Page 4

Chapter

Three

L essia shivered when the wind tore through her coat as they walked the winding path back to their home. Her friends giggled and gossiped beside her, and the drunken soldiers joined them, laughing and boasting about their adventures at sea.

Slinging an arm around her shoulders, Ardow tugged her close to his massive body to shield her from the icy gusts of snow that swirled around them.

The cliffs that Asker was built upon did little to shelter the town from the ocean breeze, which in summer was well needed but in the deepest winter caused ice to slither up the stone buildings lining the road, making the stone town seem as if it were made of crystal.

Ahead towered the white castle that once housed the monarchs of Ellow. Warm light flickered out of the many windows lining the tall walls, and soft music reached her ears over the wind.

The regent must be hosting some type of festivities .

She’d never been inside the castle, had never been invited when other merchants met to mingle there.

It wasn’t too surprising. After all, she owned only a few rowdy taverns and the odd gambling room and had a bit of a reputation for being senseless and flighty.

Ardow squeezed her shoulders when they neared the metal double doors to the old warehouse they lived in.

It was abandoned when Lessia found it, and she’d acquired it for a bargain from a desperate merchant who was shutting down his business.

With Amalise’s and Ardow’s help, she’d turned it into a home over the years.

“I’m heading to the office quickly.” Lessia slipped out of his embrace. “Keep them busy, will you?”

She flicked her eyes to Amalise and the two other women they typically spent their evenings with—Soria and Pellie—and the seven soldiers they’d dragged home, including the dark-haired one Amalise had spoken to all night.

Ardow nodded, but when he guided the rest left, up a spiraling staircase—toward the only room they allowed outsiders—Amalise doubled back, patting Ardow on the shoulder as she passed him.

Lessia arched a brow. “Have you tired of the soldier already?”

It wouldn’t be the first time. Amalise loved to flirt, but no man stayed around for long. And even though Lessia teased her about it, her heart tugged when her friend grinned at her.

Amalise had lost her first and only love when she was eighteen. Six years ago, he’d gone out with a boat, working as a fisherman, as most men in Ellow who weren’t nobles did, and after they’d been caught in a surprise storm, the only thing that returned was shards of wood crashing onto the beach .

Amalise had told her one night when they’d both drunk too much wine.

It was the only time Lessia had ever seen her cry.

Her eyes burned at the memory. Seeing Amalise so vulnerable had made Lessia share her own worst memory, one that hurt more than all the years she’d spent imprisoned. One that forever would taint any good memory she carried from her childhood.

One that still haunted her dreams.

“Where did you go just there?” Amalise’s grin faltered, her eyes filling with worry as she placed a hand on Lessia’s shoulder.

Lessia shook her head, pushing the laughing girl’s face out of her mind. “Nowhere good.” She tried to smile, but it ended up more of a grimace. “I’m heading to the office. You coming?”

Amalise nodded, and they shifted a large shelf blocking the hidden door to the right side of the warehouse.

As they opened the door and slipped in, muffled sounds filled the air around them: hushed voices and soft footsteps echoing through the large room before them, bouncing off the shiny, arched ceiling.

Lessia glanced at Amalise, and they both rolled their eyes at the same time.

“I guess it is too much to ask that they follow curfew.” Lessia grinned.

When a head popped through one of the ajar doors lining the wall to the left, dark eyes widening and quickly disappearing, and a soft knock sounded on one of the walls separating the twelve bedrooms, everything fell silent.

Lessia couldn’t stop a small giggle from escaping, and after one look at Amalise, they both erupted in laughter .

“We know you’re awake. Come out,” Lessia managed to get out in between fits of giggles.

Door after door opened and faces peered into the softly lit hallway, the firelight from the lanterns placed every few feet along the walls reflecting in their wide eyes.

Warmth spread in her chest when hesitant smiles lit some of the younger ones’ features, and when Fiona, one of the youngest additions, squealed and ran for them, Lessia let the warmth fill her entirely, shrugging off the last remnants of haunting memories.

She opened her arms and lifted Fiona up, hugging her tight. “You been up to no good, little one?” she whispered before setting her down.

