto the block. The cleaver swung again and the frail ribcage didn't stand a chance. "No one, mistress. Nevertheless, they can be found there." The woman nodded towards a nearby table upon which sat a basket of apples. "Do be sure to eat a little something before you leave, mistress."
Clara paused in her hesitant shuffle towards the table, her hand already lifting to pluck a red and yellow apple from the basket. Leave? Did Gettie suspect she'd try to escape whilst the count and his son were still here? She peered at the woman, finding naught but sincerity in the old face. Gettie must be meaning the room itself.
Snatching an apple before another word could be said, Clara left the kitchen to resume her quiet wandering along corridors that stood bare, save for the occasional torch or candle.
She adored the servants' ways far more than the grandiose halls of above. Not as labyrinthine as the passages just below her feet, these lesser ways wove through the Citadel's underbelly and eventually became one with the larger halls. Munching on the crisp apple, Clara sauntered through the corridors she knew would lead to the entrance.
The courtyard was alive. Although, if the Citadel's kitchen could be compared to a carefully maintained beehive, the scene before her was a kicked
anthill. Men scurried about the Endlight carriage. A team of horses were harnessed to the vehicle, others had been saddled and were now being led to riders, both of which she assumed came from the border city.
Thad, dressed in fancier attire than the serviceable leathers he'd arrived in, stood on the stairs leading into the chaos. A horse was brought before him and, adjusting his gloves, he trotted down the steps.
Clara trailed after him. "You're leaving so soon?" She'd hoped they'd be a few more days. Just long enough to think of a way to escape at the same time as them and leave Lucias thinking she was on her way to Endlight.
He halted in inspecting his mount's straps, turning to regard her. "Ah, dear lady, so nice of you to see us off." He inclined his head as the dark figure of Lucias strode across the courtyard towards them. "As I was explaining to Lucias, father wishes to collect his betrothed before sundown." He grinned at her and her cheeks warmed. "You're welcome to join us, my lady."
Lucias planted himself before the older man, his dark brows lowered. "She cannot le—"
"You know you are also more than welcome to come with us, Lucias. Bring her with you." He clapped an arm over Lucias' shoulder and Clara flinched, unsure if Thad had also marked his lord's sword hand twitch. "She's not a prisoner, now is she?" The man's voice suddenly gained a certain steely quality. Had he already spoken to Lucias? Her stomach knotted. What had been said between them?
Lucias' dark brows pulled down further. His handsome jaw twitched as his face took on a definite 'younger brother' scowl. "I suppose there's no harm in a brief excursion to the village." The words were stilted, his voice monotone. A child repeating something he'd been taught but did not believe.
The village. They were permitting her entry into Everdark? She could easily lose him on the streets. Clara took a deep breath, barely able to contain her glee. "I'm not going anywhere without Tommy." She flinched as Lucias' glare switched to her. She'd sounded far too eager and perhaps, given the barely agreeable mood he was in, asking for the boy to join them was a step too far. He had to know she wouldn't leave without Tommy. What better anchor was there for her than to keep the boy here instead?
Dark One's Mistress (Dark One Trilogy Book 1) Page 13