“Did Coal bring tea?”
“Yes,” she said, fidgeting with the edge of her blanket.
Leaf did not answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at her arms and then her chest, narrowing his eyes. “Be careful.”
The warning made her stomach flip as her brother stood to walk away. Oaklee glanced down and noticed that she only wore her shift, not even a modest chemise nightgown, exposing her arms, shoulders, with a neckline that scooped low on her chest. Blood rushed to her face, and she placed her hands over her chest protectively, mortified that she had allowed Coal in her room while she was undressed. Scandalous indeed.
“Leaf, please wait if you would,” she requested while pulling the blankets up to her chin. Her brother turned around and knelt beside her once again. “Please fetch my nice dress, I have something that belongs to you.” He followed her directions, removing the garment from a peg on the wall, and brought it to her. She slipped her hand inside the dress and pulled out the piece of paper. “It fell from your pocket during the ceremony today.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly, tucking it into his own pocket without a glance.
“What is it? I stole a look at the picture. Why do you keep it on you?” Oaklee placed the back of her hand on her head, feeling a wave of dizziness.
He blinked his eyes before placing his head into his hands with a deep breath. She braced herself, knowing this was important, perhaps another secret that would change her life. She tired of secrets, each one a dagger straight to her heart.
Leaf stood up and walked to the door with heavy footsteps. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I found this in father’s pocket prior to the procession.”
She drew her brows together in surprise. “The picture is most unusual. Was it his?”
“I am tired and I need to rest my thoughts awhile. Let us continue this conversation on the morrow.”
Leaf gave her a bow and a compassionate smile, and then walked out of her room. The door creaked as he shut it, and the wrought-iron handle swung and knocked against the wooden plank, making her cringe.
Oaklee stretched her arms as she came to a stand, each muscle tight and drugged from sleep. The nausea made her want to crawl out of the room as throbbing pain consumed her head. Her whole body revolted against living. She did not want to get out of bed. She did not want to face the world. Leaf would forgive her for not wishing to participate in the evening meal following the ceremony, but she knew her sister needed her presence. She was Laurel’s sister and her mother.
With eyes drooping, Oaklee walked slowly across the room, found her day dress, and slipped it on over her shift. She knelt and placed the nicer dress she wore for the ceremony in a large cedar chest at the end of the bed. A wrought iron oak tree spread across the lid of the chest, and as she closed it she traced her fingertips around the metalwork.
Coal had damaged the original plain-wood lid when he jumped off the cedar chest as a lad of nine. A smile formed on her face at the memory. He had roared, jumped from her bed to the chest, and from the chest to the floor, all with intent of scaring her so that he may chase her in a state of fright out of the apartment and into the woods. However, his leap had cracked and splintered the wooden top. They both had halted their movements and stared at the chest in horror until he turned and gave her a certain boyish grin, one that revealed a rather endearing dimple that always charmed the village matrons and made her giggle. Their fathers each had long words with him, and Coal was responsible for the Watsons' compost for a whole week as payment for his misadventure. The lid remained until her thirteenth birthday when he presented a new top from the carpenter, flourished with the tree he had forged personally as his first act as a full-fledged blacksmith at age fourteen.
Slowly, she brushed her hand over the tree, and her thoughts wandered to Coal’s feather-light kiss upon her forehead. It was not a dream. Her memories were sharp, and the edges cut into her heart. Oaklee braced her hands against the lid of the chest and stood up. They could not marry. With determination, she pushed away the troubling thoughts and focused on readying for the evening meal.
The nights had become cool, and the autumn air upon nightfall would refresh her flushed skin after enduring the stifling room of the Great Hall. She fastened a cloak around her neck, and then stopped, reaching up a hand to touch the tangled strands. Perhaps Laurel would return the favor and brush her hair as well.
She inched toward the living room and upon reaching the stone archway she turned on her heel, running toward the composter in the lavatory as her stomach lurched. The tea violently left her body as she began to retch, bringing on fresh tears, never feeling so vile in all her days. She knelt on the floor, attempting to regain her composure, but failed as a wave of dizziness competed with her headache.