Fiona looked up at her, eyes rounded and feet planted firmly as she mock-glared back. “Always.”

Lessia grinned at her while tucking a strand of dark hair behind Fiona’s delicately pointed ear, careful not to touch the wide scar weaving up her neck. “Good, I’d hate for it to get boring around here.”

Turning to the rest of the children, she searched for a new face, as another one should have arrived this morning. When she came up blank, she frowned and turned to Kalia, the oldest and the first child she’d ever offered a room here.

Now twenty-one, Kalia ran this place, and Lessia couldn’t be more grateful for her help. Kalia was a kind soul, and most of the children trusted her immediately, making their transition and Lessia’s life easier.

She’d met Kalia when they both were living on the streets of Vastala, and Lessia hadn’t forgotten how the girl risked her life when King Rioner’s men came for her.

Even if her efforts were in vain, as soon as Lessia got out and was settled here, she’d sent one of the men now in her employ back to Vastala to find her .

Kalia had been living here ever since.

“He’s not doing too well,” Kalia said softly, ripping Lessia from her thoughts.

She gestured for Lessia to follow as she started walking toward the farthest bedroom.

Glancing at Amalise, who nodded and began shuffling the rest of them to bed, Lessia followed. Unease roiled in her gut as Kalia pushed the door open, and a small body lay curled up on the bed, facing the wall.

The boy was skin and bones, the clothes Kalia must have offered him hanging off his skinny shoulders. He didn’t react when they entered, his eyes vacantly staring into the white wall beside his bed.

Even if he looked and smelled clean, his raven hair was matted, falling far past his shoulders, indicating how long he’d roamed the streets of Vastala.

Too long.

Lessia sat down on the creaking mattress and lit the lantern beside the bed, nodding for Kalia to leave them, her eyes sweeping the bedroom as Kalia quietly left.

The room wasn’t much, but it was clean.

There were two beds, one still empty—the boy he would share this room with hovering outside to offer them privacy—and two small desks, each with its own chair.

A worn rug covered the floor, and by the ends of the beds stood two small cabinets to store any belongings they might have.

Not that this boy would have had much to bring with him, based on the state they’d found him in.

Her nostrils flared as she thought of the reason he’d been living on the streets. While the humans had learned something after the devastating war a century ago and finally treated most members of their society decently, the Fae hadn’t evolved at all .

King Rioner’s family still ruled the kingdom with an iron fist—as it had for millennia. The nobles and wealthy merchants were the only ones living comfortably, and the rest were left to fend for themselves as best they could.

And half-Fae…

Well, Lessia definitely preferred it here in Ellow. Even if humans didn’t particularly care for them and often looked down upon them, they at least didn’t leave half-dead children in the streets.

When the boy shifted, Lessia realized she was gripping the blanket beneath him so tightly she’d nearly pulled it—and him—off the bed. Drawing a breath to calm herself, she released her hold and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

He didn’t react—didn’t shy away from her touch—but didn’t lean into it either.

It was as if she weren’t even here.

“I know what you’re going through,” she said softly. “I lived on the streets of Vastala before I came here as well.”

A chill raced down her spine as memories from her time on the streets flashed before her eyes.

She’d been so consumed by guilt when she’d fled her family home that she hadn’t dared use her magic for years.

Instead, she’d done what the older half-Fae did—looked for scraps outside taverns, begged on corners, and tried to stay far away from King Rioner’s sentries.

The sentries liked to terrorize them, and while they weren’t allowed to kill without reason, when they grew bored as they marched through the usually quiet streets, they had no qualms about pitting half-Fae children against each other for food, clothing, or even blankets.

The boy’s eyelids creased ever so slightly, so Lessia forced herself to continue.

“I know the horrors you went through, but I promise you, you’re safe now.

It will be overwhelming, and humans can be strange sometimes, but you’re safe here.

We’ll protect you, keep you warm and fed, and when the time comes, if you want to leave, we will help you find work, help you build a life. ”

She held her breath as the boy moved to lie on his back, his light gray eyes shifting between hers. When he remained quiet, she gently squeezed his shoulder. “Will you tell me your name?”

Silver filled his cloudy eyes, and he put a thin arm over his face. “I don’t remember.”

