ONE

 

Hurrying through the city, she kept her head down. It was difficult to avoid the small bodies that moved around her but she pressed on, keeping her attentions firmly fixed on herself, not permitting her thoughts to wander toward whatever it was that had everyone so preoccupied that they barely paid her any heed at all. She was thankful for their distractions. Her nerves were frayed enough. The last thing she needed was for someone to notice her as she moved along the packed path, dressed in her finest garments that had been covered with her tattered old cloak.

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Nearing her destination, her pace slackened and the shift caused her to stumble as the toe of her slipper scuffed the dirt. Struggling to catch herself, her hood fell from her head and her mass of long, curly brown hair tumbled free. She looked around self-consciously wondering if anyone had seen her graceless act. Shoving fistfuls of her unruly mane back into the cowl that shielded her, her blue eyes darted through the square that continued to roil with activity beneath the golden glow of sunset. Squinting, she searched the faces. Not one of them showed any interest in her passing and she exhaled with relief. For once, she had managed to avoid scrutiny and she knew it had been her cloak that was responsible. Beneath that cloak, no one suspected she was anything other than a tall man. It was only when strangers realized she was, in fact, female, that the curious glances and whispered conversations could be heard.

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Abandoning her search of the square, she turned her attention toward the south. The city was growing. Situated by the seaside, and so rarely touched by the cold, it was the security that the Duchy provided that appealed most to the people of Lanacoby. Times had been so uncertain around the kingdom. Not much more than a half century had passed since the last Great War and Renim had been one of the few places that withstood the battles. Scarred and worn, the city had sustained damage that even now remained visible, but it had not fallen to its foe. Rebuilding had seen flocks of newcomers arrive. Some had lost their homes in the fighting, others had come simply to benefit from the safety that the now wall-less city offered. Every day it seemed to be growing, becoming more heavily populated, and the new buildings that were under construction were adding to the confusion of the landscape; but she was familiar with those streets. She had lived on them her entire life. They were home.

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Choosing her path, she moved closer to the keep. Her destination was the rose garden that resided within the duke’s own grounds. Her heart fluttered. The rose garden was a beautiful place. She had many fond memories of it from her youth.

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The distance dissolved beneath her feet as her long stride carried her to the Duke’s home, her excitement mingling with fear as she drew nearer, pondering what might await her in that garden.

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The golden light of the sun was quickly fading to the gray of twilight, ensuring that she would arrive in the garden at the agreed upon time. Dusk—as the torches were being lit. The invitation had been quite specific.

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More of a command than request, it had been issued by a visitor to the keep. Cousin to the Duke in an arbitrary fashion, the King’s daughter, Princess Leeora, was the one who had summoned her. Anxiously, she had puzzled over the summons and would have happily continued to do so while ignoring the meeting, from the privacy and protection of her own chamber, had she not been pushed into attending by her mother. Well meaning, she knew that the pressure from the smaller woman had been applied solely to get her out of the house. So many times her mother had shown disapproval over her willingness to remain isolated from others her own age—but she just didn’t understand how cruel the children could be. Especially the Duke’s eldest daughter. With the princess in the keep, it stood to reason that the little lady had already informed the princess of her anomalous height and build; it seemed likely the foreigner wished to see it for herself and that the invitation to meet had been issued only to slake her curiosities. 

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Unable to focus on anything beyond her haste, she ignored the niggling feeling that tried to warn her that she was moving towards trouble, even as she ignored the awe that gripped her when she saw the keep. The sandstone blocks that had been used in the construction of the largest building she had seen in her life were usually enough to ensnare her complete attention, but not this night.

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Rounding the final corner, she caught sight of the Rose Garden. Renowned throughout the entire kingdom for its majesty, even it was incapable of distracting her. Pushing her hood from her head, releasing her springy curls once more, she felt her awe returning as she pressed onward. Three steps were taken towards the low balcony that would permit her entrance to the Duke’s Great Hall before a tight grip closed around her wrist.

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‘Nyxes Dragonbone, I don’t think you want to go any further.’

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The voice belonged to a male. Calm and firm as it addressed her, she was turning to see who had anchored her to the spot as soon as she had felt his touch.

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Studying him, she tilted her head. ‘I know you,’ she said warily. ‘You work in the keep.’

‘In the stables,’ he said in hushed tones as he flicked his head, gesturing that she should follow him.

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Almost a match to her in height the boy was slighter of shoulder than she was; she felt no threat in accompanying him, but her presence was expected elsewhere…

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‘I am sorry,’ she said after only two steps. ‘I have an appointment I must keep.’

