Impending Reprisals Read online

  “I was simply asking if she had heard anything concerning Kael’s whereabouts.” She peered up at her father, studying him for his reaction—a response he did not attempt to mask.

  Surprise colored his face. He dropped his palms to his thighs to rub dry. “Yes, well, I was meaning to speak with you about that.”

  “Yes?” Her spine straightened, tensed in anticipation.

  “Kaelestis has left and will not be returning.”

  Anya’s heart slammed in her chest as she stared at her father, hoping she had not heard him correctly. “Where is he?” Her voice was muted to the point well below a whisper, shock setting in as her stomach quivered in fear.

  “Speak up, girl.

  Anya cleared the lump in her throat and tried again. “Where is he?”

  “Far from here. An apprenticeship, of sorts.”

  She shook her head in denial, her brow furrowed. “That does not make any sense. He said nothing about this to me.” She glared at her father, causing him to lean back a measure, surprised by her sudden anger. “You met with him yesterday to discuss something. What was it?”

  His black eyes narrowed at the bluntness of her demand, but he did not address it. It certainly was not in Anya’s character to behave in such a manner, so he knew something was truly vexing his daughter. “I chose him for the detail. That is what we spoke of.”

  “You?”

  “Yes. He will make a fine warrior, and will certainly make Liberwood proud.”

  Anya’s emerald eyes flashed as she pointed an accusing finger. “Why would you impose such a fate on him?”

  Chiberus was startled by her venomous tone, confused as to what the source could be and a bit more than perturbed by it. “I imposed nothing! It was his choice to make, and he accepted. True, it took him longer to commit than I would have thought necessary, but decide he did.”

  “And you did not even allow him to bid me farewell?” Tears flooded her eyes as she bit back a sob.

  “Certainly, I did!” Chiberus exclaimed, his voice rising with his frustration. “He refused.”

  Anya lowered her hand, studying her father with a level of skepticism she had never before felt toward him.

  Surely Kael would not leave without saying goodbye.

  Her father took a deep, calming breath. “He could not reveal his destination and determined it would be too hard to keep it from you. Honorable decision, I must say, for it obviously pained him to not say his farewells.” He reached forward to pat her fallen hand. “I know you and Kaelestis have always been close friends. Rejoice with this news, and his newfound calling. This will mean great things for him.”

  Anya managed to halt the tears long enough to feign a pathetic smile—a smile her father was all too willing to accept as real. “Of course I am happy for him, Father. I am merely stunned by his sudden departure.”

  Chiberus stood, clearly eager to be done with their conversation. “I know, Anya. All will be well. You will see.”

  She had barely nodded a hesitant agreement before Chiberus fled the room.

  Anya stared after her father, not blaming him for his escape. He had done well by her estimation—raising her the best he could after her mother, his loving wife, passed on when Anya was merely three years of age. And he did fare better on this occasion than he ever had in the past; usually disappearing the moment tears were revealed. But Anya could not be so swift in her forgiveness this time.

  Kael was gone. And she truly believed her father could not have inflicted a deeper wound if he had thrust a blade into her heart instead.

  Anya fingered the amulet around her neck, the only keepsake of her mother’s she had in her possession. Turning her vacant eyes to the window, the tears streamed freely. And in that moment she mourned her lost love, wishing her mother was there when she desired her council most.

  Chapter 3

  One Year Later

  Anya traced her fingers along the edge of the counters, pacing back and forth in the spacious cookery.

  “Child! Would you stop your incessant wandering? You are about to drive me bats with the way you have been sulking about.”

  Anya snapped out of her reverie to look at Sedalene. “Did you say something, Seda?”

  Her nanny shook her head in exasperation and stopped cutting the carrots long enough to point her knife at Anya. “It is a good thing you have another ball tonight. You need a good distraction.”

  Anya’s face twisted as she groaned. “The ball. I had nearly forgotten.” She dragged her feet to the small table and sat heavily in a chair, burying her face in her hands.