Biting her cheek to stop the choked sound traveling up her throat, Lessia nodded. “That’s all right. You’re starting a new life. It seems only fitting you should choose a new name as well. Many of the others have. Is there a name you like?”

He peeked at her, his arm still covering part of his face. “Ledger.”

Lessia smiled at him. “Ledger. That’s a pretty name. I think it fits you perfectly.”

It truly did.

Like all half-Fae, he was beautiful. Even with the matted hair and the hollowness of his face, it was clear he’d grow into a handsome man. Perhaps not with the lethal beauty of the full Fae, but a more human beauty—a softer one.

“It was my friend’s name.” A sob racked Ledger’s small body, and Lessia clutched the blanket again.

“He must have been a good friend,” she got out, trying to draw a breath as a red haze filled her vision.

“He died. They killed him for stealing food for us. Why did they do that?” Ledger covered his face with his hands as more violent sobs shook his frame.

Her magic thrummed under her skin as she placed a hand on his back, and for a moment Lessia thought about removing his pain .

Within seconds she could make him forget about the friend—forget all about the life he’d been forced to lead.

Shaking her head, she forced the urge down.

She’d removed memories once…

After that day she’d promised herself never to do it again.

She couldn’t undo what she’d done—would never return to the home where she’d lived the first twelve years of her life.

But taking something so big away, the love he clearly harbored for the friend, was selfish—a quick solution that still wouldn’t erase the traumatic events that colored the first years of his life.

Stroking the boy’s arm, she responded quietly, “They don’t know any better. They’ve been taught we’re tainted, that we’re diluting the Fae blood. But do you know what I think?”

Hands still pressed to his face, he shook his head, the bed shifting with the movement.

“I think they’re also scared of us.”

Ledger hiccuped, but a sliver of gray peeked through his fingers. “W-why would they be scared of us?”

She sighed. “Because we’re different. The human in us makes us more open, more understanding of how the world is changing.

Ellow might have a ways to go, but it’s better here.

And it will continue to get better. Vastala hasn’t changed their ways in millennia, and perhaps they never will.

Not unless there is a shift. I think the king is worried that if we grow to large enough numbers, that’s exactly what might happen. ”

Ledger hiccuped again, and while he didn’t respond, the tremors running through him came further and further apart. Lessia continued stroking his arm until his coiled muscles loosened, the sobs quieting.

As she was about to ask if he needed anything, the boy cleared his throat. “Do you think my father will realize I’m gone?”

Ledger peered at her, and the hope that filled his eyes broke her heart.

Most half-Fae who ended up here were the result of a one-night affair or a Fae going against the king’s orders and falling in love with a human. Since it was forbidden to wed humans, it was rare for the relationships to last.

And even if they did…

Few humans survived them, survived the harassment and the nobles who took it upon themselves to right what they felt had been wronged.

Most of the children here had a dead parent and a parent who’d left them in the streets or the wilderness, pressured by their families or neighbors.

They were considered the lucky ones.

As if living in squalor, begging for scraps, and being spat on was luck.

Offering Ledger a small smile, she brushed a stray hair out of his face. “I could lie to you and tell you he will. But I don’t know, Ledger. If he comes for you, we won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to. You are not a prisoner here.”

In the four years she’d done this—brought these children here for a better life—not a single parent had come for any of them.

He nodded, satisfied with her answer, and when a small yawn escaped him, Lessia smiled again. “Time for bed. Kalia will make sure you have everything you need, but you can always send for me if you need me. Just ask for Lessia.”

As she made her way to the door, Ledger whispered, “Did your family come for you?”

Swallowing, Lessia responded, “I don’t have a family.”

But she couldn’t stop the memory of gentle hands in her hair, the smell of fresh grass, and the sense of happiness flickering to life.

A girl with a face the mirror to her own, giggling as she chased her.

But when that face twisted with pain, emptiness replacing the happiness in the golden eyes, Lessia bit back a whimper.

She hadn’t been able to save her.

But she’d made a vow that no more souls would lie heavy on her conscience.

With a final glance at Ledger, whose eyes had now shut, the hardness in his face softened, she forced a small smile, then walked out of the room.