I used my hands to trace the wall and lead myself towards the railing of the winding staircase. I'd have to be very careful in the darkness to not fall down the steps and break my leg. As I made my way down the stairs as careful as I could, I noticed a fading light from the candelabras within the kitchen.
I huffed as I picked my skirts above my knees to continue on, focusing on getting some food inside of me. As well as to not step on any squeaking ends of floorboards to announce my late-night snacking to the entire staff.
Minutes passed until I reached the bottom of the staircase, and that's when I heard what sounded to be a mild rustling. Maybe the cook was still up and preparing food for our meals tomorrow.
I hoped there were leftovers from the dinner I had missed tonight that could be warmed for me. I licked my lips at the thought of a delicious savory dish for me to devour. Slowing my pace once I made it to the ground floor, I made certain to step only upon my toes. The kitchen wasn't far, so I made it to the food preparation area in haste.
I peeked around the corner to see if the chef was awake and prepping meals.
But he wasn't.
My eyes widened at the sight awaiting me within instead.
Father's thick, sausage like fingers sliding through Maria's hair, undoing the tight bun she had tied to the top of her head. She leaned forward from her seated position upon the table in the center of the kitchen that was used to chop meats.
Her lips moved forward until they met with another pair that was more than welcoming and waiting. Her hands placed themselves precariously onto his shoulders as she deepened their kiss.
The large hands moved from out of her hair, instead allowing them to rake down her back until they rested on her hips. She kicked her legs up, her skirt hiked up even higher as their bodies were close together, beginning a slow clothed grind against one another.
I backed away at the sight, unable to breathe, unable to comprehend anything happening in that moment. I placed a hand over my lips to keep from revealing myself and ran right back up the stairs I had just descended.
I paid only half the care I had used going down this time. The faster I could get into my room, the better. The faster I could force myself to go back to sleep and convince myself this was a nightmare. I slipped but prevented slamming my chin into the wood and falling onto my forearms instead. They would be bruised, but it didn't matter. I forced myself up and kept running.
Once I was at the top, I padded into my room, each thud making a hollow noise, but I didn't care. As soon as I made it inside of my room, I shut the door behind me. My back pressed against the door as I slid down onto the floor, my head in my hands as my shoulders shook.
Tears flooded down my face, unable to hold them back as they rushed forth. My eyes stung, and I wanted to scream. Instead of shouting, I merely sat like that. Back against the door, no desire to move to my bed.
How could father risk ruining our family by doing something like this?
And with that witch of a maid of all people.
It was a few days later, and I found that I had awoken in comfort. No pain in my back, no tingling or numbness from an awkward position of rest. I rose from my bed, hair swaying around my shoulders and tangled at the ends. My legs swung over the edge of the mattress, I stared at the patterns of the elaborate rug upon the center of the floor in my bedroom. Each design was dark maroon against the expanse of grey. The colors of the church.
There was a bit of an attempt from me to focus on the swirling designs that covered the fabric, but once again I had found myself unable to force out the disgusting scene I'd been witness to only a few evenings ago. My father. The maid servant. The way they held each other. The way they kissed.
A shudder crept across me as I hugged my arms together and sighed. An illness squeezed inside of my stomach, turning to knots. I didn't want to waste anymore tears on either of them, for they did not deserve them, but I couldn't control every emotional response my body gave in disgust.
I have to admit, I always had some type of premonition that there was something not right with their relationship. Neither of them cared about mother like I did. I'd known for a while, even if father did spy in on her to make sure she was still alive and breathing. To actually see them, however, being so intimate was different from an inclination of something awry.
My heart broke once again at the thought.
Why would father jeopardize the happiness in our household like that? Adultery was frowned upon by the priesthood, to where imprisonment could be a sentencing if caught. It might be easier for a man to get away with it, but if a woman were suspected of adultery, she would certainly be locked away.
The sound of horns brought me from my rambling thoughts. Familiar sounds that had called us to the town square. I hopped off the bed and walked over to the bay windows of my room. Spreading the heavy velvet curtains to the side, I could see out into the streets of Orléa. The townsfolk finally began to leave their homes after being stuck inside for days.
The high placement of the sun told me I'd been asleep for at least the better part of the morning, perhaps into the afternoon by now. The horns continued to blow. The low, hollow sound would stir any still sleeping townsfolk from their slumber. It signaled us forth once more toward the town square of the Temple District for better or worse information on what transpired in Xadania.
What did happen, I wonder? It hadn't been as long as we'd all anticipated for the soldiers to return. The guards that stopped by to issue out passes told us it would be at least a week before our soldiers would come home.
I bit my bottom lip and took a step back from the windows, allowing the curtains to stay open to help keep me from drifting back to sleep. As the horns droned on, I continued to ponder what this meant.
Was something even more dangerous happening? Maybe we were even to be evacuated from our city, despite our great walls that protected us. What would I do with mother if that happened? No, I was getting ahead of myself. Of course, there would be no danger approaching us here. I wasn't too sure where else we would flee if so, if even the Templars couldn't handle an onslaught of fae.
