Shadaya: Out of Darkness (Gemstone Royals)

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Shadaya: Out of Darkness (Gemstone Royals) Page 2

by Kelly A. Purcell


  Shadaya pursed her lips. She did want to know how they all fared. She’d had to leave suddenly and had come straight home, after all it would not have been wise to stop and ask any questions.

  "Let me get dressed, I will be down in a moment."

  Eunice nodded and took a step back from the door, "and Eunice?"

  "Yes Madam?"

  "Do not wake my mother nor mention this within her hearing."

  "Of course," Eunice gave a quick bow and shuffled down the dark hall.

  It was still the early hours of the morning and Shadaya was beginning to feel the results of her late-night gallivanting. She ran her hand down the side of her arm over the tender bruise and grimaced. She had to put an end to these crazy notions, least the people start spreading false hope. Because she surely was no hero, she was a thief and now she was possibly a murderer.

  Shadaya descended the stairs, running her hands along the gold inlayed banister her great-grand father had insisted on. According to her father, her great-grand father after a falling out with the king, had decided that he wanted a palace of his own, or something close to it. He expanded his estate and the Quadin name became associated with more than old money and royal connections but also with the best made soap in Dravia. Her family had been pleasing the monarchy for generations, as was their place, even after it had cost her father his life.

  As she entered the room, those who sat stood, and those who stood bowed in acknowledgment of her nobility. It always made her cringe inside. But she dared not ask them to do otherwise.

  "As you were," she said.

  Pit took his seat obediently beside her.

  Her gaze went right to Reeva, the young girl fell back onto the cushioned seat like her knees could not handle the weight of her. A part of her wanted to bolt from the room as Reeva's big earth eyes settled on her, what if she had seen her?

  "Reeva," she said, her confident tone belying her fears, "I have heard of your ordeal."

  She approached her gracefully and stooped before her, something a noblewoman would never do. She reached out to take Reeva's cold hands, tucked nervously in the folds of her dress and cupped them in her own.

  Reeva lowered her gaze, "I am well lady Shadaya," came the timid reply, the tremor in her voice tugging at Shadaya's heart.

  "I am happy to hear that you are safe and that those vile men have not been able to get their hands on you."

  She sighed, "I do not get it and I never will get such traditions. Thank Rad that you have returned to us."

  The name of the god who had failed her seven years ago almost stuck in her throat. Even more now that she was spending so much time with her rebel friends. She barely called upon him these days, unless it was to keep up appearances.

  The girl looked over at her father and fresh tears tumbled down her cheeks.

  “I am sorry father, I should not have been out so late, but Lord Herring insisted that we finish up at the cloth factory.”

  Anger ignited in Shadaya’s heart at the sound of that name, she and Lord Herring had a tumultuous business and personal relationship. The man was a ruthless, cold hearted fool and she would not doubt that he had asked them to work late knowing the risk of being selected. There were many noble men who benefited financially from the practice and supported it whole heartedly. While the religious leaders turned a blind eye in the name of the greater good. She reached up and cupped the girl’s chin, it trembled as she clearly fought to control her emotions.

  "It is okay Reeva, I see that you hurt even though you have escaped. Stay here tonight. And there is no need for you to go back to work for that cruel man."

  She stood up and turned to Eunice who was looking at their exchange with that maternal pride Shadaya had always loved.

  "Eunice, would you prepare a bed for Reeva in the servant's quarters?"

  “Yes, mi lady.”

  “And I will see about getting you away from that heartless Lord Herring.”

  She turned to the hunched man with the tired eyes standing like a guard next to Reeva, his only daughter. Seeing the relief in his eyes gave Shadaya peace for a moment, maybe her actions were truly justified.

  "Bertrand," she whispered, "get some rest."

  She watched as he bowed out of the room, muttering his thanks, she hated the fact that even among the people she cared for the most she had to hide behind ornate dresses and stiff smiles. Seven years ago, when she had shut her eyes against the brutal murder of her father, shaking in horror at each agonizing cry, she had decided that she hated Dravia for taking her father, but it would never take her soul.

  Once Bertrand left, Shadaya sat down on the sofa Reeva had just vacated with a sigh. Pit bounded up beside her and laid his head on her lap. He had always had a way of knowing how she felt and trying in his own way to bring her comfort. She patted his head absently. Try as she could she could not push the events of the past few weeks to the recesses of her mind, would her father be saddened? He had worked so hard to ensure that she did not get lost in the darkness of this kingdom, even if it meant he had to wade chin deep in it, but he had also equipped her to do what she did tonight.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes, she could still see him calling to her, his wrist bound before him, his eyes wide with fear for her. It was death by the cuts of a blade; fifty well placed cuts to cause the most pain, while enduring a prolonged death.

  "Close your eyes Shadaya!"

  And she had tried, she really had, she had turned her eyes from what was happening in the shadows and dark alleys of this kingdom and tried to bring light where she could. But after years of feeling like it wasn’t enough, she had finally stepped into what felt right… but she found it hard to stomach the thought that she may have taken a man’s life. Henry would not be pleased.

  "Mi lady?"

  Shadaya sat up suddenly, "what is it Eunice?"

