Page 13

T he weight of defeat followed me to the second floor.

A fraction of the heaviness lifted as I was greeted by Claire’s warm smile. She was somewhat reserved, and had only given me a glimpse of her story, but I enjoyed her company.

“Claire, do you think we will ever get out of here?”

She looked up from her pile of linens. “Did something happen?”

“Oh … well, I asked Jesmine if there would be any way to earn my freedom after my offering was complete.” I sighed. “I’m sure you can imagine how well that went.”

“It was brave of you to ask. You’ve only been here a couple of weeks and you’ve tried more than I ever dared. If anyone has a chance to get out of here, it’s you.”

“What about you? You don’t think you have a chance to go home?”

She shrugged, her focus returning to the pillow. “Your determination gives me hope, which is something I haven’t had in a while.”

“If I find a way, I promise I will try to help you too.” I didn’t know how much value the words held, considering I had no idea what to do next, but I would help her if I could.

“I appreciate that.” Her smile faded and she lowered her voice. “But be careful who you share your plans with. There are many among these walls who are more loyal to Jesmine than you may believe.”

I wondered who she was referring to. After my failed attempt earlier, I had no plans to speak of, let alone share with anyone.

The day dragged on. Despair dug in with its sharp claws as I replayed Jesmine’s shrieking laugh at the idea I could earn my freedom— or anything at all, for that matter . It was hard not to feel hopeless. While I appreciated Claire’s encouragement, maybe her faith in me was misplaced.

With another day of cleaning behind me, I retreated to my room.

Arden stood outside my door, a covered tray in his hand. “I’m sorry about storming off the other day,” he said as I approached. “I was hoping we could eat dinner and talk.”

“Sure.” I opened my door and led us in. An intense pang of hunger struck as Arden lifted the cover to reveal a platter of fruit and cheese. “Where did you get that?”

He pulled a half-smile. “One of the few perks of residing on the third floor—we are served decent food compared to what I saw on your tray the other day.”

“Apology accepted,” I said with a wide grin, eyeing the sliced apples. I cleared my dresser, and Arden set down the tray. “Not that I was entirely upset with you, more the situation. I know we all have our own ways of dealing with this place.”

I offered him the chair while I sat on the bed. The dresser served as a makeshift table.

“I hate that you ended up here,” he confessed. “And it’s hard for me, but—”

“I know. You have your family to look out for. Just as I know, my sacrifice here serves the people of Fernton.” Truthfully, that fact did little to ease my grief. “I just don’t want to give up hope of ever living a life of my own choosing.”

“I heard you asked Jesmine about earning your freedom.”

“You did? She told you that?” I asked.

“She didn’t tell me specifically, more like she was talking to anyone in the room who’d find it amusing, and I happened to be standing nearby.”

“Well, I consider it a lesson learned because now I know that trying to befriend Jesmine will get me nowhere.”

“Everyone tries to appease her, but from what I’ve seen, very few do. I know I’ve said it before, but Nova, you really should try not to bring attention to yourself.” He paused. “And I don’t want to say it’s hopeless, but maybe you should be more realistic about your options.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. But his words had opened a black pit in my stomach and suddenly I lost my appetite. He didn’t believe I would ever be free.

The conversation moved to a lighter topic, mostly about food and things we missed from Fernton. I tried to remain agreeable and interested as we finished our meal.

Arden confessed that his treatment as a guard was more favorable than mine. Nicer lodgings and the ability to visit his mother and sisters a few times a year.

He and Claire were the only ones in the fortress I could talk to.

Despite that, whatever friendship was developing between Arden and me seemed murky.

Earlier in the day, Claire had been so supportive of my perseverance, whereas Arden repeatedly tried to smother the spark of hope that flickered in my soul.

Ever since the incident with Clay, I practiced keeping my genuine desires hidden from others when necessary—this would be no different. I wondered if he sensed it. The smile on his face told me he was oblivious.

“It has been a long day,” I said. “Thank you for the food. I really should get some sleep, though.”

“Of course. We’ll have to do this again. I’ll bring the food.” He smiled, picking up the empty tray. “Goodnight Nova.” His action seemed heartfelt as he closed the door behind him.

Arden wanted a friendship. Sometimes I thought he hinted at more, by the way he brought me food, and how his gaze lingered.