I shook my head, dragging my feet to my closet to find a proper outfit to wear. I couldn't run out into the street in my skivvies. I didn't bother to change into my full-bodied undergarments and corset.
In haste I grabbed the first dress I placed my hands on, one of powder blue. It was functional and simple, so I threw it on with little effort. I snuck a glance at myself as I passed the mirror of my boudoir before rushing out of my bedroom. I looked a mess, but what was new?
I tied my hair into a low braid, my usual lazy hairstyle, and popped into my mother's room before leaving just to check up on her. She was sleeping as usual. Even the horns couldn't awaken her with how deeply she slept. I wouldn't rouse her, she needed all the rest she could get.
As fast as I could without tripping over myself, I descended the staircase towards the foyer entrance. I placed casual slippers onto either foot, hopping as I tried to get them on without stumbling.
The front latch of the door was in my hand when a voice called out.
"M'lady!"
I looked behind me to spy our butler.
"I was just headed out to the square, James."
James had been working for us for as long as I could remember. He was an elderly man, with a hunched back, and always dressed to the nines, even for a butler. He was in control of most of the other servants in our home, keeping them out of our sight unless they were needed. Guiding them in their daily duties.
He raised a hand up as he responded, "Your father thinks it best if you were to stay home instead of leaving for the square. He wanted me to tell you once you awoke, but you have a nasty habit of sleeping in."
I furled my upper lip in confusion to his words. My father wanted me to stay home when all of Orléa was summoned? My innards knotted again. Something was wrong. Did he want me to stay to discuss the fact I saw him with Maria? If it was so, I knew I would
not like to take part in such an awkward conversation. Or did he just not want me at the square?
"Preposterous, I will do no such thing. I am a citizen of Orléa, am I not? I want to see what the city has been summoned for."
I reached forward to grab the handle of the iron door once again before the elderly gentleman placed his hand on my wrist. The demeanor of his face wrinkled further into a mixture of worry and seriousness.
"My lady, please. The master of this home has placed an order. Do not disobey him, he is in a right mood today."
I flicked my wrist to move his hand away.
"If the rest of the town is heading to the square. I would be in the wrong should I be the only one absent."
Without allowing him to reply, I smiled and headed out of the doorway, ignoring his warning. I stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind me by the iron knocker. I had to know what was happening. Especially if it was something my father wanted to shield me from.
7
I took a while to reach the entrance to the Temple District. This time around it was even harder to squeeze through the masses that had gathered once again. Despite the sheer size of the people who came in attendance, there was an eerie silence aside from the few whispers that were exchanged.
The disposition of everyone seemed to be of curiosity, with some of looming fear. I continued on, pushing from the back of the crowd and to the front as best I could. I had to see what all this fuss was about.
The people in the crowd were not faced towards the balcony that Father Acaba addressed people from but instead faced towards the gallows. As I got closer and closer, my eyes fixated on who was there, standing in silence as they peered over the crowd.
Several guards stood on the ground around the actual platform of the gallows. They seemed to keep the peace and keep people from getting any closer to those that stood on the makeshift stage.
The blowing of the horns continued for a minute on, minute off rhythm. Allowing others who had yet to arrive in time to get to the square from their homes to take witness to what would be said today.
On the main stage stood Father Acaba. His elbows extended out to his left and right while his hands clasped together in the center of his chest. He bent over in prayer, his hood shielding his face from us and the sun. Two other priests stood on either side of him, a quick chanting to themselves as if they were performing some opening ritual to a ceremony.
With how quiet it was aside from the horns, the scene in front of me made my skin creep with goosebumps. "Awul bless us, protect this sacred sacrament," the priests continued to whisper over and over. A strong wind blew, whipping my skirts around and the free strands of hair on my face as the horns and the chanting came to a simultaneous abrupt ending. Any remaining whispers within the crowd vanished then.
Father Acaba raised his head as the heavy folds of his pale hood shaded the upper portion of his face. His mouth was still visible. It looked tight, lined heavy with creases caused from his deep frown. It was easy to read that something wasn't right. It was then the sounds of marching could be heard. Many footsteps from behind the gallows and growing ever closer.
The stomping of metal boots over the wooden steps and down the stonework of the plaza was unnerving. The clanking of sheathed weapons bouncing on metal armor amidst the quiet was electrifying.
The hairs on the back of my neck raised as I felt a rush of a tingle. I rubbed my arms with my hands as I grew anxious. Father Acaba began to speak once the marching came to a halt.
"Our soldiers have intercepted the fae that were approaching the city of Awul and helped to close any further breaches within the town. We have been beyond successful, and we are blessed to have such an army to fight in the name of mankind."
The crowd began to release tentative cheers, the applause apprehensive. I gave a gentle clap as to not stand out as I looked around to those next to me.
"These brave men are heroes." He gestured to the gathered masses of militia members that had approached the gallows from the back. "But one stands out amongst the rest. His desire to protect shining as a beacon of hope. He has proven his capabilities to us all with his valiant efforts in Xadania."
