Hellos…

Kelly insisted on a small ceremony, much to Annora’s chagrin, though she managed to keep that hidden from him. She had anticipated a lavish affair that would show off the wealth and power of the match. A Ceanian nobleman! Her friends would be full of envy. Lothaerid seemed locked in a subtle battle of prestige with Ceania and Ceania was always on the verge of winning. Annora knew that the marriage of her daughter to one of the noblemen would be looked at with envy, but talked about with contempt. The contempt didn’t bother her if the motivation behind it was jealousy. But now, her youngest daughter was being whisked off and she wasn’t going to get to show her off to their social circle, wouldn’t get to bask in the coveting looks. It was almost enough to make her pout. Almost. The saving grace was that she could still brag, which she did anytime she was presented with the opportunity.
Aislin sat on the sofa, her teacup held in front of her, while her mother prattled on about her future son-in-law. She tried to breathe deeply and stay calm. Even Kelly’s droning and inane laugh was preferable to this. It still shocked her that she had ultimately agreed to marry him. While that would not have mattered to her parents, she knew, she had been deeply gratified that Kelly had sought her acceptance before agreeing to the match. Between that and the kiss…well, maybe this marriage wouldn’t be so bad. She smiled slightly and took a sip of her tea, which was now cold. She barely noticed, her thoughts becoming occupied with her future husband.
She had only been in his presence two times since their engagement, and both times there had been almost no interaction between them. Once had been at ball and once had been when their engagement had been announced. His dandified behavior had embarrassed and irritated her and she spent both evenings frantically wondering what her life could be like with such a fool of a man. And then thoughts of that kiss would float through her mind.
“The Ceanian custom is to have a small affair,” her mother interjected into her thoughts. “A small ceremony. That’s how they do it across the border. Considered very stylish. Very stylish, indeed. Isn’t that right, Aisi?” Aislin had been thinking of Kelly’s mouth and could only stare at her mother in response. She hadn’t quite caught the question. Without noticing, her mother went on. “We didn’t want to offend Master McRae, so we agreed. That’s the only reason the wedding will be so small. And then Aislin will go live among the Ceanian royalty. Master McRae is a very close confidante of the Prince.” An awkward pause engulfed the ladies in the room as Annora fell silent. Aislin watched with mean amusement. Lothaeridian upper class tried not to care about Ceanian culture because of their whole-hearted acceptance of magic. But Ceania was a very wealthy nation and Lothaerid had long felt a certain craving envy of her rich northern neighbors. Aislin enjoyed as the ladies sitting in her mother’s parlor squirmed slightly with discomfort, no one wanting to openly applaud or disparage the match. She was on the verge of laughing out loud as the awkwardness stretched on when it was suddenly interrupted by the maid coming in to clean up tea. Una followed right behind her.
“Master McRae is here to see Miss,” she said in a disapproving tone. She had witnessed their kiss the other night and let Aislin know that she thoroughly condemned such things before marriage. Aislin smiled at her and stood. She pretended that her heart didn’t jump a tiny bit at the announcement.
“Well, I mustn’t keep Master McRae waiting,” she said, eager to make an escape. Without waiting for anyone to say anything more, she glided from the room.
She walked into the foyer, where her future husband’s tall form greeted her as he stood with his back turned. For just a moment, she paused and admired what she saw. He was leaning against a wall, one foot crossed over the other and one hand in his pocket. He wore simple linen pants and a loose jacket, with shoes instead of boots. He looked very…Ceanian, which was to say, casual. Lothaeridian custom heavily focused on the appearance of things and when one went out, they were dressed in their finest. She noticed he was looking around the foyer. After realizing that he had been kept waiting all this time, she felt a slight embarrassment that he had not been shown into the parlor. After all, they weren’t village people. Though she would never admit it, her mother’s desire to impress the rich Ceanian had rubbed off on her. Intending to apologize for the rudeness, she greeted him and offered him a smile and her hand.
“Kelly, how lovely that you are here. I’m sorry you were kept waiting…” her voice trailed off as she realized she had used his given name right to his face. She flushed. He took her proffered hand and lifted it up, keeping his eyes on hers as he pressed his lips to her fingertips. His eyes were full of intensity as he gazed at her and she was struck once again with the feeling that he was hiding something from her, from the entire world. A sharp desire to know what it was cut through her.
“Hello, my darling,” he greeted her, suddenly cavalier as he released her hand. “I thought I would see if you wished to have tea with me today.” She gave a startled laugh.
“Have tea with you? Just the two of us?” She laughed again. It was an improper suggestion, something his grin suggested he already knew. “I’m not sure my mother would allow it.”
“Well, she doesn’t have to know,” he said teasingly. She looked at him harder, struggling to tell if he was being serious or not. He smiled flirtatiously.
“I highly doubt Una would be amenable…,” she began, but when she noticed he was moving closer to her, the thought evaporated.
“She doesn’t have to know, either,” he said in a seductively low voice. Aislin blushed again and averted her eyes, missing the look of delight in his.
When he was within reach, he put his left hand on her waist and gently pulled her closer to him. Her heart did a flip again and she let herself be drawn toward him. As she got closer, her face tilted up toward his, but he only looked, his own face mere inches away. His nearness made it hard for her to breathe and she found that she was waiting. His right hand came up and held her chin while his thumb softly stroked her lips, but still, he made no move to kiss her. She was entirely entranced.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together during the past two occasions. I’ve been wishing to see you,” he whispered.
“I’ve come to see if my miss needs anything,” Una’s voice broke through and Aislin jumped. Kelly gave her one last look before stepping quickly away, putting appropriate space between them, and looking like a caught child.
“No, Una. I don’t need you currently.” Aislin felt slightly annoyed that her protective maid had interrupted them and she realized she had been hoping for another electric kiss. Her mind felt like she was just waking up, slowly becoming aware of the rest of the world. If she didn’t know any better, she might be worried that he was putting her heart in some danger. Una gave a stiff curtsy and an openly disapproving look at Kelly before clicking out of the room. She was certainly not concerned about impressing him, but rather seemed to think he should be attempting to sway her. Aislin looked over at him, worried for a moment that he felt uncomfortable, but his eyes quickly found hers again as Una loudly left the room. Even her footsteps sounded disapproving, Aislin thought with a laugh.
“Your maid seems to have a dislike for me,” he stated, humor outlining his voice. His facial expression was serious, however, and she attempted to accurately interpret his behavior.
“She’s protective. She has been watching over me since I was a child.” She kept her voice light and uncaring, waving her hand in a dismissive manner as she spoke, indicating how seriously he should take Una’s dislike of him.
He nodded, but said nothing, only watched Aislin with a steady gaze. The weight of his gaze made her squirm slightly. What did he expect from her now? She was unable to meet his eyes. His face gave no indication of what he was thinking and her fluster grew. She had never met a man like him before, one moment simpering like a fool and the next, entirely unfathomable.
“Would you care to sit in the parlor?” she asked, finally remembering that they had been standing in the foyer of the manor this entire time. He smiled and inclined his head so Aislin, deciding to take that in the affirmative, sailed past him. She kept her head high and hoped that she was as mysterious to him as he was to her. He followed her out of the foyer and into the parlor, where she indicated that he was welcome to choose anywhere to sit. He walked to the sofa and stood, manners dictating that he remain on his feet until the lady in his presence was seated. Aislin shut the door behind her, feeling a delicious rebellion in the simple act, and chose the seat nearest him. As she lowered herself onto her chair, she smiled at him. She felt a thrill shoot through her when he suddenly slid over, sitting on the sofa right next to her. The next moment brought a rush of irritation at her almost giddy feeling of having his attention. What was going on with her? She had never behaved this way. Her mind frantically tried to land on a topic of conversation, but nothing at all seemed interesting.
“Tell me what you have planned for this afternoon,” he said, his voice quiet. She looked at him, not even realizing she was leaning in, and tried to organize her thoughts so she could remember what she was doing later. All amusement had melted from his face as he looked at her, his eyes black and hot. She had never felt so uncomfortable in such a pleasant way before. Desperate to be in some sort of physical contact with him, she reached over and laid a small hand on his thigh. Then she blushed at her own boldness and began to pull it away, her gaze averted with embarrassment. He put his own hand over hers, gently holding it, and she looked at him in surprise. The look in his face so matched what she was feeling, she grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him to her, pressing her mouth to his. It was impulsive, reckless, and he was caught entirely off guard. For a moment, she controlled the kiss, but he quickly regained himself and, letting go of the hand that he held, he placed his own on each side of her face. The kiss deepened and Aislin was lost in it completely, leaning in and opening herself to him. Both hands now gripped the front of his jacket.
After several moments, he pulled back and pushed his forehead against hers.
“Careful, my darling,” he said in a strained voice. “We don’t want to go too far.”
“Who says?” she said petulantly and tried to pull him to her again. He laughed and stood up, obviously trying to put some distance between them. She followed him, but he walked over and opened the parlor door.
“I do,” he replied, standing in the now-open doorway. She could only look at him with a mix of emotions, suddenly feeling it was a very unfortunate thing for her that he had awakened something in her she had not even suspected was there.

