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I recall the first time I met Jordy. We were children, and Gram had taken me to the market square for a marionette show. Jordy was there with his parents, passing out sweet cakes to the children in attendance. His father was maneuvering one of the marionettes, and his mother was none too proud. Jordy personally handed a sweet cake to me, commenting on my hair.
“Did it hurt?” he’d asked.
“Did what hurt?” I’d replied.
“The fire when it danced in your hair?”
No one had ever referred to my hair as fire before, and his words confused me. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or complimenting me. But when he took a seat next to me when the show started, I noticed him staring at my hair, admiration in his eyes. Then, right before the show was over, he touched a lock of my hair. It was on the end, and ever so slightly, but he’d touched it. The boy truly believed that my hair was fire-kissed. I suppose he’d expected me to burn him. Funny, I never expected him to burn me.
The cold surrounds me and my face is numb. My hands betray me, shaking violently. I force myself to come to my senses. It’s dark and I need to get home. Patrol will be out soon. It’s hard to see when I stand. I pull Gram’s match and my flintstone from my chemise and look around for a stick or piece of wood to burn as a makeshift torch. But after a few moments, I think better of it. There’s no way I’m striking Gram’s match. I’d rather die than burn out the wish she gave to me on her deathbed. I will join her in eternity first. I tuck the match back into my chemise and rest against the wall again.
I close my eyes and give in to the silence now surrounding me. I only need a few moments to rest and gather my thoughts. I know these streets like the back of my hand. I don’t need light to maneuver them. I sink further into the darkness, and I see Gram’s face. This can’t be real.How is shehere?
“Gram, take me with you! I want to be with you.”
She is silent and smiling. No movement, no words.
“Gram!” I scream again. “Take me with you!” But she is gone.
I am in the abyss. Alone. Searching. The logic in my aching brain reminds me that Gram isn’t really here. And no matter how badly I want to remain here and conjure her memory, I have to get to the cottage. I will die in this alley if I stay here. I have seen souls who have frozen to death. I cannot allow that to be my fate, no matter how solidly my heart is broken. The air entering my lungs is icy and sharp, but I take the needed breaths anyway. I open my eyes wider, a lantern on the street in the distance is the only light I see. I reach behind me and place my palms on the cold wall. I slowly creep my hands along the splintering wood, lifting myself to my feet again.
“This feeling is the cold overtaking you, Milla,” I mutter. “Move beyond it or you will die.”
I urge myself to move. Once I am up and walking, my limbs will find their life again. I take another step and my feet fail me. I have remained in the cold too long. My face hits the ground and I see stars behind my eyes. The lantern light from the street is close now. I try to open my eyes, but a swirl of dizziness grips me. I feel strong arms lifting me from the cold earth.
“You are safe now, my lady,” the male voice says.
It is familiar, but it is not Jordy. It is the last coherent thought I manage before succumbing to the blackness.
CHAPTER 16
I struggle to open my eyes. There is lamplight, but it is dim. My head feels like it has been split with a mallet. I smell fresh hay and cow dung, not an appealing combination. There are chickens below me. I can hear their soft clucking. Confusion ticks in my brain.Where am I?I try to sit up when I see mounds of hay around me and the shadow of a man on my right.
“Please, don’t try to sit up, mistress. You took a nasty—”
The scream shoots from my throat as his hand cups my mouth, crushing my lips against my teeth. Panic swells in my belly. What is happening?
“Please do not scream, Mistress Milla. Do you want the guards to hear you?”
Yes, actually I do!But I don’t say it. I am laying in a bed of straw, and a blanket is covering me. I am fully dressed, right down to my stockings and boots. Thank the gods I have not been defiled, although I feel like I have been trampled by a team of horses. I’m struggling to piece together what events have brought me here, in what is apparently a barn.
“Who are you?” I instinctively ask, but I recognize Sir Victor before the words are fully out of my mouth. His spiked, blond hair is a dead giveaway.
“Sir Victor of House Winston,” he replies, “and we have met before, my lady.”
“Indeed, we have.” I push up on one elbow and place my other hand on my throbbing head. “But, as I recall, the last time I saw you, you had a noose around your neck. And the time before that, the king’s guards were dragging you away, accusing you of treason. So, explain to me why I shouldn’t be screaming at precisely this moment?”
He runs a hand through his blond spikes and sits down in the hay next to me. His muscled arms are even bigger than I thought. He could snap me like a twig if enticed, yet I oddly feel completely safe with him, no matter my fervent questioning. He wears his goodness like a cloak. He reminds me of my Jordy…. Then I recall the kiss, Treena’s hands on Jordy’s face and her lips on his. Maybe I shouldn’t trust this Victor in the slightest. Even men clothed in goodness are rogues.
“Well, for starters,” Sir Victor announces, “I saved you from freezing to death in that alley. You’ll need to explain that one to me later, by the way. I am curious to know how you found yourself in that predicament. And secondly, because I can tell you exactly who you are, and I can show you proof that my claims are true.”
It’s hard to allow myself to believe his words. I push myself up to a seated position. My head is still pounding, but a little more bearable. Sir Victor doesn’t look like a knight at all, in his plain white shirt and brown trousers. He looks to be ever the commoner, which I know is his intention. He is a wanted man, after all. How can he know anything at all about my lineage?
“Here,” Victor says. “I brought you some tea. It is no longer hot, regrettably, but you don’t drink it for the taste, you drink it for the medicine. I knew you’d need something for your head when you awakened, and this will do the trick. It was indeed a nasty fall you took.” He touches my cheek and I pull away. “I’m afraid you have a bruise on your cheek, mistress. You can thank the icy ground for that. You’re lucky I came along when I did.”
His words prompt a sharp laugh. “I’m lucky you came along when you did? I do believe that was no accident, Sir Victor. Tell the truth. You were following me.”
“Aye,” he admits. “Aye, I was. But ‘twas for good reason, and I still saved your life, nonetheless. You would have frozen to death in that alley.”