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‘I know, but believe me when I say that attending wouldn’t be in your best interest.’

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‘How do you know?’ she asked him, pulling her wrist free of his grasp. He was strong, she could feel it in his hold on her, but she knew she was stronger.

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The details of his face were expressive, though colorless in the low light. His dark eyebrows were furrowed as he contemplated her response to his guidance and the color of his dark eyes was likewise indiscernible as the day transitioned to night. Even the torches that were being lit around the exterior of the keep weren’t enough to shed light on their hue.

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‘I believe the Lady Kalia has a particularly nasty trick planned for you this evening,’ he said with a sigh, as if he had never intended to share that piece of information with her.

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Shocked, Nyxes shook her head. ‘My appointment is with the princess.’

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‘But the invitation came from Kalia. I overheard the Little Duchess speaking with her maid this very day as I was preparing their horses for their morning ride,’ he explained, using the name that the citizens of Renim had given to the Lady Kalia, the Duke’s eldest daughter. ‘The princess will be there but she did not invite you.’

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‘I don’t understand.’

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‘They mean to make a fool of you in front of her. The princess has no interest in what goes on here. She is especially disinterested in meeting anyone that resides in this “Flea riddled backwater duchy” that she claims her father should “reabsorb” before… how did she put it? “Their lofty ambitions see them turn their sights to the capitol”,’ he explained.

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‘You’ve met the princess?’ Nyxes asked him dubiously. His face was honest and open but it didn’t seem likely he’d occupy the same social circle as the princess.

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‘I’ve been in her presence a time or two and I’ve heard what she has to say about us. Believe me, if she is in there, it’s the last place you want to be.’

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‘Why are you helping me?’

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Examining his face, she saw the answer before he found the words. He pitied her.

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‘People like us need to look out for one another.’

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‘Like us?’ she asked archly and her eyebrow shot up before she could stop herself as her defences rose.

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‘Anyone they think is less than them.’

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‘You might be less than them but my Uncle is a Duke,’ she bit acidly as the color crept into her cheeks.

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‘Yes, he is, but that does not change the fact that you are a blacksmith and…’

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‘And?’

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‘And… different to them.’

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‘Different?’ she challenged, emboldened by her rage and humiliation. ‘How exactly am I different?’

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Her question was left unanswered as the young man who had come to her rescue swallowed and took a step back, sensing the danger that lurked in her anger.

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‘I was just trying to help you,’ he said fearfully.

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‘I don’t need your help,’ she assured him and turned, taking a steadying breath as she smoothed her hair and cautiously approached the balcony.

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The night had deepened and she clung to the shadows as she moved. Though the stable boy had warned her off advancing, she was compelled to assess the situation for herself. Deep within her heart of hearts, she knew he had acted in her best interests but she could not—she would not—believe it.

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‘Do you think she’ll come?’ The voice bubbled with nervous energy.

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‘Of course she will. An invitation from the princess is too enticing to pass up. She will think the invitation was extended because of her nobility and her curiosity will get the better of her.’

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‘And the princess?’

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‘Knows nothing of this. When that lumbering troll swans in here like she belongs, the princess will have no choice but to banish her. The humiliation will be devastating!’

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Laughter filled the air above Nyxes’ position. The cold, calculated laugh of the Little Duchess. It was a sound Nyxes knew too well. The stable boy had been right. Tilting her chin defiantly, she forbade the tears she could feel welling in her eyes from falling. She should have known better.

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‘She doesn’t belong in this court. Her Uncle is a duke and her cousins… they are of noble birth, not her. The sooner she learns that, the better it will be for us all.’

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Hearing the young lady of the keep speak so callously about her Nyxes could barely contain her emotions as her anger returned. How could anyone be so cruel? Regretting her own behaviour towards the stable boy only moments before, she did not linger in the shadows to hear more. Her heart was broken and she found herself riddled with guilt. She was no better than the pair of them—given her treatment of him—but nor was she what she appeared to be to them, a giant, lumbering dullard whose only purpose outside the forge was to be used for other people’s amusement.

Her guilt faded as her jaw set. Their games had caused her to hurt someone she had no business hurting and she loathed them for it. She had experienced pain at the hands of others all her life and she had never wanted to inflict that on anyone else.

Retreating from the garden, she moved quietly. Lumbering! She scoffed at the thought. Yes, sometimes she did suffer from bouts of un-coordination but that was almost always a result of haste and distraction. When focussed, she was quite agile, even graceful. If those girls had had any idea how close she had been standing while they were talking, perhaps they would have bitten their tongues!

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