Page 9 of Between Wrath and Mercy

As I eased closer to Ravemont, my breath caught. I took in the limestone facade, a beautiful tan color, and saw it hadn’t changed at all. In fact, it looked like it had been recently painted, though it was hard to tell in the dark, the crescent moon doing little to illuminate the grounds. The climbing hydrangeas were no longer blooming during this season but had spread to take up more space on the front of the estate, spreading from one end to the other. The east and west wing both jutted forward from the front entry, a fountain in the middle. In the center of the water fixture sat a little girl blowing on a dandelion, but instead of air coming out of her mouth, it was water. Small hedges surrounded the fountain, creating paths that meandered around it. I’d played tag in those hedge paths with Lucia more times than I could count, running through them until eventually, we were tall enough to jump over them. The game wasn’t as fun once we were grown.

The servants were closing all the windows, and I could see white gauzy curtains inside blowing with the breeze. The giant oak tree Lucia and I used to swing from was still present in front of the east wing. Our rooms had been on that side of the estate. We’d watched out our windows to see the squirrels and birds call the oak tree their home.

I wished Elora was here for this. My return to Ravemont was supposed to be triumphant. In my head, I had imagined coming home with her, finally able to live without the fear of tragedy. I wasn’t sure how my imagination had hoped to accomplish this feat, but that didn’t stop me from hoping and wishing. I felt the threat of tears at my lashes, and I focused my attention on stopping it from happening. If I started, I would never stop. I would be useless to Elora.

I directed Bree straight to the front entry. There would be a servant there who I could ask to take her to the stables. I navigated us past the fountain and stopped right in front of the steps leading to the place and people I used to call home. Dismounting my mare, I took a deep breath in. Nothing was going to stop me, and yet all I felt was nerves as I stood in the footprint of the immense building in which I’d grown up.

As I started going up the stairs, the door creaked open before me. I looked up, only able to see the silhouette of a person in front of the well-lit entry.

“Mistress Emmeline?” Mr. Carson had been the butler since I was a baby, and I was shocked he still held the job. I took a few steps up so the light behind him wasn’t blinding me, and I could make out his aged face. He regarded me in confusion, with the hint of a smile on his lips. I gestured out the door to Bree behind me.

“Can you see to my horse? Please make sure they’re extra sweet to her.”

I pushed past him, watching the competing questions he wanted to ask lose steam as he glanced between me and my mare, his facial expression one of exasperation. I marched inside, not caring that I was dripping all over the entryway tile, as I headed toward the back of the estate where my father entertained, hoping they were all still awake. I yelped as I ran square into a squat woman, soft and warm, and nearly knocked her over.

Nana tottered, and I grabbed her elbow. She gaped at me like she’d seen a ghost, not the child she’d been a nurse, confidante, and teacher to.

“Mistress Emmeline! You’re bleed—”

I gently moved past her. I’d have time to speak to her later. As I crossed the dark oak floors which ran from east to west, I scanned my surroundings, hoping not to run face-first into any of the servants who were surely bustling throughout the house due to the Crown’s visit. But when I took in the person standing to my left, my steps faltered.

“Emma?”

Lavenia looked exactly the same. Slim and wiry, she still had the same long black hair, currently plaited into tight braids falling down her back, and that same golden-brown skin, a shade darker than her brother’s. Her eyes were a deep brown, so dark they were almost black. So different from Rainier’s eyes. She didn’t look much older than the last time I’d seen her. Had she performed the ritual? The princess I once knew always had a grin and a joke waiting, but the woman looking back at me had her mouth slightly open, standing frozen, almost as if she was stuck to the spot she stood. She stared at me in confusion and what seemed like something else. Anguish, perhaps. I dipped my head but didn’t have the words, the sense of urgency flowing through me. I turned back to the doors of the audience room and made my way the final few steps, feeling Lavenia turn to follow behind me. I gained momentum and slammed the doors open. A hush fell over the room as I locked eyes with my father. He was seated on a small sofa, surrounded by people I didn’t know or hadn’t seen in years.

“They have her, Papa.” His head tilted in confusion.

“Who?” I wondered if it was shock making him struggle or something worse. He should have known who I meant.

“Elora. The Folterrans have Elora.”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me, and no one uttered a single sound. Father’s lips started to move, but he was unable to follow through with any words. I scanned the room, noticing it was mostly untouched since the time I’d lived there—the dark grey-green wainscotting and cream walls above it, stamped with a tiny floral pattern, looked exactly the same. Even the cream-colored rug which sat in the middle of the room was unchanged, and I couldn’t help but notice the dark spot where Lucia had once spilled a glass of juice. My eyes found Dewalt, the prince’s second. He stared at me in shock and something verging on horror. He appeared the same as I remembered, as if he’d barely aged a day. I couldn’t see a single wrinkle on his face. His long, jet hair was tied behind him, without a hint of grey. Had he performed the ritual too? After a long moment, he broke the trance within the room.