  "Sorry to wake you dear. Will you be returning to bed, or shall I prepare first meal?"

  Shadaya ran her hand down the length of her face, "the sun will be up soon, the day has already begun."

  Eunice smiled reminiscently, "just like your father used to say."

  Shadaya managed a small smile, "yes," she replied, "I will have first meal on the back porch today. I do love to watch the Fidillies open with the morning sun."

  Eunice smiled and bowed slightly, "yes madam."

  "Eunice there is no one around, no need to be so formal."

  The house servant chuckled, her plump cheeks flushing pink, "apologies dear. But we must remember you are the lady of the manor now."

  Shadaya sighed, "Aye, yet I still do not feel like it. We both know no one else but you will ever see me as such."

  Eunice sighed, "you have always been the lady of this manor and now you are rightly so. Until then I will boldly share my thoughts on your floundering love life..."

  Shadaya groaned.

  Eunice continued, "starting with this gentleman's calling card."

  She plucked a card from her apron pocket and waved it at Shadaya with a mischievous grin, "shall I toss it in with the others?"

  Shadaya's eyes caught the family crest as Eunice waved it and she rolled her eyes, "please do Eunice."

  Eunice grinned, "this one is rather persistent, maybe you should give him a chance."

  "If persistence was all that moved me, I would be directing stage plays with mother and married off to Eril Hatherbee. Besides father in his wisdom set things up so that I would not need to marry to claim the estate. Once I settled in fully, we can talk about stopping callers at the gate!"

  Eunice laughed, "yes indeed! First meal will be ready shortly," with that she bowed out of the room.

  Shadaya sighed again, she could not think about the long line of suitors clamoring to be invited to the manor. It had only been two weeks since her twentieth birthday, now she would no longer have to go through estate managers to make decisions. She still retained her father’s old advisor as her own, she was not going to fool herself into believing
she could do it all alone. Of course, there were many who thought they were best suited to help her manage her father's estate, given the absence of a male heir, she lifted her chin a bit at the thought. However, her father did not think so himself and before he died had set up his will to work in Shadaya’s favor. That way, if she chose to never marry, once she turned twenty the estate was hers. It was unheard of in Dravia, but it was her father’s will. She knew there were many still trying to wrestle the Quadin estate from her, but for now, she had much more serious matters to think about. One of which included a bloody dress in the bottom drawer of her armoire.

  CHAPTER 2

  He stomped along the dimly lit hallways of the barracks, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword as if he anticipated an attacker materializing from the very walls. The castle had always been a dark place, that even a hardened man like him felt uneasy walking it’s dark hallways. Now that the king was dead, his insolent son was prancing around the castle as if someone died and left him the throne. He wished that Drayton had selected him to join his company, rather than leave him here to baby sit his troublesome younger brother. He could not wait for Drayton to return and take his place, until then, it was up to him to keep things together in this kingdom.

  "Captain."

  The guard at the entrance stood at attention at his approach. He could hear the agonized wailing before he stepped into the room. Lying on the healer's table was one of his best men, he had served the throne for years under his leadership, loyal and strong but not the brightest of the bunch.

  He walked over to the scene and immediately those who surrounded him stepped back, even the healer's hurried movements stilled. His eyes perused the damage, as he curled his lips in disgust.

  "Who did this?" he asked.

  "We do not know sire," the soldier next to him stammered, "We were attacked, somehow the girls got loose. He went into an alley after three runners, I found him... like this."

  "Leave us," without a word his men stepped out of the room, leaving the healer frozen at his side.

  He turned his steely gaze upon him, "I said leave us!"

  The man nodded nervously and shuffled out of the room as the captain took his place next to the bloody soldier, whose cries had subsided into groans.

  "What happened?" he asked.

  The man coughed and his hand shifted from his abdomen, causing a fresh flow of blood to stain his fingers through the bandage. Besides the wound, which was the worst of it, the man was covered in blue-black bruises, and cuts along his face.

  "Did not... get a good look... so fast," he sputtered through bloody lips, "used my own sword," he was shaking his head, "It was the … Shadow, he’s real and I think he wanted this."

  The soldier lifted his free hand and slowly waved a ringed finger at him, it was a large gold ring with a family crest etched onto the face. A crest he knew, he clenched his jaw and yanked the ring from the soldier's finger.

  "Where did you get this?"

  The man moaned, "execution... years ago... the owner did not have further use... for it," he said, trying to make light of his dire situation.

  The captain sighed as he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal, he reached for a knife from the healer's instruments and leaned over the ashen faced man.

  "You need your rest soldier, you served your kingdom well."

  The soldier nodded, the fear in his eyes almost brimming over into tears, strengthening his resolve for what he was about to do. The man was weak, a simple task of capturing some peasant girls for the prince and he returned like a wounded hound, weeping for his life.

  "Rest well," he whispered as he plunged the knife into the bleeding wound, he watched as the light dimmed from the soldier's widened eyes, before withdrawing the blade.

  As he wiped the evidence of his act on the soldier's tunic, he ran his finger along the engraving on the ring, he knew it like it was his own; the Quadin family crest. Concern pooled in the pit of his stomach, had Mervin somehow found a way to haunt him from the grave.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  "Having first meal without me as usual!"

