Page 10 of Vathia
The door silently opens and Milly, our family’s brownie, comes in with a towel and clothes slung over her shoulder, pulling a bucket that’s almost the same size as her filled with soapy water.
“Lord Talyn,” she mutters in horror, taking in the state of me. “Lord Craven wishes for me to clean you up. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, my Lord.”
The sight of her brings a small smile to my face. “Oh come on Milly, you know you don’t need to apologize for this. It’s myhonor to do this for my father.” The words taste like acid on my tongue.
She shakes her head, making her large ears bounce. “May I speak freely?” she asks quietly.
“You know you never have to ask that. You’ve known me since I was a fledgling. Come on now, what is it?” Milly has always been the one to care for me after the beatings I would receive—or any other punishment. Along with the males I call brothers and my sister, I’ve always considered her family.
She comes close, peering at me with her overly large eyes. “I know where he keeps the key. I can’t see you be put through this tainted engagement. The only thing is, I won’t be able to get it until he leaves for Mehnar tomorrow afternoon.”
Relief clashes through me, but it’s short-lived. I still need to get through tonight.
“Thank you. I would greatly appreciate the help,” I whisper back with a small, shaky grin on my face.
She nods, giving me a worried look, but doesn’t say anything more as she proceeds to try to wash me down. The iron restraints make it hard, causing me to hiss in pain and her to apologize frantically with each swipe.
As she raises my shirt, her gaze widens as she stares at the mark on my stomach. “Lord Talyn—”
“You can’t say anything,” I whispered quickly, my eyes darting towards the door and back. If my father discovered the mark and knew what it was… Well I don’t want to know what he would do. He’s another reason why she wouldn’t be safe with me. Until he’s been forced to leave this realm, anyone I care about is in danger.
She quickly wipes me down and pulls my tunic down, hiding the faded mark. “Of course, but if he finds out…”
“I know. Now you best hurry. You know if you’re seen when he makes his way back, it won’t be good for either of us.”I give her a stern look with none of the harshness I usually give others.
Milly dips her head and swiftly finishes, giving me one last look and leaving the room. My head rests back on the pillow. I just need to get through until tomorrow when she can get these cuffs off of me. Then I’ll get to Vathia. It’s time to come up with a new plan of action.
SLEEP MUST HAVE overcome me at some point, because when I awaken, I notice that outside has darkened and thousands of tiny stars dance in the sky, taunting me with their freedom. I’m not sure how long it’s been, but it can’t be much longer until this fates-damned cursed ceremony is to begin. I glance around my old rooms—it’s just as I remember. Bare, and the few weapons I did have laying around have been removed. The distrust my father has for me is obvious, although whatever gave him that notion is beyond me, as I’ve played my part well. At least I’m almost positive I did.
I reach for the depths of my magick again, but to no avail; the cuffs are doing their job well.
There’s one benefit to being a prisoner: you have lots of time to think. To plan. To master all of the ways you’ll make your enemies pay for their crimes.
The door slams open and my father, Lady Gannon’s father, a Templar Reverend, Lady Gannon herself and two of her lady’s maids all come striding into the room. It sounds like a bad joke. One you’d hear in a living nightmare.
Evera spins towards her father, her poofy white dress swishing around her as she crosses her arms. “Why is he tieddown like livestock?” she snaps. “I want to wed my mate, not force him to be enslaved to me.”
“This is the way it must be. Take it or leave it,” Lord Craven says as if he’s bored of the female’s antics already. “You are here to produce an heir and thus to keep an agreement. If this isn’t to your satisfaction, I’m sure there are others who would be more than eager for this opportunity.”
“Now, now. Let’s not be hasty,” Sir Gannon says. “We have a deal, Craven. And it would be wise for you to stick to said arrangement, if you don’t want your little secret getting out.”
What secret wouldn’t my father want revealed that this male has been holding it over his head? Clearly my father is getting something out of this too, and I’ve been left in the dark about the truth behind this forced mating.
My father’s face darkens with rage but he nods his head, gesturing towards the Templar priest. “Reverend, if you will proceed before the night is over.”
The male dips his head, glancing nervously around the room. “We are gathered here today—”
“Best we skip the theatrics, yes?” Lord Craven snaps. “Just bind them together and let’s be done with this. I have better things to do.”
He dips his head, swallowing. “Lady Gannon, if you would please step over here,” the male mumbles nervously, his eyes darting between the other males, Evera and the iron while avoiding my narrowed gaze.
“I need your permission to cut into the meat of your palm for the joining tonic.” He pulls out a silver chalice and she nods excitedly. I can’t help but watch in morbid fascination as he slices open her palm, and thick red blood pours into it before he offers her a wrap to staunch the flow. The Reverend turns towards me to do the same but doesn’t ask me permission. Theurge to fight him off and escape is getting harder and harder to push down.
I haven’t experienced this kind of fear since we found out Maeven was killed during the attack on her family all those years ago. “No. I don’t give you permission. Stop. I will not mate this female,” I state loudly, narrowing my eyes at my father. Let him kill me—it’s better than being tied down like a prized hog for the town fair.
The Reverend stops and looks towards my father.
“Don’t listen to him. It’s cold feet.”
