Which is why tears sprang unbidden in her eyes as Zara said, “She, along with other Vedrans, were all taken, kept to belocked away in the dungeons within Castle Rime. There have been no burnings, not yet anyway.”
Placing a hand over her stomach, she released a shaky breath. A deep, wrenching sound wishing to escape from her lips, but she refused to allow it. Refused to sink deeper into the memory of burning flesh as she stood on that snow laden field. Watching her very world come to an end. She would rather die than live in a world where that happened to Enid.
Zara’s arms came around her at once, holding her to her chest much how she imagined a mother would comfort her child. Only she had no mother. Hadn’t for a very long time. Anelize gently pushed her away and quickly wiped at her cheek when a tear escaped.
“Wellyn?”
Zara paused, her face falling at the mention of her son. “Last we heard, he was also taken. He tried to stop them, the Watchmen, and they beat him near to death for it. My only hope is that they are both together now. It is the only solace I can grant myself.”
Dread filled Anelize and she dropped her gaze. They’d both been taken. So easily and ruthlessly. And she hadn’t done a single thing to stop it. Once again.
Because you’ve allowed yourself to grow weak,that snide voice in her mind said. Both hers and not at all.
“Oh, Anya. I’m so sorry,” Zara’s fingers curled under her chin, making her look up into her shining eyes.
Anelize shook her head. “This was all Magda’s doing. I should have been there?—”
“Don’t you dare take responsibility for that awful crone’s dirty deeds. She never once deserved either of you. I always told Henry as much. My only regret is not stealing you bothaway from her when you were children after your father died,” Zara said fiercely, interrupting her. “I should have worked harder to convince him it was the right thing to do.”
It was clear why the Dobrin family hadn’t. The risk of Vedrans remaining too close to each other was far too great. If one of them were to be caught, then they all would have been.
“Please don’t mistake my words with ingratitude, but what am I doing here, Zara?”
“We’ll explain everything as soon as you’re ready. Let me help you get into this dress, then we’ll make our way to join the others.”
The others?
After she donned the clean clothes and relished in the dry, warmth of the long socks she’d been given to wear, they made their way down the hall where it opened to a balcony to her right. Anelize heard laughter and cascading voices below. From there she could see at least a handful of people scattered about the round tables, drowning themselves in ale. Welcoming light filled the three floors of the tavern from the candles lit about. Somewhere, a musician played a familiar tune, plucking the strings of a lute.
The third floor, however, was reserved solely for the Dobrin family where they all resided. A home they’d made for themselves long before she was born. After the Dobrins—like the rest of the Vedrans in hiding—had lost everything due to the king’s attacks.
A door opened and a burly man with distinct bright red hair that could only have belonged to one other person she knew stepped into the hall. His eyes widened and his voice was booming when he spotted her. “Either my eyes have truly gone to waste, or thatisAnelize Yarrow standing before me!”
“Henry—”
Two strong arms wrapped around her before she was being lifted off the ground, the air effectively squeezed out of her lungs until Zara insisted that he put her down before cracking one of her ribs. As if the woman hadn’t been one more squeeze away from doing the same moments ago.
“We were beginning to think you’d never wake.”
“I hope I haven’t disappointed you,” she said, and received a deep rumbling chuckle in response.
“We’re just happy to see you up and moving. At the very least, one good thing has come of the past few days.” Henry forced a smile, the loss of his son evident in his gaze. Eventually, he said, “Come now, let’s get you something to eat. Everyone’s already gathered together.”
Before she could ask who they were referring to, Henry and Zara led her down a narrow corridor before they pushed open one of the doors that led into the parlor.
Anelize tensed in the doorway, however, when she noticed two men speaking in hushed tones in front of the slow burning fire. Their attention snapped to her the moment the door creaked open. They looked nearly identical, and she realized they were. Twins, to be exact.
One had dark hair tied back by a leather strap and a flat look as he regarded her, his bronze skin golden against the flickering fire. He was all sharp lines and taut muscles as if at any moment he would spring into action. Even the scowl he shot her way was vicious. The other sported a long scar that ran down the length of his face, curving up into his shorn hair and a glint of mischief in his eyes. It was the latter who waved in greeting to her, unlike the former who continued watchingher, as if she’d done something to disturb him by merely stepping into the room.
Seated at a round table was another man with long golden hair dressed in fine clothes, a cream shirt embroidered in shades of blue along the shoulders and collar. He was younger than the others, possibly nineteen or so, with a soft smile upon his lips as he looked at her. His complexion was unusually pallid, but his eyes were warm. A color neither green nor blue but something in between.Viridian, she decided.
“Has our honored guest awakened then, Zara?” drawled a voice to her right, tearing her attention away from the young man. She spotted a tall man wearing a simple black tunic and pants as he turned away from the bookcase along the wall, holding a leather-bound book in his hand. Familiar dark hair and deep blue eyes immediately sparked recognition as their eyes met.
Suddenly, she was overcome with a fiery, hot rage from some place deep within her. Consuming her entirely, as she stared at the Vedran—no, Watchman—who had taken her sister from her. Staring at her in quiet contemplation as though he hadn’t been the catalyst of her ruination.
When he spoke, the last tether holding her into some semblance of a person willing to still function after losing everything, snapped when, in a taunting low voice, he said, “Well, if it isn’t my Temperance.”
10