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Future Plans

After learning of the death of the Blair family, Aislin had gone to her room and stayed there for the entire day, refusing to join her parents for meals. Una brought her plates of food, which she was unable to touch and which caused the faithful servant to tsk with worry as she carried those plates away. For days, Aislin sat in her room. She cried on and off, grieving her friend and the innocent lives that had been taken, as well as giving in to bouts of guilty anger for the careless role she had played in those deaths. Finally, one morning, her mother marched in.

“Get up!” she ordered, her voice cold. She stared down at her daughter who was prostrate in bed. Aislin ignored her. Annora walked over and yanked the curtains away from the windows, letting the daylight pour in. Aislin pulled the blankets over her head.

“Aislin, get up. I have news.” Annora was again standing in the middle of the room. At her words, Aislin poked her head out from under the covers.

“What news?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you at breakfast.” And with that, Annora left the room. Aislin was tempted to pull her blankets back over her head and stay in bed, but soon her curiosity got the best of her. Though she still felt angry and horrible over what had happened to the Blairs, she knew that she would be forced to rejoin the world at some point. Apparently, that point had arrived. She climbed out of bed and Una helped her dress and ready her hair. Everything about her was a tangled mess so it took some doing. When Una was done pulling and patting her into submission, she turned and studied her reflection in her mirror. Though she was still ghostly pale, she felt much better than she had in days. She left her room and headed down to the dining hall.

            The Gorman manor was grand, but not large. Elaborately decorated, it showed off the wealth of the family without being gaudily ostentatious. Annora had an excellent and discerning sense of style. The staircase that Aislin drifted down was wide and airy, giving the feeling that the manor was much bigger than it actually was. As she walked into the dining hall, she found that she was increasingly curious about what news her mother might have for her. The dark wood of the room gave it warmth that was comforting without drowning out the light. Annora was just finishing up her coffee, sitting with both elbows on the table as she cradled her coffee cup in both hands in front of her face. She watched across the table as Aislin walked into the room.

“Ah! I’m so glad you could join me,” she said and Aislin could not tell if she was being sarcastic or not. Without saying anything, Aislin sat, waving Hill and a plate of eggs and potatoes away with a grimace. She would never be able to eat such a heavy breakfast. As Hill went to leave the hall with Aislin’s food, Una marched in and took the plate from the younger servant. Without any ceremony, she set the plate down in front of Aislin and handed her a fork.

