the Immortal commanded Arkarian be part of this mission right at the last minute. All we know is that this child won’t live past her sixteenth year. The year she falls pregnant and gives birth. Arkarian can’t find anything on the child she bears either. It’s as if the baby is raised by the pixies.
Well, I never did fully believe what Ethan takes as sacred – that Arkarian knows everything. And thankfully I’ve learned to mask my thoughts from him, even though sometimes it’s a struggle. If I didn’t, I would be in a fine mess. My thoughts have been anything but decent. And when our eyes meet, I swear, it’s like there’s no oxygen in the room. But something else is happening that I can’t quite figure out. It’s really weird. A seed has taken root in my stomach. A seed of fear. It’s like there’s a clock counting down the time we have together.
I put these thoughts aside while I concentrate on how best to protect this child. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s the only daughter (the only child in fact) of a Duke and Duchess. Unfortunately, last year the Duchess passed away with a wasting disease, and now the child is lonely and depressed. She has an aunt, her mother’s sister, Lady Eleanor, who greets me at the entrance to the keep. She takes a good look at me from head to toe, and then at Arkarian, who remains a little way behind me. With a tight nod, she invites me inside, shutting the door in Arkarian’s face.
‘What happened to your carriage? Why did you arrive on foot, with only that stable-hand for company?’ she snaps.
Behind us, the Duke himself appears. He makes a sarcastic scoffing sound. From what I learned earlier, the Duke spends a lot of time at court in the King’s company. Or on the battlefield leading the royal troops. And from the look Lady Eleanor gives him, I’m guessing it’s not just the Duke’s daughter who finds his absences lengthy.
‘Why do you have to be suspicious of everyone who wears a skirt in my company?’
I have to be careful not to laugh outright at the Duke’s words. Apparently I’m not the only one who’s aware of Lady Eleanor’s longings.
‘My carriage was set upon by thieves,’ I explain. ‘Everything except the clothes on my back was stolen or destroyed. That stable-hand helped me find my way. His name is Gascon.’
The Duke’s hand gestures towards me. ‘There you are, Eleanor. Are you satisfied?’
He’s bitter, but his attitude is not my concern. It’s thegirl I’m here to worry about. ‘When shall I meet the young lady?’ I ask.
The Duke raises his eyebrows at Lady Eleanor, who runs up a nearby flight of stairs. Her departure fills the spacious hall with the most awkward silence, as the Duke stares out of a window to the courtyard beyond, content to say nothing.
‘Excuse me, my lord, may I ask where I shall be staying?’
He taps his finger repeatedly on the stone ledge before him. I wonder if he’s going to bother replying. Eventually he turns his head, ‘No doubt Eleanor will have organised a chamber for you.’ He waves dismissively at Arkarian outside. ‘The boy can go to the stables. Old François will show him where he can stay.’
He looks away, discouraging further conversation. Lady Eleanor returns with the Duke’s daughter and my attention quickly re-focuses. Charlotte seems small for her age, and thin, with pale skin, huge blue eyes, and a mop of blonde ringlets. I fall in love with her on sight, feeling drawn to this beautiful child with the sorrowful eyes and small down-turned mouth. I get on my knees to be at her height. ‘Hello, Miss Charlotte.’
She answers me with nothing but a drooping head and silence, her thumb tucked into her mouth. She rocks on her heels and looks to the stairway.
Take it slowly, I tell myself, and try again. ‘My name is Phillipa, and I’m going to be your—’ I don’t finish my words as my attention is seized by a series of thumping sounds coming from behind her. I look across
Well, I never did fully believe what Ethan takes as sacred – that Arkarian knows everything. And thankfully I’ve learned to mask my thoughts from him, even though sometimes it’s a struggle. If I didn’t, I would be in a fine mess. My thoughts have been anything but decent. And when our eyes meet, I swear, it’s like there’s no oxygen in the room. But something else is happening that I can’t quite figure out. It’s really weird. A seed has taken root in my stomach. A seed of fear. It’s like there’s a clock counting down the time we have together.
I put these thoughts aside while I concentrate on how best to protect this child. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s the only daughter (the only child in fact) of a Duke and Duchess. Unfortunately, last year the Duchess passed away with a wasting disease, and now the child is lonely and depressed. She has an aunt, her mother’s sister, Lady Eleanor, who greets me at the entrance to the keep. She takes a good look at me from head to toe, and then at Arkarian, who remains a little way behind me. With a tight nod, she invites me inside, shutting the door in Arkarian’s face.
‘What happened to your carriage? Why did you arrive on foot, with only that stable-hand for company?’ she snaps.
Behind us, the Duke himself appears. He makes a sarcastic scoffing sound. From what I learned earlier, the Duke spends a lot of time at court in the King’s company. Or on the battlefield leading the royal troops. And from the look Lady Eleanor gives him, I’m guessing it’s not just the Duke’s daughter who finds his absences lengthy.
‘Why do you have to be suspicious of everyone who wears a skirt in my company?’
I have to be careful not to laugh outright at the Duke’s words. Apparently I’m not the only one who’s aware of Lady Eleanor’s longings.
‘My carriage was set upon by thieves,’ I explain. ‘Everything except the clothes on my back was stolen or destroyed. That stable-hand helped me find my way. His name is Gascon.’
The Duke’s hand gestures towards me. ‘There you are, Eleanor. Are you satisfied?’
He’s bitter, but his attitude is not my concern. It’s thegirl I’m here to worry about. ‘When shall I meet the young lady?’ I ask.
The Duke raises his eyebrows at Lady Eleanor, who runs up a nearby flight of stairs. Her departure fills the spacious hall with the most awkward silence, as the Duke stares out of a window to the courtyard beyond, content to say nothing.
‘Excuse me, my lord, may I ask where I shall be staying?’
He taps his finger repeatedly on the stone ledge before him. I wonder if he’s going to bother replying. Eventually he turns his head, ‘No doubt Eleanor will have organised a chamber for you.’ He waves dismissively at Arkarian outside. ‘The boy can go to the stables. Old François will show him where he can stay.’
He looks away, discouraging further conversation. Lady Eleanor returns with the Duke’s daughter and my attention quickly re-focuses. Charlotte seems small for her age, and thin, with pale skin, huge blue eyes, and a mop of blonde ringlets. I fall in love with her on sight, feeling drawn to this beautiful child with the sorrowful eyes and small down-turned mouth. I get on my knees to be at her height. ‘Hello, Miss Charlotte.’
She answers me with nothing but a drooping head and silence, her thumb tucked into her mouth. She rocks on her heels and looks to the stairway.
Take it slowly, I tell myself, and try again. ‘My name is Phillipa, and I’m going to be your—’ I don’t finish my words as my attention is seized by a series of thumping sounds coming from behind her. I look across
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