  “Stop your fretting, girl. Perhaps this time you might enjoy yourself.”

  “Not likely,” Anya grumbled, running her hands down her face to drop them in her lap.

  For far too long, nearly a year, Anya had simply been drifting through her life; filling her time by assisting the servants with chores and taking long, solitary walks through the meadow. Very rarely did such events as the masquerade ball occur—although it was the third this particular lordship had held since Kael’s departure. She knew Sedalene was confused by her lack of excitement, but little did she know, the last two balls only proved to be a painful reminder of what Anya had lost shortly after the first.

  “That is it,” Sedalene declared, slamming the knife down and storming toward Anya, wiping her hands on her apron along the way.

  Anya peered up at her nanny with big green eyes as the tears welled up.

  Sedalene instantly softened her posture and pulled up a chair, clasping Anya’s hands. “What is it, my child? I know you have been melancholy in Kael’s absence, but you have not even attempted to make new acquaintances. Perhaps if you did, the void would not seem so great.” She swiped at Anya’s tears before reclaiming her hand. “Apparently I did not realize how close you two had become. But you will make other friends, my dear.”

  It had been months since Anya let the grief overtake her. Her shoulders heaved as she held her breath against the familiar threat of emotions, although nothing could halt the trickle of tears. Once she could gather enough air in her lungs, she responded. “He was more than a friend to me.”

  Sedalene’s eyes widened as the truth of the situation was revealed. “Of course,” she muttered, squeezing Anya’s hands. “It all makes sense now. Surely, I have been blind.”

  “You could not have known, Seda. Kael and I learned to hide our feelings well.”

  “Because of your father?”

  “He would never have approved of Kael.”

  “Now, Anya, let us be fair. You cannot be certain of that. Your father has always had your happiness in mind.”

  “Yes, but if he had approved of Kael, he would have approached his family about an arrangement long ago.”

  Sedalene shrugged, conceding to the logic of her reasoning.

  “And we were afraid if anyone found out, we would no longer be able to spend so much time together.”

  Sedalene smoothed a hand down Anya’s dark mahogany hair, gently cupping her cheek along the way. “You poor girl. I apologize... I did not realize…” She leaned back in her chair. “You love him.”

  Anya looked her in the eye before replying in a quiet tone. “Very much so.”

  Sedalene delivered her next question gently, glancing over her shoulder to ensure their privacy before whispering, “Did you bed him?”

  “Certainly not!” Anya hissed.

  Sedalene arched her brow with a sly smile, not fully believing Anya’s protest.

  “We did not, Seda.” Anya’s eyes narrowed before looking down at her folded hands. “We thought we had time. Perhaps I would have, knowing what I know now—that our time was limited.”

  Sedalene was silent for a moment, then placed a hand on Anya’s knee. “Perhaps it is not as limited as you think.”

  Anya’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  “You are twenty-one years of age.”

  “Yes…”

  “Twenty-three is not
so far away. What is a mere two years for true love?”

  Anya slumped. “Did you forget, Seda, that Kael is far away?”

  Sedalene shook her head, the bun knotted on the back of her head wobbling with the motion as a smile spread across her face. She had obviously thought of a solution that had not yet occurred to Anya. “At twenty-three you decide for yourself as to who you want to be with, and your father must abide by your choice.”

  Anya’s brow creased further.

  “My dear child, think of it. Your father alone knows of Kael’s location.”

  Hope sparked bright and deep. “Do you think he will tell me?”

  “He would have to, if Kael is your choice. And surely he would provide a unit of guards to escort you to your man safely.”

  “Seda, you are brilliant!” Anya clasped her hands under her chin, bouncing in her chair with her excitement.

  “Calm yourself, girl. You still have a small measure of time to wait.” She winked at Anya. “Now, run along and get dressed for the ball. I will be there shortly to assist.”

  “Thank you, Seda!” Anya jumped to her feet and planted a kiss on Sedalene’s cheek before skipping off to her quarters.