“Your breakfast, Miss,” she said in a commanding tone. Aislin looked up into Una’s face, saw the grim set of her mouth, and took the fork. Without further protest, she took a bite of eggs. With a humph of satisfaction, Una left the room. At this point, Annora, who had detachedly watched the entire episode play out, set her cup down and took a breath.

“Aislin, darling, I wanted to tell you that your father and I have decided on a marriage partner for you.” The bite of potato stuck in Aislin’s throat as she attempted to swallow it down.

“What? Why?”

“Because it is time. Your father has found an excellent match for us.”

“For us?” Aislin repeated sarcastically, which her mother pretended not to hear. “Who is it?”

“He is having dinner with us tonight. A rich Ceanian!” Annora delightedly clasped her hands in front of her as she spoke, looking at Aislin expectantly. When it became clear from Aislin’s blank look that she did not share in her mother’s delight, Annora huffed and lowered her hands.

“You could at least say thank you,” she snapped, her voice hovering on the edge of anger. Incredulity blossomed in Aislin.

“Say thank you? For what exactly? You should thank me! For being beautiful enough for a rich Ceanian to want to marry. Seems like a wonderful match for you.” Annora gave an exasperated sigh and threw up her hands as she stood from the table.

“I give up, Aislin! You are never happy with anything I try to do for you! Your father wanted to marry you to another Cabinet member’s son!” With those last irritated words ringing in her ears, Aislin could do nothing more than sit and look at the cold lumps of potato and eggs sitting on her plate.

_____________________________

            Una had come up to help Aislin dress for dinner and offer what small comforts she could to her beloved mistress. She helped Aislin fight the fabric of her dinner gown as they worked her into it, the squeeze of her corset almost making her pass out.

“You will look lovely in this blue,” Una said comfortingly. Aislin stood in front of her looking glass, watching her reflection as Una arranged her hair on top of her head. Dark strands trailed down her neck while Una tried to control the curls. When she took her hands away, Aislin gave her a head a slight shake, trying to settle the pile on her head. When it all fell to where it wanted, Una reached up, attempting to force it back to how it was, but Aislin ducked away.

“Let it be, Una!” she said in a laughing tone. Her maid finally nodded, though she still looked like she was planning an attack so Aislin quickly left her room and headed down to the parlor. She knew her future husband had already arrived and shewas only moments away from having her mother angrily march up and hurry her downstairs. Annora had been insufferable all day in her anxiety about the dinner. Aislin had discovered through pretended disinterest that the match had not actually been made yet. Her father was planning to arrange the deal tonight at the dinner.

            As Aislin walked into the parlor behind the servant who held the door open for her, she held her head high, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. She hoped she looked intimidating. Aware of the man, who stood as she entered, she turned and looked at her mother, her back entirely to their guest. Annora gave a nervous laugh and looked beseechingly at the man, trying to brush past Aislin’s silent rudeness. Finally, Annora put her hand on Aislin’s shoulder, forcing her to turn toward the man.

“Sir, Padrig and I would like to present our daughter to you. This is Aislin Gorman.” Aislin’s eyes were on the floor, but as her mother spoke, she finally raised them to the man standing in front of her. She did not know what she expected to find. Perhaps she had no expectations, only hopes.

            Ceallach McRae was a towering figure. His broad shoulders made him look even bigger than he was and, as his eyes held hers, Aislin felt her entire existence shift around her for a moment. But it all righted itself when he began to speak. As was often the case, any sense of awe one felt when gazing upon his six-foot four frame was dispelled as soon as he opened his mouth. This time was no different. His mannerisms were foppish, conveying the most awful sense of foolish self-importance. He bowed dramatically low as Annora finished speaking and Aislin dropped into a dainty curtsy.

“Ah, wonderful to make your acquaintance finally,” he stated, his tone curated to the point of absurdity. He gave the very distinct impression of someone who had just come into new money and was attempting to act as though he was old money. It was immediately clear that he was a fop, a fool. The intense attraction she had almost been overwhelmed by was replaced with a horrified disgust and she looked at her mother. Annora had a smile plastered to her face.

“Aislin, perhaps you would like to offer Master McRae a drink?”

“No, I would not,” she said testily and perched herself on the sofa, refusing to look at him again.

“Please, call me Kelly,” he said and laughed obnoxiously. He seemed entirely at ease despite her pointed rudeness and Aislin was sure it was because he was far to dense to feel nervous. Annora smiled pleasantly at him, then turned a sharp glance to Aislin.

“Aislin, please offer Kelly a drink,” she stated, her voice even and controlled. Tempting as it was to keep pushing her mother, she knew that it would ultimately be a bad idea. She gave a momentary pout, then stood and walked over to Kelly, who had sat down in his chair when Aislin sat.

“Would you care for a drink, Master McRae?” He grinned, clearly amused that she refused to call him Kelly.

“I would love one… Aislin.” Her face flushed and anger flooded through her. How dare he use her given name without an invitation? In her moment of fluster, she could not ask him what he would like to drink. He waited for a moment, then simply offered the information, still grinning at her like a buffoon. “A tea twist would be wonderful.” Aislin did not return his smile. She turned away with disdain and sent the maid out to fetch the refreshments.

            The conversation dragged after the maid came back with their drinks. Aislin sipped her wine, letting it sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing, while she listened to her mother make the most inane observations to Kelly, who would nod and respond as if it were the most insightful thing he had heard all night. Aislin could see from the set of her mother’s jaw that Annora was angry. And she knew why. She had not participated in any way in any part of the conversation since drinks had arrived. She had sat sullenly for a full 20 minutes without saying anything. When dinner was announced, her mother took her father’s arm, leaving Kelly to escort Aislin into the dining hall. As tempting as it was to simply walk away without him, she knew that she had pushed her mother far enough for one evening. She took his proffered arm and let him lead her to her seat at the table.