In less dire circumstances, perhaps there could be more, but I wasn’t sure.

Our dispositions were too different, and I didn’t think he would look deep enough to understand that.

He’d accepted the hand fate dealt him; I was going to fight for more.

Jarrett unwrapped the previous day’s bandage as I tried to shake off a fitful night of sleep. Tossing and turning, my dreams had been haunted by Slips resembling the women I’d been imprisoned with.

“I can switch to the other arm if this is getting sore,” Jarrett said, redirecting my focus.

“No, that’s ok.”

“Well, if you’re not going to give this arm time to heal, make sure you take extra care to keep it clean,” he grumbled, making it obvious he didn’t agree with my decision, but he didn’t push the issue further.

I started on my duties in the first guest chamber.

Surprisingly, Claire wasn’t waiting when I arrived, and I didn’t find her in any of the usual rooms. She must have been pulled away to help the Ashlora servants again.

As the day grew long, she still hadn’t appeared, so I headed over to the library to clean by myself. It took nearly an hour for me to complete one section of shelving.

I turned into an alcove tucked at the far side of the room.

Fitted with a dark green armchair and a small table, it looked inviting.

I was daydreaming of hiding myself away and lounging there with a good book, when I noticed someone had left a few volumes out on the table. I stepped closer to read the titles.

“I am done with them if you are interested,” a deep voice rang from behind.

I turned. It was him—the Ashlora man from the dungeon. My breath stilled, and I retreated a few steps, eyeing an escape route.

“Oh. It’s you.” Something sparked in his eyes.

In the bright light of the library, I confirmed the Ashlora was just as striking as I remembered from our fleeting encounter the first day I arrived.

A shock of dark hair, straight nose, and a strong, square jawline.

He held himself with an aura of calm confidence, which somehow made me more uneasy—or maybe it was the intensity of his gray eyes tracking me, accentuated by long, dark lashes.

“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t run into you again,” he said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “I have been wanting to apologize.”

“Apologize?” I asked. My tongue felt heavy.

Again, he was finely dressed. Today in a black shirt with a gray vest fitted close enough to highlight his impressive physique. A build that made me feel small and defenseless.

“Yes,” he said. “I am sorry for how I handled our meeting in the storage room.” He shifted his weight. “You took me by surprise. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Compared to the tone he’d held before, his voice was smooth, almost friendly.

“Mmhmm.” I nodded, unable to look away as his gaze locked with mine.

Like the flames of a fire, the man was a mesmerizing sight to behold, and just as the winds could shift, creating an inferno which destroyed everything in its path, so too could he.

I need to get away from him. I stood tall.

“I will leave you to your reading,” I said, taking a step to move past him, making sure not to expose my back.

“Wait. Truly. I mean you no harm. … What is your name?”

He was an Ashlora—I couldn’t disrespect him without risking punishment. I paused, then reluctantly told him. “Nova.”

At our close proximity, it would be all too easy for him to grab me and burn all the life from my body. I wondered how bad it would hurt—death by Ashlora.

Nodding toward my bandaged arm, he said, “I heard you are here to restore the human ward. How long is your service required?”

I flattened my palms against my thighs to keep from fidgeting.

“I have over two moon cycles remaining.” My ire rose, thinking of the previous day’s rejection.

“But of course Jesmine has her own plans for me after that, which I’m sure will be even more dreadful—” I snapped my mouth closed, realizing who I was talking to.

The words had tumbled out, I couldn’t draw them back.

Warning bells rang in my head that I overstepped, revealed myself to the enemy and showed clear disdain for my superior, his equal.

His eyebrows lowered. “You are—”

“Lord Embers.” Jesmine’s voice trilled from a short distance away.

My stomach flipped at the announcement of her arrival. I prayed she had not overheard my rant.

“I thought I might find you here,” she said, moving nearer.

Her words struck me—he was a lord … and I had not once addressed him with the proper title.

Jesmine’s smile turned bitter as she rounded the bookshelf and took me in. “Is my servant bothering you?”

Lord Embers turned his attention toward her, shooting an indifferent glance in my direction. “No, not at all,” he replied. Turning his back, he ushered her away. “I was just having her clear away my finished readings.”

They withdrew, engrossed in one another’s attention.

I ducked between two large shelves, moving out of sight until the pounding of my heart receded.