“Emma? Is that . . . Where have you—” he stammered as he rose to his feet, and I saw his fist clench and unclench a few times.

“Darling, what do you mean Elora has been—” My father tried to rise from his seat beside Dewalt, clearly confused.

“Where is he?” My voice was more of a demand than it should have been, considering what I was asking. It came out much louder than intended as well. The room was large, causing my breaking voice to boom. The light blue curtains which hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows did little to help muffle the sound. The room was too silent, the stress too vast, and I started to tap my foot. I was coming undone.

“He’ll be back.” Thankfully, Dewalt knew what I meant and didn’t scold me for my delivery. His eyes watched me with caution as he looked at me from across the room, something about it unsettling. He’d filled out. He was still tall and lean, taller than Rainier ever was, but he had muscle to go with it now and a fair amount of it. His laugh lines were still there, and I realized that was what unsettled me—the absence of his smile. I’d rarely seen him without one.

“What’s going on, Emmeline?” My father was sitting on the edge of his seat, giving up on jumping to his feet, but his face was a mask of concern. He was seated on the button-tufted sofa before the fire, the wooden frame still bearing the scratch marks from the winter Lucia and I had snuck one of the stable-cats inside. With Dewalt seated on one side and a younger woman I didn’t recognize on the other, my father looked older than I’d ever seen him. By the familiar way the woman had her hand placed on my father’s shoulder, I assumed there were things Father had kept from me during our monthly meetings.

I took in the room once more to determine what information I could share. One of the older servants, Miss Suzy, was in the back of the room with her hand over her mouth. She knew of Elora and what it meant for her to be taken. I checked behind me to see Lavenia and Nana had followed me into the room. I started to wonder if I made the wrong choice, that I’d wasted time by coming here and not going straight to Mira. I started to lose control of my emotions and felt the fear rise in my throat. As if sensing what was coming, Lavenia grabbed me by the hand, which I just noticed had begun to shake.

“Emma…Emmeline. Let’s sit you down.” She gently pulled me toward a wing-backed chair across from the sofa on which my father still sat. I was grateful she took control of the situation. My father clearly wasn’t in any state to handle it, and I barely was myself. Lavenia sat down on the matching ottoman situated at my feet and watched me, never letting go of my hand. Kindness and concern were all I saw in her charcoal eyes. I didn’t see a hint of resentment from the woman I’d once called friend. I took a deep breath and began to explain.

“My daughter. Elora. She—” I hesitated. Everyone in the room, save for possibly the woman sitting next to my father, knew Lucia was the supposed Beloved all those years ago. What some of them didn’t know was that Elora even existed, let alone we suspected she was the Beloved. Those in the prince’s court didn’t know the true reason why I hid away. I leveled my gaze on the woman sitting next to my father.

“Would you please give us a word in private?” I asked in as even and measured of a tone as possible. The woman glanced between me and my father before nodding. As she rose, Father stopped her.

“Emmeline, she can stay. Gemma knows everything.” I stared at my father. He had chosen to reveal the truth about my daughter to a woman I’d never met? Now was not the time for me to deal with it. I narrowed my eyes at them both before I pushed my frustration down. I needed to focus my energy on getting through to arguably the two most powerful people nearby, after the prince, wherever he was.

“Elora is my daughter. She’s like Lucia.” I watched Lavenia, dreading the recognition in her eyes. Lucia had been hunted for what she was. Understanding and sadness looked back at me as my old friend’s gaze met mine. “They were attacked on the Mirastos Path, a days’ ride north of Mira. Elora and my husband were taken. Two men came back to the house to… I don’t know, kill me, I guess.”

“That was their last mistake, I presume?” Lavenia looked so much like her brother as her mouth twitched. I didn’t reply as I watched her eyes flit up to the side of my head where I’d been hit. I realized with a start that because of the rain and the fact that it was still bleeding when I left, I probably had blood all over my face. I ignored it.

“I found our farmhand nearly beaten to death afterward. The men had brought him back, used him to find our house. He told me what happened, and he thinks they are taking them to a ship. I came straight here. I knew Rain . . . Prince Rainier was supposed to be here, and I thought, well, I didn’t know what to do and—” I felt the tears welling up and was grateful for Lavenia’s interruption.

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