“Oh, what a lovely couple you two make!” her mother gushed as Kelly helped her into her chair. She glowered at Annora and Kelly gave another one of his irritating laughs.

“Any attractive part of us as a couple would certainly be to the credit of your beautiful daughter,” he said gallantly and Aislin cringed. Everything about him was so over the top. Was this really who he was? She could not imagine living the remainder of her life tied to such a man. Dinner went much the way drinks had gone. Aislin was miserably bored. Instead of paying attention to their guest, she planned out a strategy on how to talk her parents out of forcing her to marry such a fool. Conversation continued through dessert and, finally, as the last of the dishes were cleared, Aislin breathed a slight sigh of relief. It was over. He would go home now and marriage talk had never even been brought up. Suddenly Annora perked up, as though she had just had the most brilliant idea occur to her.

“It is such a beautiful evening,” she commented. “Perhaps you would allow Aislin to show you our gardens?” Horror-struck, Aislin could only watch as Kelly also brightened at the idea. He turned to her and smiled.

“That sounds brilliant,” he assented.

“Mother, it would be entirely inappropriate for me to be alone—.” She was unable to finish her thought as Annora interrupted.

“Too true. That might be pushing decorum,” she said in a thoughtful voice. “Of course, if you were promised…” Her voice trailed off and Padrig picked up where she had left off.

“We would be delighted, Kelly, to offer you our daughter’s hand in marriage.” It had all happened so abruptly; Aislin didn’t even have a chance to protest. She looked at Kelly, whose eyebrows were raised in surprise. Aislin got the impression that his surprise was very genuine. He leaned back in his chair.

“It seems an extreme thing to get engaged just to see the gardens,” he said and Aislin thought she could hear laughter in his voice. She nodded in agreement.

“Yes, absolutely,” she agreed, keeping her comment to herself that this was the first reasonable thing he had said all night. Annora looked at Padrig and Aislin could see the question in her eyes. Had they misjudged Kelly’s interest in Aislin? She started to stand up from the table, attempting to keep her triumph from her face, when Kelly spoke again.

“Perhaps Aislin and I could speak alone?” he asked. She froze and looked at her mother. Didn’t they all just agree that it would be inappropriate for her to be alone with him unless they were engaged? Her mother chose to ignore the inconsistency and nodded.

“Of course!” she responded eagerly. Kelly stood now, too, and offered his arm to Aislin.

“We can walk on the path which will keep us in sight of the house. I don’t think that is pushing decorum too far,” he justified and Annora and Padrig nodded. Aislin was beaten. She accepted his arm and he led her outside.

            Once they were walking on the path, it was almost pleasant. The night was cool and the air was fresh. The stars blinked down at them. Far off in the distance, she could hear the twirping and jangling of lumberbees and ghostiflies. It was peaceful. They walked silently for a few moments more, and then Kelly took a breath.

“I would be willing for the marriage to take place,” he said. His voice was quiet, with none of the affectations that had irked Aislin all evening. She looked up at him as he stopped walking and turned her to face him. She felt her attraction to him flicker, her earlier anger unable to kill it off entirely.

“We do not even know each other,” she responded. He smiled and tilted her face up so he could look her full in the face.

“Well, isn’t that what marriage is for?” Aislin was silent for a moment and Kelly spoke again. “Marry me,” he whispered. Her stomach fluttered and she tried to swallow. He really was very attractive. And truly, what more could she ask for?

“I want to know who you are. It seems like you have a mask. Why? What is behind the mask?” she asked, her whisper matching his. He smiled again and for a moment, Aislin couldn’t breathe. Then he leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. Lost in the moment, Aislin raised her mouth to his, but he stopped, hovering only centimeters from her.

“Marry me and find out,” he answered. Then he kissed her.        

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A Grave Misunderstanding

The maid’s quick knock before walking through the door was what woke Aislin. She had been having a nightmare that she had been turned to stone, but could still see and hear everything going on around her. With a gasp, she sat upright as the maid pulled the heavy fabric of the bedroom curtains open and sunlight streamed in, its warmth immediately soothing away the last remnants of horror that tried to keep an embrace over Aislin. She climbed out of the bed, her nightgown twisted around her.

“Is breakfast ready, Una?” she asked the maid, holding her arms over her head to indicate she was ready to have her night clothes removed so she could get ready for the day.

“Aye, miss,” the maid nodded. She was an older woman who had been in the employ of the Gorman family since Aislin was a child. Though her words were respectful, she was very motherly about the way she approached and spoke to Aislin. Una expertly yanked the nightgown over Aislin’s head, leaving her momentarily disoriented. She brushed her hair away from her face as Una guided her toward the hot water bath. The steam swirled around her and she dipped her hand in to test the temperature. As she climbed into the bathwater, she gave a deep sigh.

“Everything all right?” Una asked her as she began the process of scrubbing Aislin down with a vigorousness that Aislin knew would leave her skin red.

“Yes, I’m fine. What do I have today, Una?” she looked at the maid hopefully. She absolutely hated a day with nothing in it. Una was busy with her washing and only glanced at Aislin’s face.

“I believe you and your mother were supposed to have tea with the Blairs today, but they were arrested last night.”

“Arrested? Why?” The shock of Una’s statement rippled through Aislin’s body and she felt cold despite the heat of the bath water.

