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The sun had not set on the horizon when I’d finally stopped but my stomach had growled demanding to be fed. I’d dined on a small dinner of greens, vegetable soup and a chunk of stale bread- not worthwhile or grand but would have to do. As I watched the fire crackle and dance, my mug of warm tea in my hands. The lure of sleep called to me, my eyes growing heavier by the second.
A sharp knock at the door startled me awake just as I was about to fall asleep causing my mug to almost slip from my fingers. I paused, fear washing over every fiber of my being. Was it Kaston? Had he finally decided to come back?
I couldn’t chance it, I grabbed the iron poker from next to the fireplace before placing my mug on the table. My steps were slow and deliberate as I walked to the door and leaned against it, the poker poised to defend should I need it. “Who is it?”
A quiet voice replied meekly with such softness I nearly missed it, “Miss, I have a gift here for you from Conwell Manor.”
A gift? From whom? My brows furrowed in confusion as I undid the deadbolt and pulled at the door. The loud creak it made as it opened echoed through the room. On the stoop stood the young girl that had brought us tea in Lady Conwell’s sitting room a large box in her hands. Emerald green and wrapped with a black satin ribbon. I caught the carriage that waited for her outside as I stepped aside so she could come in.
“Please, come in, you can set it on the table there.”
She did just that, setting it carefully on the table before backing away, bowing slightly at the waist. Noticing the iron poker in my hand. “He hoped you would wear it to Lady Conwell’s Spring Ball ma’am. A gift and an apology.”
My heart stopped, he? “I’m sorry, who sent this?”
“Lord Kaston, ma’am.” She dipped her head.
She kept her eyes cast down, playing the part of a demure and obedient servant. As expected, she remained quiet, avoiding any unnecessary attention. It was clear that the servants were mere reflections of those who held their leash, with any deviance from the norm resulting in severe consequences. The thought of the injustice they endured on a daily basis was unfathomable. The wealthy and powerful were cruel and loathsome, and it was evident in every interaction.
That's when she saw it though- the envelope placed under the ribbon and bow that held the box closed. It had my name scribbled elegantly across the front in fine script. My heart sank but a wave anxiety rose up in my chest. I did my best to remain as calm and composed as I could, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to myself.
“Thank you. I appreciate you bringing this to me.”
She curtsied this time but didn’t leave. Hesitating before saying, “He asked that I relay a message.”
I glanced at her, the weariness in her eyes before snagging on the iron poker again, the bruise on my neck.
“He asked if you meet him. In your spot, tonight.” she looked back up at me.
She was pretty, in her own way. I could see the chestnut-colored hair she had under her cap, the few loose curls. Her eyes were brown, but her face was sharp. The angles of her jaw and her cheekbones defined. Her nose was petite, but it was the small bruise on the side of her face hidden by the curls and fabric of the cap that drew my attention.
I wondered if Kaston was as rough with her as he had been with me. She was trembling. It took everything in me not to go to her, to ask her to stay. To be sure she was safe. She was so young and had been dealt cards worse than mine in life. Setting the poker down on the table, showing her I meant her no harm, my voice was soft. “Thank you-”
“Imogen.”
Smiling at her, “Thank you, Imogen.”
She dipped her head one last time and fled out the door. Hurried down the path to the carriage and climbed back inside. It lurched forward and took off down the lane headed toward the main streets of Rothnia and Conwell Manor at its center. I couldn’t stop the worry that formed in my chest, for her.
For me.
Kaston wanted to meet me.
I knew what doing so would result in. And I had absolutely no intention of going out there. I’ve done enough foolish things in my life, I was not going to put myself through this.
Instead, I slammed the door closed and locked the deadbolt. It would not be much, it certainly wouldn’t stop someone from forcing their way in, but as I pushed the table in front of the door as an extra security measure, my eyes snagged on the envelope again. I grabbed the poker and sat in my chair, ignoring the weight of the box and the envelope.
I would sit here all night if I had to. He was not catching me alone and unarmed again. But the lull of sleep called to me again as my eyes became heavy, drifting off into another nightmare.
ChapterSeven
THE GOBLIN KING
OBSERVing THE MORTAL FROM afar, hidden beneath the shadows of the trees my blood boiled. This man was sneaky. Not only had he slipped past my watch, but he had gone into her home. I had not missed the bruise around her neck. How it angered me when I saw it. An irrational thought had presented itself to me shortly after I’d spotted it. A thought that perturbed me more than anything.
How it would feel to repay him in kind. How I could crush his neck under my own strength and grip. The thoughts receded shortly there after. But because of this mortal man, I was not going to risk anything. I’d sent my companion to track her whereabouts the very next day, surveillance on her always. I could not risk serious harm coming to the girl before I could act.
She was still vital to my plans.
