Page 68 of To Touch A Silent Fury (The Bride of Eavenfold #1)

Tani

T he next two days passed in much the same way the last two had.

Foxlin turned every visitor away, and I did not stop him.

I had made my attempt, and it was shot to nothing.

The Wragg didn’t even ask how I was, he just heard the words ‘recovering from an illness’ and turned on his heel, muttering something about seeing me on the day.

Theollan, though, I did feel guilty about, but I would find a way to uphold my end of our bargain in time.

He had helped me by implying Prince Eamallan’s interest, and I would help him, too, giving him my theory on why a woman could even be Moontouched, even if it was the last letter I wrote before the end.

The only exception Foxlin made was with Plonius.

Yesterday, the tailor was permitted, under his watch, to leave a large box in the room.

With the limited time, he had only modified an existing dress to my measurements, but if the colour of his under eyes and the previous dress was anything to go by, it would be a wonder to behold.

I never opened the box.

There was little point when I could imagine what I would find.

Another win for The History of the Five , no doubt.

Mephluan was described with reference to her snow-white skin, and she was always painted in snow.

Purity in every step. Untouched, untainted.

If I opened the lid, I would see a white gown, the colour symbolising my virtue.

The Muse recast before a husband claimed me and dirtied me with his image.

It could burn in that box for all I cared.

Therefore, given Foxlin’s rigidity in keeping nearly everyone away, I was surprised when I heard a knock at the door.

I blinked out of my nap, with some faint memory of hearing a low conversation as I dozed. Tonight, I ran. I didn’t know when I would next have the benefit of sleeping on such a comfortable bed with a rather dedicated guard posted out front who barely seemed to sleep himself.

“Vorska?”

It was Foxlin, calling through the closed door.

“Yes?” I replied, sitting up.

“Can I come in?” he said. “It’s just me.”

“Sure,” I said, and yet I looked at my bedside table nonetheless, where the dragontooth lay waiting. I tucked it into the back of my skirt and pulled my top over it as he opened the door.

I still found Foxlin intimidating, mostly due to his size, though he was somewhat slimmer than the Wragg. But there was a kindness in his amber eyes I warmed to, and I had realised one of his tattoos was of a stretching dragon, which charmed me.

Today, he looked uncomfortable, but more than that, concerned. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“What’s the matter? ”

Foxlin released a breath. “Septillis has been arrested by the City Watch.”

His words struck me like a blow. “What?” I said in reflex, as it sank in. “Why?”

“He was caught attempting to post a letter with content deemed to be treasonous,” Foxlin said, his words low and measured.

Fuck. He had actually gone through with it, the letter to warn King Odenor about the coup.

My breath came fast. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t do this without him. Arrested? It could not be. We were supposed to run tonight, and now my one ally was under lock and key. I couldn’t allow it.

My hands shook. “Where is he?”

Foxlin glanced back to the door with a grimace. “He’s in the eastern tower.”

I nodded, and turned to the mirror, pulling my haphazard hair free.

I started to rebraid the mess against my head.

My roots were growing, and I could now see them from a few feet away, but only if I specifically looked for them.

To be safe, I’d taken to dusting my parting with some brown cosmetic powder, but I hadn’t done it today.

“No,” Foxlin said, and I saw his warped reflection in the polished metal before me.

“You aren’t going anywhere near there.” I raised an eyebrow and kept braiding, halfway down my head now, twisting my hands faster.

Foxlin folded his arms, leaning against the wall.

“I know your plan, my lady. Lang told me I was not to stop your leaving.”

I froze, my fingers twisted in my hair. Turning, I took in his expression and found there was nothing unkind there. “Then do not stop me now.”

Foxlin tutted. “Do not waste everything Septillis has done for you by visiting him.”

By the Twins, I hated this place. It was nothing but people doing horrid things to each other.

At least in Gossamir, the deadliness was natural.

The cold, thirst, starvation, beasts. You saw your end plain.

This, this was not nature, this was twisting ugliness, pervading every stone of Droundhaven. I wanted to scream.

“I can’t just let them imprison him,” I said. Frustration bubbled into rage, and I paced across the room. I spun back to Foxlin. “Surely, his mother will speak with the guards.”

“His mother was the one who called for his arrest.” Foxlin raised his hands in exasperation. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Derynallis had imprisoned her own son? Had she no heart at all?