“Someone accused them of treason against the Cabinet. Consorting with Se Grene.” Una had finished washing Aislin as she spoke and helped her to stand up, the water pouring down her body as she did so. The cold deepened and Aislin shivered. With quick, concise movements, Una stepped over, grabbed a thick towel from a cabinet, and wrapped her young mistress up. Aislin could feel the unnatural heat from the towel seep into her body, chasing away the cold from the dread that had just descended. She had always suspected Una of some slight magic abilities because of little things such as this, but she kept her mouth shut. Even the slightest magical abilities would lead to arrest and execution in Lothaerid. The Minister was very vocal about the need to eradicate magic in Lothaerid and, with Padrig a senior Cabinet member, Una would be shown no mercy.

“Who accused them?” Aislin’s thoughts turned back to Lyssa and Eduard. Una stilled for a moment. Her eyes met Aislin’s momentarily before she gave her head one quick shake.

“I didn’t hear,” she said, refusing to meet Aislin’s gaze again.

“Una,” Aislin said reproachfully. “I know you’re lying. You hear everything. Who accused them? Someone I know?” But Una would only shake her head, her mouth set in a thin, tight line as she rushed Aislin through dressing and hair styling. Her maid’s silence irritated Aislin, but she knew nothing would get the old lady to say anything more. She would have to find out the desired information through a different source.

            At last, she was dressed and ready for her day. She left Una tidying her room and went downstairs for breakfast. As she walked into the dining hall, her mother was sitting at the table, eating a pastry that smelled amazing and reading from the news pamphlet that was delivered to every house every morning. This pamphlet was an important way for the Cabinet to get information out to the people, telling them what to think before they started forming ideas of their own. Annora was so absorbed in what she was reading, she did appeared not to hear her daughter come into the room.

“Mother, why were the Blairs arrested last night?” Aislin’s question suddenly breaking the silence startled Annora and she jumped. She turned and looked at Aislin.

“Goodness, Aislin! You gave me such a fright!” Annora’s voice was slightly breathless. She turned back to the pamphlet.

“It’s in the news this morning. Apparently, they were accused of helping Se Grene.” Her mother gave a shiver. “Just think about how close we have become with them over this past year. We could have gotten ourselves caught up in something very sinister, indeed! Their association could have ruined us!” Aislin shook her head in slight disbelief.

“This accusation is a death sentence, Mother,” she scolded. Sometimes her mother’s callousness appalled her.

“Any arrest is a death sentence these days,” Annora murmured as she continued reading.

“Who accused them?” Aislin asked. Annora ignored her daughter, continuing to read the pamphlet as she slowly put bits of pastry into her mouth and chewed.

“Mother!” Annora sighed, put the pamphlet down, and looked at Aislin. A warm pride spread through her as she looked at her lovely daughter. She was the most beautiful girl in the kingdom. Everyone said so. They would make a very beneficial attachment from her.

“Your father did not mention where he got the information about the Blairs,” she said evenly. Aislin sat down slowly as the meaning of her mother’s words sank in.

“Father turned them in?” she asked in a very quiet voice. Her mother only gave a half-hearted shrug and went back to reading the news. Tears pricked at Aislin’s eyes as she sat in icy stillness. Lyssa was her friend, one of her very few. The tears hovered on the edge of release, but Aislin had learned long ago not to show weakness in front of anyone. She closed her eyes and imagined her heart encased in stone. The prickling sensation slowly faded. Her eyes opened. Hill had come into the dining hall. When Aislin looked at her, she dropped into a curtsy.

“Would Miss like me to bring some breakfast?” she asked. The smell of maple and molasses wafted out of the kitchen as the door swung closed. Aislin’s stomach growled.

“No, I’m not hungry.” She couldn’t fathom eating breakfast like it was just another normal day. As Hill left the room, her father strode in. He settled himself at the table, a satisfied air about him as Annora handed him the news.

“Father, who accused the Blairs?” Aislin started in right away. Her father remained unperturbed as he started to read the pamphlet. Without even bothering to look at her, he muttered, “You did.” Flabbergasted, Aislin’s jaw dropped.

“What do you mean I did? I never accused them!” Now her father did look at her, his expression filled with annoyance.

“You told me that you suspected the Blairs of being Se Grene sympathizers, what with the wife always wearing green feathers or some such nonsense.” Aislin’s astonishment turned to fury.

“I was being facetious! I said that to make fun of how easy it is to get someone arrested! I…it was never….” Her voice trailed off as her anger choked her words. Her father watched her placidly and when she fell silent, he gave a single shrug.

“Well, I thought you were accusing them and I take my daughter very seriously. Perhaps you should watch what you say in the future.”

“You must get them released!”

“Oh, it’s too late for that. The entire family was executed for treason early this morning.” Now Aislin could not keep her tears down. Not wishing her parents to see the depth of her anguish, she got up and fled the room.  

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No Escape

The soldiers came during the night. The pounding on the door awoke Eduard into a jarred state of mind. He jumped out of bed to investigate, the cold quickly seeping into his bare feet. He could hear that the soldiers had already crashed through the heavy wooden door.

“Eduard?” his wife’s trembling voice came to him in the dark. “What’s happening?” She sounded on the verge of tears.

“It’s alright, Lyssa. I’ll see what they want.” By now, the captain was standing at the bottom of the stairs, shouting his name. He was surrounded by the soldiers in his command. The shouting woke Eduard’s two sons and they made their way in frightened sleepiness to their parent’s bed. Eduard went to the top of the staircase and looked down. The captain was peering up, trying to discern Eduard’s figure in the uncompromising dark.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice sounding stronger than he was currently feeling.

“Eduard Blair, you and your family are under arrest.”

“Arrest!? For what? You cannot arrest us! Who has accused us and of what?” His questions came out in rapid succession, giving vent to his shock. He worked for the Cabinet, after all!

