Page 1 of Blood Weaver
1
The fragrant aroma of brewing tea filled the air, intermingled with soft notes of cinnamon and jasmine. A delicate dance of light and shadow played through the intricate wooden lattices, making the polished mahogany tables gleam. Soft murmurs and chuckles filled the Tea House, setting a backdrop for the storyteller on the main floor. He was in the midst of a gripping tale, his voice rising and falling in a melodious cadence that captivated the crowd.
Suddenly, he was interrupted by the shrill voice of a young boy. “The lost princess has been found! The lost princess has been found!” The boy, Henry, no older than eight, stood out among the patrons. His sun-kissed skin was smeared with the dust and sweat of a hard day's work. His hair, the color of rich cocoa, was tousled and streaked with sweat. His eyes, big and almond-shaped, sparkled with mischief and enthusiasm. They reflected the innocence of his age, yet held the weight of the important news he carried.
As he wound through the Tea House, weaving in and out of the crowd, the light fabrics of his loosely draped clothing fluttered about him. His worn-out sandals slapped the woodenfloors, creating a staccato rhythm that drew more and more attention. The storyteller's tale was all but forgotten as gasps and murmurs filled the space.
I watched from the top floor as the young boy continued his animated proclamation, heading straight toward my table. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I discreetly flashed a shiny gold coin between my fingers to catch his attention.
When he finally reached me, his cheeks were flushed and his breathing was heavy. “Yes, Miss Leila?” he managed to pant.
“The lost princess …” I started. “Where was she found?”
The young boy cleared his throat, clearly parched. I slid a cup of tea in his direction, which he accepted graciously.
“In the Grasslands,” he said, catching his breath.
I raised a brow in surprise. “Is that so?” I murmured. “And who found the lost princess?”
“The Crimson Clan!” he offered animatedly. “They’re holding her hostage. If the King and Queen of Valoria don’t meet their demands, they’re going to marry her off to the clan chief’s son.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Me? Marry the chief’s son? In their dreams. After all these years I’d hidden undetected, I wondered who the Crimson Clan actually captured.
“Do you know what their demands are?” I asked once I regained my composure.
He shook his head. “No, but they sent an envoy to Valoria with the terms.”
“Very well.” I tossed the gold in his direction. Henry caught the coin with ease, his eyes widening in surprise. Before I could change my mind, the boy, now richer by a gold coin, sprinted away, his joyous shouts continuing to echo in the Tea House.
My spirits took a nosedive with the sudden news, making the heady atmosphere of the Tea House suffocating. I swiftly made my way downstairs, hoping some fresh air would clear my mind. But just as I stepped onto the street, Selene, in a blur of motion,was already rushing toward me. We almost collided, saved only by my quick reflexes.
“Whoa, slow down there. Is the Rose Petal on fire?” I teased, my hands steadying her by the shoulders.
She took a moment to catch her breath, her relief palpable. “By the gods, you're safe!” she breathed out, pulling me into a heartfelt embrace.
I laughed again. “I’m guessing you heard the news.”
She pulled back. “Of course I heard! Everyone in the Central Plains has heard.” Selene looked both ways around the street before she whispered, “I really thought they had captured you this time.”
I scoffed. “I’ve been hiding in the Central Plains almost five years, and I’ve been gone for ten. No one knows where I am or if I still breathe. Whatever the Crimson Clan is planning, it’s most definitely a bluff.”
“Are you sure? Don’t be so confident, Leila.”
“Positive.” I smiled brightly. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the Rose Petal.”
We walked side by side, arm in arm, down Lomewood's cobbled streets. Selene drew many admiring glances from passersby, and it wasn’t hard to see why. With her statuesque figure, her skin a shade of deep olive and her raven-black hair flowing like an inky river down her back, she was dazzling. Her vibrant green eyes mirrored the deep forests of Valoria, always searching, always seeing beyond the surface. The silver adornments on her fingers and wrists added a touch of opulence to her otherwise muted attire.
But her captivating beauty was both a gift and a curse. Sold into servitude by her own father to a pleasure house, she’d been striving to reclaim her freedom for years.
Selene leaned in closer to whisper, “The Crimson Clan will arrive in the Central Plains tonight.”
I raised a brow. “And you know this how?”
“Madam Rose is prepping all the girls for their arrival.”
I clenched my jaw at the mere mention of the madam. That cunning woman had rejected every single one of my offers to free Selene. Due to Selene's rare merfolk heritage, Madam Rose set her price exorbitantly high, keeping Selene's freedom just out of grasp.
“If they start trouble, you know what to do,” I began, my tone cautionary.