A hand touched her back gently, and her body flinched. She knew it was Leaf. Oaklee could feel the calluses on his fingers through her linen dress.
“Come, we need to place you back in bed, ma chère.”
He scooped her off the floor effortlessly, and Oaklee rested her head on his chest, comforted with the rhythmic beating of his heart as he carried her across the hallway and back to her room. Leaf laid her gently on the bed and untied her cloak with a drawn expression on his face. At the end of her bed, he opened the cedar chest and pulled out a night gown edged in bobbin lace, placing the folded garment in her hands.
“I shall leave so you may change in privacy.”
Oaklee sat on her bed a few heartbeats before finding the energy to change, leaving her day dress draped across her wooden chair. Closing her eyes, she pulled the covers up to her chin and tried focusing on the sounds outside her window. A familiar songbird chirped a sad tune nearby, a reminder that she was dying from grief. At this moment, she would welcome death, any kind of sweet relief from the torment her body was experiencing, and she prayed that Coal would not interfere.
The door opened, and she felt Leaf’s presence beside her bed. Unable to open her eyes, she lay still and enjoyed her brother’s shadow darkening the light on her face.
“Willow, do not worry about the ceremony’s evening meal. I shall send for the naturopath to administer something for your present relief.”
Oaklee reached out her hand from beneath the covers, groping for Leaf’s so he knew she heard him. Leaf took her hand and gently kissed it, caressing the top of her fingers with his thumb before tucking her hand back under the blankets. He left the room, quietly shutting the door, and the songbird outside her window continued its mournful lullaby.
She felt honored. Oaklee was cared for by Leaf the gentle, Leaf the kind, Leaf the steadfast. After pointing out her obvious scandal, he did not demand a marriage to Coal, a reassuring fact given his warning and her undressed state. Did he suspect her reluctance? Did he have knowledge she did not possess? Was he extending grace due to her state of mourning? Regardless, she finally felt she could trust Leaf after nearly four years of wishing her brother was never born.
The card in his pocket jostled with each step as Leaf walked with Laurel toward the Great Hall, his concern for Willow mounting with each stride. He had never seen another suffer physically from an illness such as his sister. The residents in New Eden were rather resilient, made even more so by being alienated from the rest of the world.
The picture on the card suggested that his father did not die of natural causes. Was Willow being poisoned? Where did Coal get the cup of tea for his sister? Leaf shook his head and attempted to brush away the paranoia rooting itself in his mind.
Willow was not being poisoned. She had always been an emotional creature, and her body was simply manifesting all it had created inside that wild heart of hers. Nonetheless, to be safe, he would request that the naturopath administer charcoal and goat’s milk. He felt torn, wishing to remain by her side in case she needed anything, and knowing he had to attend the meal tonight to represent their family.
Leaf looked down at Laurel and placed a hand upon her shoulder while giving a fo
rced smile for her benefit. She provided him the same trusting look she always had, tawny eyes sparkling with affection. He felt honored that Laurel placed such stock in him, although at age eight, she was not capable of measuring wisdom or leadership capabilities.
A small dark head popped out around the prominent stone archway which marked the entry to the Great Hall, and Laurel ran from his side toward her friend with giggles. Laurel and Corona were such happy girls, often lost in their whimsical imaginations and adventures.
Ember neared the stone archway with an amused look on her face as she watched the girls embrace each other. With a posture of elegance, she glanced out the door toward the temperate forest. Her face tilted in angles as she searched The Orchard and path, a look of relief passing her features as her eyes met his. She bowed her head and dipped gracefully, and Leaf felt his pulse quicken. The Daughter of Fire was radiant as the evening sun touched her amber honeyed curls.