“You and your family are under arrest for conspiring against the operating government of Lothaerid. You are a known affiliate of Se Grene, who is considered to be an enemy of the state.” Eduard was stunned. A known affiliate? How did they know? Who had found out? His mind raced wildly, trying to think back over every interaction, every letter, anything that might have given him away. He thought he had been so careful.

“Papa?” The tiny voice brought his mind back and he cursed under his breath that he had not sent his wife and their two boys to Ceania ahead of him. When he told Lyssa he needed to finish up with some business before they crossed the border, she refused to go without him and he had given in to her. In truth, he planned to meet with Se Grene, who wrote and told him he was going to be in Lothaerid. Eduard thought he might have some evidence of a traitor in the Ceanian government and he was desperate to turn it over to Se Grene who would get it to the Prince. Ceania could be a powerful ally in his fight against the Cabinet. He was willing to do anything to take down this farce of a government that threatened to destroy Lothaerid and her people.

“You can come with us peacefully or not. But you and your family are coming with us.”

“Please. I will come with you. My family has no part of this. Let them go.” He and the soldiers all knew that he would not be alive for much longer after his arrest. “Please. Spare them.”

“Those are not our orders.” The captain’s voice was hard, angry, and he started up the stairs toward Eduard. Eduard met him halfway, trying to bar him from making it to the top.

“Lyssa!” he shouted as he struggled with the soldier. “Lyssa! Run! Take the boys and run!” His wife appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with fright. She screamed when she saw the soldier deliver a blow to Eduard that knocked him down the rest of the stairway. Immediately, the rest of the troop was upon Eduard, punching and kicking and pulling his arms behind him. He struggled as hard as he could but was forced to watch helplessly as the soldiers brought his wife and two children down the stairs, their faces tear-streaked and frightened. As they were carted away in the prison cart, he looked at his bedraggled, frightened family.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking from the intensity of his sorrow. They huddled around him, trying to draw comfort from each other. He knew that Se Grene would not make it in time.

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A Match Made in Heaven…or Not

Aislin sat on the hard sofa, the stiff fabric of her gown forcing her to sit with uncomfortable straightness. She unconsciously gripped her wine glass as she stared into the flames frenzying in the fireplace. All around her, women milled and talked, occasionally laughing, all dressed in the richest and brightest fabrics. The haute gowns matched the décor of the palatial room. It was enough to take one’s breath away, and when Aislin had first been introduced to society, it had. But now, she sat, angrily bored with all the finery and all the pretenses of the life around her. The fabric of her life was just as stiff and unforgiving as her dress. She sighed and took a small sip of the red wine in the crystal goblet clutched in her hand, the loud gossip of the Minister’s wife rousing her from her contemplation of the fire.

“He was so angry last night after the cabinet members left,” the Minister’s wife was saying, her chubby voice filling the empty space in the room so that all other conversation muted and everyone was turning to look at her. She smiled in satisfaction and continued. “Apparently, that Se Grene character has been at work again. They thought they caught him, but at the last moment, he made it over the border.” Everyone had hushed at the mention of Se Grene. The Minister’s wife stopped talking and looked around authoritatively. None of the other women spoke, but the woman to whom the minister’s wife had initially been talking to was nodding fearfully.

“That Se Grene,” she was muttering. “They just need to catch him before he causes too much harm.”

“Too much harm?!” An older woman with gray hair and sagging cheeks almost screeched indignantly from across the room. “From what I hear, he has done plenty of harm. All the traitors and defectors disappearing before they face justice! And that green feather left behind! Make no mistake! He mocks us!” She tsked while giving an audible shiver. Aislin looked quickly around. Every woman was hanging on the conversation, faces white and eyes wide with fear. The deeds of this Se Grene, the green one—so named for the green feather given to Lothaeridian officials to mark his frustrating successes, were so bold, so daring that they seemed to be carried out by supernatural means. And if Lothaeridians feared anything, it was magic. Aislin felt a shiver make its way up her insides and into her throat.

“What happened?” she asked, looking at the Minister’s wife, not letting the silence strengthen. She was desperate to hear more of the story. The Minister’s wife glanced at her, then addressed the room.

“The eagles went after him, but they came back empty-handed. The man they were chasing had entirely disappeared!” This caused some of the women to give small sounds of alarm.

“A magic-wielder!” the hushed whisper made its way around the room. This was as good a reason as any to condemn him to death. At this moment, the door swung open and the Minister appeared, followed by the other men of the party.

“Hello, my dear,” he said gallantly as he approached his wife, entirely unaware of the tension in the room. She offered her thick hand, the lace frills at her wrist blocking her husband’s lips from touching her skin. For a moment, he seemed to be trying to make his way past them, but finally gave up and straightened. The other men had all come in and approached the various wives and other women who caught their attention. The thrill that had engulfed Aislin from the conversation drained from her as she watched a young man approach her. He wore a gentle smile, the black of his eyes contrasting nicely with the light blue of his jacket. He’s handsome, she noted with disinterest. Aislin kept her gaze on him as he came to sit next to her. How many times had this exact scene played out? she wondered as conversation once again filled the room. The air felt heavy and suffocating as she looked at the man. She tried to smile, but it felt like more of a grimace so she looked away and quickly took another sip of wine. It burned ever so slightly as it slid down her throat and she focused on that, attempting to quell the ever-growing desire to scream.

“How are you, Aislin?” the young man asked her, having seated himself as close to her as propriety would allow. His knee just brushed hers. She finished her swallow of wine and turned her attention to him. She did not know his name, but it was not unusual for men she never noticed to know who she was.

“I’m well,” she said softly. The irritated boredom surged and she decided to play a little game. Let’s see how quickly I can get you to fall in love with me. These games were often the only thing that seemed to keep her from losing her mind. She turned to face him fully, giving him a brilliant smile. He seemed stunned, then quickly recovered himself, returning her smile and leaning toward her.