  Anya was so thrilled with the prospect of seeking Kael that she no longer cared about the dreary escort her father had surely arranged for her. Seeing everything in a new light, Anya realized her father had not yet attempted a serious pairing, and the likelihood he would suddenly endeavor to do so was doubtful.

  Fairly certain of what her future now held for her, Anya decided to be content to live life to the fullest, and enjoy her time in Liberwood while it lasted—dreadfully boring escort, or not.

  *****

  Anya curtsied at the end of the dance, mindful as to how she held her shoulders. The dress her father had chosen was much more revealing than usual. She was well aware of how the fabric cut low across her shoulders, revealing the top mounds of her breasts and a small measure of cleavage. Sedalene had assured her the dress would stay in place, and yet those words provided Anya with little comfort.

  The music began again and the masked man—the lord hosting the party—held out his hand as an invitation to partner for the next dance as well.

  “Oh, excuse me, My Lord, but I must decline.” She bowed her head in respect. “I think I shall go outside. The fresh air will do me well before I seek out my date for the evening.”

  “Would you care for an escort?” he asked, his hazel eyes intent and sharp through the holes in his mask.

  “Oh, no. Please, enjoy your party. I would hate to take you from your other guests.” Anya blushed under his stare, becoming aware, more than ever, of her need for some fresh air.

  “As you wish.” He broke his gaze and bowed low, sweeping her hand up to brush against his lips. “Perhaps you would be so gracious as to honor me with another dance later in the evening.” He straightened, locking her in his gaze once more.

  “Certainly, My Lord. It would be my pleasure.”

  The tall, statuesque man nodded once as he backed away a step, then spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd of guests.

  Anya’s hand flew to her throat to fiddle with her amulet in a nervous gesture before remembering she had taken it off—it had not gone well with her deep red gown. Thoroughly flustered by the young lord’s amorous behavior, she wove through the crowd, seeking the nearest exit so she could calm herself with the crisp evening air. By the time she reached the outskirts of the gathering, she was completely turned around and unaware as to which way to turn. Spotting a door to her right, she hoped for the best and pushed her way through.

  Relief overwhelmed her as she stepped outside, though she had not come out where she had intended; finding an alleyway behind the grand hall rather than the courtyard. Glancing at her surroundings, she determined it to be safe and assured herself she would only be there but a moment, long enough to gather her nerves and cool her flushed skin.

  The door closed behind her as she stepped further into the alley, better allowing the wind to wash over her. Anya gazed at the bright full moon as a gentle breeze weaved through the tangle of curls piled high on her head. Reveling in the cool atmosphere, she wandered deeper into the alley, the light from the moon displaying no threat as she meandered around wooden crates and ventured toward the dead end. It was not until she heard a throat clearing that she suddenly worried as to what danger might approach from behind.

  Anya twirled about to see two men blocking her path to the door, leering at her with matching smirks.

  “Well, well. Look what we got here now,” the burlier of the two stated, displaying a row of brown, crooked teeth as he looked her up and down.

  The shorter, slimmer man nudged him in the side with a boney elbow. “Maybe she’s lookin’ for a good man to warm ‘er.”

  Anya stepped back, her eyes darting around for a weapon as she snatched the obscuring mask off her face.

  “Ain’t ya a pretty lady, now.” The larger man inched closer.

  The other man’s eyes widened as he grabbed him by the arm. “Ya know who that be?”

  “Who?”

  “The Weapons Master’s daughter.”

  The big man grinned, lurching forward. “Good. Maybe she be havin’ some fight in ‘er then.”

  Anya lost sight of the smaller man as he laughed and fell behind the bulky leader, cutting to and fro between the crates as they made their way toward her. She backed away, continually banging the back of her thighs against obstacles in her path, until a clatter caught her attention. Frightened, she snatched the fallen board from the cobblestone ground, and held it high while the big man advanced.