  Shadaya looked up from her lifted tea cup as her mother stepped down onto the back porch with all the dramatic flair that was Lidelia Quadin. She was dressed in a rich yellow dress with her corset on so tight her bosom almost spilled out of her neckline, as though the sapphire necklace she wore was not enough of a distraction. It was hardly first meal attire, but Lidelia's entire life was a stage play, the death of her husband being the ultimate tragedy that she still dredged up for emotional effect.

  "You know how I like to watch the sunrise… and Pit chase his tail."

  She giggled at the sight of her seven-year-old grey hound, spinning around in circles in the front lawn and growling excitedly.

  Lidelia flapped her napkin open with a pout, "yes well you shall be so hungry before brunch you will probably eat out of those peasants goodie bags you go out delivering… or chase your tail like your dog."

  Shadaya lowered her teacup, maintaining an unperturbed expression. She turned and looked out at the Fidillies she loved so much and often tended herself when she needed to think. Her mother was a dramatist who thrived on the emotional responses she stirred with her words. Nothing ever left her lips unintentionally, Shadaya had learned that a long time ago. Her preferred stoicism had translated well into other areas of her life, particularly when it came to matters of her family estate. Every nobleman and their son thought she needed the presence of a man to help her ‘manage’ her family’s hard-earned estate. A woman in her position was always attracting the attention of spineless greedy men, who had nothing but their names and a sustainable wardrobe to help look the part. She on the other hand wanted no part, she did not need a man to help her spend her money. She was perfectly capable without them and could find better ways to put it to use.

  "Someone has to look out for the poor, mother. Father always said that."

  Her mother grunted over the scrapping sound of buttering her toast.

  "Maybe in another kingdom dear. Dravia as you know is a ruthless place, here looking out for others costs you nothing but grief. Especially if you keep going to that rebel town. You will see soon enough. Prince Haddin is going to start to squeeze those rebels pretty soon."

  Shadaya turned to look at her sharply, clenching her jaw in annoyance, but her mother was focused on her meal. She hated that name, after helping the rebels rescue the precious Aldorian princess from the castle, Shadaya was sure the prince was responsible for his own father’s death.

  "Figgard was telling me one of our servants got attacked last night," said her mother between chews.

  Shadaya closed her eyes briefly, silently cursing the doorman and his love for gossip, before replying.

  "Yes, Reeva and a few others almost got picked for the selection."

  Lidelia coughed, "well... I would hardly call that an attack! Selection is a wonderful opportunity for peasants like Reeva."

  Shadaya glared at her mother, "mother how could you say such a thing!"

  "Oh, get down from your high horse lady Shadaya, maybe then you will see that there is no up from where these girls stand. Selection provides an opportunity that these girls will never have otherwise. And Dravia gets to please the gods, its win-win."

  "To be auctioned off, sent off into distant lands to be slaves to depraved men, not to mention that ceremony, those rituals concocted by vile and filthy men, they prey on these poor innocent girls in the name of…"

  "Innocent?" her mother guffawed, "peasants you speak of dear. You look into their world from where you sit in luxury and excess, protected by the gates. You do not see what happens in the peasant's village," she shook her head, "innocent, ha!"

  “If you ask me, some of them fare better with selection than remaining here. Some end up with rich masters, with servants of their own. I have heard of many who live comfortably as a result. Do your research before you get all high and mighty.”

  Shadaya shook h
er head, her mother's indifference was making her blood boil, "what about those who aren’t good enough, those who are disposed of on our altars, in the name of balance.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes, “be careful that you don’t speak like that among your own. You don’t know what will happen if we stop the sacrifices.”

  The Selection was only one of Dravia’s few justified sacrifices. What it required was the general willingness to give up the daughters of Dravia for the sake of favor from the gods. But unfortunately, only the poor ever made the sacrifice.

  “How easy it is for us to justify injustice when we are the ones being served by it!" she hissed, rising to her feet with a calm she did not feel.

  "I am leaving. This estate won’t run itself."

  Her mother glanced up at her with eyes so much like her own, but her sky-blue depths were tainted with the cost of being Dravian nobility. Shadaya’s father had warned her not to let it change her, like it had changed her mother. He had always believed that you could see the darkness through the eyes and that it was one of the its major entry ways. This was the reason he had taught her to always look her opponent in the eyes, to know what they were made of.

  "Will you be dropping by the theatre?"

  Shadaya sighed, her old friend Henry was the only reason she would ever drop by that theatre. He was the one who had given her the potion she now used whenever she went out at night, he had also crafted her mask. He was the only person she trusted with her secret. He had grown up in the school of sorcerers and would have earned a great fortune serving the throne, but he had decided that he preferred the arts. They had become friends from her visits with her mother when she was a child. Though there had been some tension between him and her father, Henry had been instrumental in helping her work through the grief of losing him. Since then Shadaya had visited Henry often, debating matters of justice and loyalty, getting orders and plotting to change the world. But she had been avoiding him, since the Aldorian’s rescued their princess.

  "I hope to stop by, but there is much to be done.

 

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