“These dinner parties are the worst, aren’t they?” he said in a low voice. Aislin gave a little laugh and tilted her head.

“Well, where else would I get to meet with such interesting men as yourself,” she purred back at him. His smile grew and he reached over and took her empty wine glass from her.

“Perhaps you would enjoy a walk in the gardens. We could get to know each other better,” he suggested, his eyes holding hers. She pretended to be scandalized.

“Sir!” she flirtatiously protested. “You cannot think that I would allow myself to go off alone with a man!” He opened his mouth to say something, his smile taking on a look of uncertainty, but before he could backpedal, Aislin’s mother called her name.

“Aislin, I wish for you,” her mother stated in a commanding tone. Disapproval beamed from her face as she looked at the young man. At first, Aislin did not move. She continued looking at the young man, the smallest smile on her face.

“Aislin!”

“I believe your mother is beckoning you,” the man said quietly, sufficiently cowed. Without a word, she stood and walked to her mother.

“Mama,” she greeted Annora.

“Sit by me,” Annora commanded, still casting captious glances at the young man who was desperately trying not to notice. Aislin’s father, Padrig, was a senior member of the Cabinet and the Gorman family had become very powerful. In the perilous times such as haunted Lothaerid currently, Annora’s disapproval could have significant repercussions. Aislin sank onto the sofa next to her mother, her dress billowing into a soft green cloud around them both. After that, Annora did not let Aislin leave her side.

            The evening dragged on, finally arriving to the end. Aislin stood slightly behind her mother and father as the family waited for their carriage. She was tired, but not from any sort of exertion since there had been minimal dancing and Annora had refused even that to her sullen daughter. Padrig was still in deep conversation with the Minister and other Cabinet members as they all stood in the foyer of the Minister’s grand manor and Aislin heard the words Se Grene more than once. At first, she attempted to listen to their conversation, but they really knew nothing about this mysterious Se Grene so she learned nothing that she did not already know. She tried to stifle a yawn. After what seemed an unacceptably long time, their carriage finally rolled up, the four massive black horses pawing the ground as they were pulled to a stop by the driver. After the family had been handed into the carriage and it started away from the manor, Padrig again began softly railing against Se Grene.

“How is he getting his information? He must have help!” he finally sputtered. Annora was nodding supportively.  

“There is most likely a spy in your circle, Papa. I saw Lyssa Blair with different colored feathers in her hair several weeks ago. One of them was green. It’s probably her.” Aislin’s voice was sarcastic and her father completely dismissed her, which she expected. She was tired of listening to his Se Grene rants. The Lothaerid government officials were all too busy trying to cement their power to discover who any intruder might be and the continual discussions with no action only further displayed their ineptness. Aislin glared momentarily at her father, then turned and stared out into the dark of the night as the carriage made its way to the Gorman manor.

            Long after they had reached home and Aislin was readied and tucked up in bed, Annora and Padrig were still awake.

“He was trying to get her to go walk the gardens with him.” Annora was looking meaningfully at her husband. The servants had already been in to help get them into their night clothes and Padrig had come in to say good night. It had been many years since he had stayed in her room with her for the night. She didn’t mind. Her words froze Padrig as he was turning toward the door that led back to his rooms.

“What do you mean? He was trying to take advantage of her?” Anger tinged his voice.

Annora shook her head, eager to keep her husband from his anger. There was no reason to ruin the life of this young man. “No, I think he just wanted to talk. But he was obviously trying to get her interested.” Now it was Padrig’s turn to shake his head at his wife’s narrative.

“Well, I suppose she is old enough to be married. We were married by her age,” he pointed out. Annora waited. She knew he did not mean she should have let Aislin take a walk with a low-ranking governmental clerk. He sat down on her bed, wrinkling the rich fabric of her bedspread.

“I’ve been thinking about which match would be the most beneficial to us,” he said contemplatively. “There are two Cabinet members whose sons would be a good match. I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” He looked at his wife and she nodded. This was the way in Lothaerid. Aislin might not be happy with whom her parents arranged for her to marry, but she knew that she had no choice. No daughter did.

            The next morning at breakfast, Padrig sat down at the table and looked at his daughter.

“Your mother and I have decided it is time to find you a husband,” he stated. His voice held no emotion. Aislin knew that whatever he felt for her would stay hidden. Lothaerid fathers were not overly affectionate, especially to their daughters. She watched her father while she set her spoon down in her oatmeal.

“Do I get to have some input?” she finally asked, trying to keep her anger from her voice. It wasn’t exactly unexpected that her parents would be thinking marriage for her now. She was already 21, but for some reason, the announcement still made her temperature rise. Though arranged marriages were the norm in Lothaerid, and even in Ceania, most parents did consult their daughters before simply marrying them off. Padrig shrugged at his daughter’s question, shaking out his napkin and picking up his fork.

“Liadain got to give input into your choice for her,” Aislin insisted.

“Liadain’s choice happened to coincide with our choice for her,” her father responded as he began to eat. Aislin could tell that as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. She stood from the table and walked away, leaving her oatmeal and her father. He barely seemed to notice.

            As Aislin left the dining hall where her father placidly ate his breakfast, her slippered steps echoed through the hallway she passed through. Sunlight poured in through the walls of windows, giving the hall a cheery appearance. She could hear her mother in the kitchen, discussing dinner with Ilfred and she directed her steps that way. Marching into the warm kitchen, the smell of baking confronted her. Despite her irritation with the news her father had dropped on her, she inhaled happily, the drifting rivulets of aroma flowing around her. Her unhappiness paused.