He understood Coal’s longing for one he had wanted all his life. He felt the same. Although, he would never dishonor Ember with his feelings. A lesson Coal should heed, and he would ensure Coal understood the guidelines in his home, and with his sister. The young man behaved recklessly. A gentleman should regard a lady’s reputation above all else, most especially if she was emotionally unstable. Coal, similar to Leaf’s father, enjoyed being swallowed whole whenever Willow’s gale force winds would whip up a storm, and Leaf feared Coal would not take her need for boundary lines seriously.
Coal’s sister continued to honor him as he approached and Leaf took in a wary breath. Skylar, Son of Wind, had shown interest in Ember since her sixteenth birthday earlier in the year. And, for all appearances, she seemed to approve of his advances. Therefore, Leaf refrained from courting her affection, as Skylar was more to him than a friend. He was a sworn brother. Still, Leaf could not help the longing. Not one to form resentments, he maneuvered his mind to wish them well, wanting only all the joy and blessings a union could bring for Ember’s sake. Even if she could not be his, Leaf wanted her to be happy and fulfilled.
In truth, it no longer mattered how he felt toward Ember, for everything had changed. Would he be stripped of his nobility now that his father was dead? How could he remain Son of Earth if he no longer had the Earth Element as a father? There was also the family secret to consider. If true, would he wish to bring that into any attachment he formed with another?
He gave a nervous glance her direction as he reached the entry, offering a kind smile as he continued into the Great Hall. A soft touch on his arm made him pause. Leaf knew he should be polite, acting as a gentleman should with a lady requesting his attention, but he wished for solitude. He willed his breathing to calm before peering her direction. Ember searched his eyes for a few heartbeats, and then her face softened into a look of compassion, placing her fingers upon his arm once more.
“How are you faring, My Lord?”
“As well as I can, My Lady. You are most kind for asking.”
“Is Willow still unwell?” Ember looked past him toward the temperate forest before her brown eyes rested on him, the look on her face amplifying the pulse he struggled to contain.
“Yes, I am afraid so. I am in search of the naturopath for charcoal and goat’s milk.”
“Allow me, My Lord. Please feel at ease, and join the others for the evening meal. Your father deserves your honor this night.” Ember lowered her eyes respectfully.
In a hoarse whisper he answered, “You are generous, My Lady,” feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders.
“I cannot imagine the burdens you carry, Leaf.”
Both locked eyes at the use of his whispered name, and she gifted him with a small smile. It was one that was commonly described as mysterious by others in the community, as she often spoke in riddles or with a hint of information that suggested she understood the future or the heart of a situation. He found this side of Ember alluring, her confidence and insight a balm to his insecurities.
Uncomfortable and unsure if he could remain respectful of where her interests lay, he bowed graciously before leaving her presence. Skylar watched from the head table, his stare intense but benign. Leaf understood Skylar’s message; it was one of friendship, but also to acknowledge that his friend observed their interaction. Leaf ignored the warning, pulling out his chair on the other end of the table near Connor and his wife, Brianna. Jeff, the town barrister, sat opposite, his eyes bloodshot with a strange twitch as he made his greeting.
“Are you ill, My Lord?”
“No more than you, dear boy,” Jeff responded with a tight smile. “I fear we all suffer the same malady.”
“Indeed,” Leaf said, casually taking in the older man.
Jeff clearly suffered from more than grief alone. Was he poisoned as well? Alarms sharpened Leaf’s senses, and he looked over the table at each of The Elements and their families as they leaned in conversation, curious as to who would turn on their friend and why. A stone in his stomach increased in weight with each paranoid thought that flitted across his mind.
Timothy laughed at something Alex, Norah’s husband, had said, and Leaf gave a guarded glance in the Wind Element’s direction. Connor cleared his throat, and turned toward the laughter as well, appearing uncomfortable and melancholy. Norah gazed out the latticed windows toward The Orchard, nibbling on a small piece of flatbread. In some ways they acted very much themselves, and in other ways, their grief showed. But not their guilt. Leaf watched Timothy speak with Alex in his usual charismatic way, grateful he was seated at the quieter end of the table and away from the Kanes.