  “Ya, girl. Try ta fight me. It’ll make the takin’ more fun.” He chuckled darkly as he closed the last remaining steps between them.

  Anya swung wildly with her makeshift weapon, connecting solidly with the man’s shoulder. But he only sneered and knocked the board out of her hands, unaffected at all by her strike. She screamed as he clamped a grubby hand over her mouth. Grabbing her by the waist, he bent her over a crate, pinning her with his body as he pressed his face into her tender neck.

  “Now, let’s see what other fight ya got in ya.” He lurched hard against her body as his partner knocked into him. Without looking back, he yelled, “Ya wait yer turn!”

  His hot rancid breath washed across her skin when he lifted his face, panting as he fumbled with his belt. She trembled which only seemed to make him more eager, and then thrashed wildly when she heard his buckle slide free.

  He locked his beady eyes on hers and offered a cruel smile as he jerked the hem of her gown up, leaning against her chest to maintain control. “Ya, keep on squirmin’ fer me. That be the way I wantcha.”

  Her muffled scream was all she could hear above the furious thunder of her heart, the bile rising in her throat as his hand snaked up her leg.

  The man suddenly slumped forward, his eyes going wide as all color drained from his face. His grip on Anya’s mouth loosened and her frantic screams tore loose, echoing in the narrow alleyway as the man’s weight lifted. Not questioning the cause, she rolled off the crate to her feet and scrambled toward the back corner of the alley, snagging another loose board along the way.

  Anya spun about, slamming her back to the wall, eyes blazing as she prepared to meet her attackers with everything she could muster. Her gaze darted as she took in the scene; the skinny man in a heap on the ground and the bigger one falling as the young lord pulled a dagger from his back.

  Realizing she was safe, all her strength drained. Her weapon clattered to the cobblestone as she slid down the brick wall into a huddled form. Great sobs welled from within as she hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, forehead to her knees. She heard his approach, his boots sounding in slow, tentative steps, but she still flinched when his fingers touched her shoulder. He immediately pulled his hand back as he crouched beside her.

  “Miss Anya, you must come inside.” His voice was low, gentle, and soo
thing.

  Anya lifted her head and looked at the man who had saved her, tears blurring her vision as she studied the lord. She recognized it to be him from his clothing alone, for she had not yet seen his face before this moment. His hazel eyes were warm and calming, his brow set with concern.

  Slowly, he lifted a hand and offered it, seemingly hesitant to touch her without her expressed permission, afraid he might frighten her again. Anya controlled her fear as she slid her hand into his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Without thinking about her actions—and to his apparent surprise—she huddled against his side, sensing the safety of his presence, and compelling him to wrap a protective arm around her. He guided her down the cluttered alley, shielding her eyes from the dead bodies by easing her head into the crook of his neck, holding her there until they had passed the carnage. And once they had, he did not release her, pulling her closer to his side instead.

  His embrace spoke of security and warmth, and Anya readily accepted both as she leaned into him, knowing it was what she needed and grateful the lord consented to provide it for her. She was still trembling from her ordeal as she watched their journey down the alley with a sidelong gaze. Each quiver traveling the length of her frame caused him to tighten his hold and quicken his pace.

  She had expected the lord to lead her back inside, but they walked past the door of the hall and continued along the side of the building, circling around to the front. He then lead Anya to an elaborate black carriage stationed in the shadows, the driver hopping down and yanking open the door when he saw their approach.

  “See to her escort, and fetch a blanket. Warm it by the fire.” The lordship held Anya’s hand as she stepped into the enclosed cabin.

  The driver nodded and ran into the hall while the lord climbed in after her. Anya settled on the blue velvet padded seat, wrapping her arms around herself as the lord sat opposite, sure to keep his distance in their confined setting.

  “Are you all right, Miss Anya?”

  She nodded numbly at the handsome man, and then whispered, “How do you know my name?”

  He issued a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “One does not dance with a woman as beautiful as yourself and not seek out her name.”