All of me shook with it, an anger I had never felt on myself. An anger that felt like thunder and every broken thing. An anger bigger than the Wragg’s, an anger to destroy worlds. Then it died, as if washed from me, and all I felt was an irrepressible urge to cry.

The wind dropped from my sails. I fell back, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I can’t leave without him.”

Foxlin stepped to the window and stared out the curtains. Then he quickly looked back at me. “I’m telling you this because he left word with a guard that you should pick up your food from Kallie.”

I blinked. “Kallie?”

“The cook who’s been delivering your food for the last few days. I believe you’ve met.”

I recalled the cook I’d met maybe a week ago, down in the kitchens. From Foxlin’s emphasis, this was not a normal food retrieval. Seth had used his last warning words to tell me the next phase of the plan, so I could still escape.

“You expect me to run anyway?” I asked. “To leave Seth behind? ”

Foxlin sighed. “It is your only choice. Pick your food up now, and follow his instructions to the letter.”

Seth had put in so much work, and I knew the worst situation he could imagine would be both of us ending up arrested.

And yet it seemed so cruel that he would be caught on the eve of our flight.

There had to be something I could do. Or something Lang could do.

If the man wouldn’t marry me, maybe he would at least release my first true friend in this world.

I stared down at Hanindred, and the practicality of him reduced the scope of my world for a moment. I breathed, making myself think. He would need feeding, and Kallie would have some actual food for him. Keeping myself and Hanindred alive had to be the first priority.

I would follow Seth’s instructions; I would find the cook and get ready to leave. But I wasn’t giving up on him, not yet.

I walked up to the guard and touched his hand.

He blinked in confusion, shifting his hand away. “My lady?”

But it was enough. Enough to trust him for now. I flicked my head back at Hanindred. “Will you watch him? Guard him?”

Foxlin nodded. “I will. I’ll stay until you return.”

What I had felt on him was enough for me to believe it. “Thank you,” I said sincerely.

“It is my job.”

“I don’t think this is your usual appointment. Besides, it was Wainstrill’s job, too. And I did not thank him.”

Foxlin grinned. “Wainstrill’s a cad.”

His smile was infectious, and I returned it for a flash, before the thought of Seth wiped that away. With one last look at my sleeping Hanin, I tapped Foxlin’s arm and opened my door. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Do not go to that tower, Vorska.”

“Goodbye, Foxlin,” I said, stepping lightly to the gardens.

“Impossible woman,” he said under his breath .

I ignored him as I crossed towards the stairs.

My mind reeled as I descended down to the kitchens.

I hadn’t worn my beads again, and it was intentional.

If the Wragg thought to rescind his proposal because I was not proper, that would be a fine victory.

Plus, I wanted as little attention as possible, with no questions on my illness or my nuptials.

The beads declared me as a single woman of the Sightlands.

Without them, I was more likely to blend in as a Tastelands server.

If I was to escape from the castle alone, being recognised could be the difference between life and death.

I found Kallie scolding a boy as he kneaded some dough. Her own face had decidedly less flour across it than his. I approached her, paying attention to no one else, and dropped into a curtsy.

“It’s you, then,” she said, as I straightened.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. “Come with me, girl.”

I kept my head low as Kallie pulled me by my forearm through to the pantry, and then down the stairs to the wine cellar. Dusty bottles filled the shelves, and a puddle of spilled ale sat below a slow-dripping tapped keg.

Kallie dropped my hand and skirted around two huge barrels to one of the shelves. She pushed the wood, and it swung open, a dank corridor behind it, completely unlit. “Back from the days when this were a smuggler’s port.”

“That’s a way out?”

She nodded and appraised me from head to toe. “Tonight, you’re to come down here with the white-haired one. There’ll be a boat docked in the cave below. Row out through the city, to the right of the Crook’s Spire, and then onto wherever youse need to go.”

“It’ll be just me. ”

Kallie blinked, then nodded. “All’s the same, though you might struggle with the oars.”

Something about that cracked something inside me. “I’ll manage, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Right you are,” she said, eyeing me with uncertainty before slapping one of the kegs. “I’ll leave a bag on top of this here barrel. Mind you don't forget it, or you’ll starve before Verdusk.”

I swallowed. “Thank you, again.”