Skylar met his eyes, quirking an eyebrow in question from across the table. Leaf offered his friend a sad smile, and Skylar replied with one in return, dipping his head in respect. With sluggish movements, Leaf shifted his gaze and scanned the gathering, watching happy families share stories of their day with one another while their laughter carried throughout the room. He tried to sit straight and present a bearing that would make his father proud, but he wanted to disappear.
His sister was suffering, and he could do little to ease her pain. Every moment that passed increased his belief that someone within his community had truly broken The Code and betrayed their family. Secrets upon secrets were weaving into a strange and mysterious fabric that would ultimately clothe his future. And despite all these issues, he needed to remain calm, for his sisters, for himself, and also to ensure that he did not alert the aggressor that he knew of The Legacy. Until he found the Scroll, whatever that may be, he was unable to inform Hanley Nichols that a transfer of power had occurred.
Coal had closely watched Leaf’s exchange with Skylar, and then looked for Ember. Leaf was humored that Coal felt a sense of protection toward Ember but did not regard his own actions with another’s sister, a sign of his youthfulness, or worse, a character flaw. His father was known for his impulsive responses and behavior at times. Perhaps Coal could not help his disposition. But Leaf would help him understand boundary lines. Coal would love to find himself in a position where he had to marry Willow in order to redeem her good name, and Leaf would do all in his power to safeguard such a situation. Willow deserved a union she desired, not one forced upon her by a lovesick young man.
A serving woman removed his plate once confirming that he was finished, not a single bite enjoyed. He felt a twinge of guilt that he had wasted perfectly good food, even though he knew the goats, chickens, and pigs would feast in his stead. In light of the card in his pocket, he could not deny his anxiety as much as he countered internally that Willow and Jeff were not the victims of poisoning.
He had sat before his meal in silence, head down, not wishing to converse with anyone—especially when he suspected that one at this table had murdered his father. What would he do if he proved his fears true? Perhaps Master Fillion could provide the promised salvation at that point, despite Leaf’s fear that the young man was more pomp and ego than substance. Yet his looks and overly confident nature did suggest he held real
power and sway.
He glanced around the table, unsure of what he should do next, and watched as Jeff placed his fork down upon a plate, another meal left untouched. The card in his pocket poked against his skin, and Leaf decided to implore Jeff to explain its origins and meaning.
“Brianna,” Leaf began quietly. He timidly met the silvery blue gaze of Coal’s and Ember’s step-mother. She watched him with concern, her eyebrows arching up with the mention of her name. “May I trespass upon your kindness to keep Laurel for a short duration? I desire a walk before returning home.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “Hopefully Ember will return soon with word on how your sister is faring.”
“Yes, thank you, I appreciate your concern,” he finished. In a bold move, he kicked Jeff under the table, and then spoke formally in a tone he hoped delivered his message to the barrister without alerting the table of his intentions, “I am off to walk to The Waters.” He glanced Jeff’s direction, and the lawyer gave a bow as all others did upon his departure, providing an extra nod.
Leaf let out a sigh as he walked out of the Great Hall and toward the fruit trees on the fringe of The Rows, feeling like he could breathe again. He was unsure if revealing the card to Jeff was a wise action, not wishing to expose himself or his family to further harm, but he did not know where else to turn. The arbor was a welcome relief, and Leaf climbed upon a rock and faced the mineral hot spring upon entering The Waters.
The shadows on the wall from the hedge shifted as the sun set and Leaf marked the time as he waited. Leaves crunched as footsteps drew near, and Jeff walked in, anxiety permeating every step as he approached. Dismay swirled in his gut when the lawyer refused to meet his eyes, a usual sign of guilt. Nevertheless, he was determined to the show the card.
The stiff paper was easy to grip as he pulled it out of his pocket and held it up for Jeff to see. The lawyer’s eyes startled and his skin paled, and an icy hand of fear gripped Leaf’s heart. With a single finger, he beckoned Leaf to follow as he silently turned and walked toward the chancery without a look back.
Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) Page 13