His voice was boisterous, which was very unusual given the solemn tone the town meeting had started with. Father Acaba then nodded, gesturing to the man now stepping onto the stage.
"It is my honor, nay, my privilege, to give acknowledgment to this hero of Orléa. Young Alphonse Bordeaux, son of Lieutenant Enzo Bordeaux. The savior of humanity."
Alphonse.
Alphonse!?
I thought he was supposed to be on duty within town?! His father had made that very clear.
A few gasps erupted from the crowd, myself included in the surprise.
He stood tall upon the gallows' platform as he stepped up. There was no emotion showing across his face as he placed himself into his cold knightly exterior. But beyond his face, into his eyes, I could see the pride gleaming.
He surveyed the crowd as everyone cheered and the applause erupted more earnest than before. His face remained solid as iron, showing some restraint when I was sure he was jumping with joy inside.
As we all clapped for him, there were several other figures approaching the top of the gallows from behind Father Acaba and Orléa's new champion. While most people were still focused on the future Templar, my gaze was honed onto the figures now in full view.
I realized what was happening, the real reason why we had been summoned to the square. I covered my mouth as my eyes widened.
I'm sure most, if not all, us civilians had never seen such a thing in person, even some of those who were a part of the militia. We all knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what was being dragged and forced upon the stage was ...
Fae.
8
There were no words to describe it. I'm sure most people felt it too, but the sheer stillness surrounding us all; the energy falling to a standstill. All because of the creatures that now stood before us, elevated on the platform of the gallows. Their appearance was nothing like what we had been told. Nothing like the stories you could overhear from guards who'd boast about their fights against them in taverns. Nothing like the church conveyed to us with their fearmongering.
At the same time, they were not quite like the storybooks that were collected in my mother's room either. They were not winged, not quite as human in appearance. To even compare them to something like a human seemed unjustified.
The two fae stood front and center from the soldiers behind them. Their hands seeming to be tied behind their backs with how strained they were positioned. Standing so close to humans, their appearances seemed otherworldly in comparison.
The shorter one had brown murky hair, from a distance it looked almost like a forest green and glistening as if wet. Its skin so pale, there was an iridescent blue from the veins that trailed everywhere under its transparent skin.
It was clad in what seemed to be rags that had been covered in moss and leaves. The fae's head was hung forward, hair spilled forward over its shoulders in submission to its capture. It was hard to specify its gender as well. The body feminine and sleek, but well-toned with muscle.
The one to the left, stood taller than most of the humans there by a head or so. In contrast, he was completely different from the other fae. This one stood proud, almost arrogant even with the direness of his situation.
He held his head high as he glanced amongst everyone who stood within the crowded square of the Temple District. His gaze daring to watch each one of the spectators without a trickle of fear.
His hair appeared to be a rich, honey-blonde, darker at the roots. The skin shined a bright golden color that gave off an inner glow on its own, even without the aid of the direct sunlight upon the fae. In fact, the light seemed almost dim upon him.
This fae's body looked well-formed and thick with muscle displayed with his bare torso. The only clothing he wore was a makeshift strew of grey and red furs that tied around his wais
t like some barbarian. The two very pointed tips of his ears had been noticeable as they stood out from his hair.
I couldn't stop myself from staring at the two of them but focused on the latter of the two. He commanded such a presence, it almost seemed as if he was the one that was demanding attention from all of us townsfolk instead of Father Acaba. That was until the High Priest spoke again.
"Our hero, Alphonse, felt the call from the Everafter, from Awul himself. Our God sent a vision to help his brethren-in-arms and defend his beloved homeland from these virtueless monstrosities."
That's right. Alphonse.
The surrounding people seemed to shift as they peered over from the fae to the unwavering face of their anointed champion. Even I had to admit I was in awe. Maybe he was sent visions, and it is his destiny to become a Templar after all.
Even so, my eyes continued to flash over to the golden fae as my attention diverted from my friend.
Never in my life had I seen someone so magnificent. Godly even, in how inhuman he was in stature. And yet so much more humanoid than monsters that many had thought of the horrific savages the church portrayed them to be.
Without warning, the golden fae's eyes snapped to mine, and I seized. My shoulders tightened as they raised, and my hands wrapped around my body to squeeze myself as if that would protect me from his intense gaze.
His eyes were like molten silver, almost glowing from how they shined and pulled my sole focus on him even while Father Acaba continued his speech. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. I was surprised my heart even continued to beat.
The golden fae narrowed his eyes, the corners of his lips upturning by the tiniest amount, but enough for me to notice. His brows lowered as they creased closer together, when suddenly a buzzing sensation crawled in the back of my skull.
A constant thrum that continued to spread over my scalp, tingling and looking for a way inside of my mind. The feeling grew and grew until I thought I couldn't take it anymore. Then it stopped, suddenly changing. Instead of an irritating hum, now a soft whisper meandered through my mind. All of this happening in a matter of seconds.
Taken by Fae (Humans vs Fae Book 1) Page 4