“Aisi-girl, what do you want?” Ilfred asked her when he saw her, his voice gruff and affectionate. She smiled at him and he handed her a piece of spice bread without waiting for her answer and she smiled some more and ate it. As a child, this scene had played out daily and she only now realized that it had been a long while since she had sought refuge in the kitchen under the loud fondness of Ilfred.

“Anyway, Cook,” Annora interrupted, bringing his attention back to her, “the roast fowl will be perfect for tonight. Something simple.” Ilfred heaved a sigh and nodded.

“A’right, Miz Gorman,” he said, his tone indicating that he was not entirely pleased. He hated simple dinners. After getting what she wanted, Annora looked at her daughter licking the remnants of the spice bread from her fingers like a child.

“Aislin, get a hold of yourself,” she commanded. This brought a frown to her daughter’s face and Aislin lowered her hand and gave her mother a hard look.

“Yes, Father told me that you two decided to go ahead and marry me off. I suppose licking my fingers will make finding a quality husband that much harder.” Her mother did not offer a response, so Aislin continued. “Do I get to have some input on this momentous decision? I would like to discuss this with you,” she said, anger seeping back into her voice and making it hard. Annora sighed like she was exhausted. Liadain had never been so demanding. She walked from the kitchen and Aislin followed her.

“Aislin, darling, you had to have known this was coming,” her mother started. At Aislin’s sound of protest, Annora raised her hand and stopped walking, turning to face her daughter. “You had to have known it was coming. Your father has some ideas about matches, but we are still discussing that. You may or may not be told when we have decided.” Her voice was straightforward and no-nonsense. When she finished speaking, she began walking again. Aislin ran to catch up, her face hot.

“Who are you considering?” she asked, but Annora only shook her head. Aislin stopped walking, giving up and letting her mother go. She felt tears trying to come, but she shook her head, refusing them.

“Marriage would probably be preferable to living here,” she muttered at her mother’s disappearing figure. To quell her anger, she went back to the kitchen, knowing Ilfred would give her more spice bread because he knew it was her favorite. When she left, she was taking him with her.

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The Prologue

He stood in the dark, peeking through the dirty curtain of the tiny inn room. No candles were lit and the night pressed around the derelict old building while the thud of running footsteps faded into the distance. The heavy air seemed to muffle any sounds that rattled down the cobbled street and his ears strained to hear around them. There was no shouting. Just running. Now he was hiding from those footsteps. He was the one they were after. His naked body did not feel the chill of the black night, but he had only taken on his human form a moment ago. It felt cumbersome after the tiny form of the bird. He had hopped shapes multiple times through the night as he ran from the soldiers, and now he was tired. Too low on energy to fund another shift. He stepped back from the curtain, melting into the dark as a shadow splashed across the window. After ensuring the figure continued into the night, he began desperately glancing around for something to wear. He flung open an old chest, unleashing a cloud of dust and moths into the air. He could taste the acrid dust as he pulled old, torn clothing from the chest. As quickly as he could, he began putting them on, his nose unconsciously wrinkling at the moth-eaten smell and feel. It would feel good to get home and into his impeccably cut silks that he much preferred to these old rags. But these old rags were necessary since he did not have the energy reserves to take on another form again. He would have to make his escape from Lothaerid as a human.

After dressing, he moved back to the window and peeked into the night again. He listened for a moment and, hearing nothing, gently pushed the wooden slats open and perched on the window opening. The curator of the inn was much too poor to afford glass windows. He had simply covered the openings with wood, as did almost everyone. Glass was a luxury few in Lothaerid could afford. After a moment of continued silence, he quietly jumped from the window and ran down the alley, searching for a path that would take him to the town stable unseen. He needed a horse to get him to the border. He briefly wished he could take the form on himself, but knew that the shift would use up the last of his energy funds. That would mean death. No, he would have to settle for procuring a horse instead. He slunk around a corner, moving as quietly and quickly as he could when he heard one of the few sounds that terrified him—the shriek of an eagle.

“There it is! The magic wielder!” A voice rang out through the black of the night as he glanced behind him and saw the eagle leap into the air. The Lothaerid eagles, big enough to take down a man, were bred to find magic-wielders, even shapeshifters, no matter the form they took, and they seldom failed. He could almost feel the slash of the talons. Jumping up from his crouch, he began running as fast as he could down the alley toward the village stables. The pounding of boots echoed close behind and he swerved around another building into another shadowy alleyway, but his attempted evasion was futile with the eagle in pursuit. It shrieked again and followed him behind the building, talons extended as it came in for a strike. He cried out in pain as the talons left a bloody gash in his shoulder, but he knew he had to keep moving. The eagle had tried to swoop around, but the space behind the building was too small and it was forced to find a landing spot and launch again. This gave him the time he needed to rush into another alley as he made his way toward the stables. He could hear the soldiers in the street, the high-pitched whistling they used to communicate with their birds piercing the air.

“We need another eagle!” he heard one of them finally shout. He paused momentarily, his chest heaving, and tried to gauge which way he should go next. He had lost the eagle for the moment, but the soldier’s shout made his blood run cold. It was highly unlikely he would be able to escape more than one eagle and he certainly would not survive a run-in with two. He crept to the edge of the alley and looked out. How far was he from the stables? He could see the thatched building that was housing the horses, peacefully sitting in the town square. He quickly pulled back behind the wall and took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. He was going to have to make a run for it. He had to get out of here before they brought in the second eagle. Jumping out into the street, he took off running as fast as he could, knowing his very life depended on it. He knew the rudducs would not allow him to survive capture. Not Se Grene. At first, he heard nothing, but he couldn’t risk slowing down enough to look behind him.

“There it is!” The shout was followed by the pounding of boots as soldiers jumped to the chase, but his head start was too long. He reached the building before they were able to launch the eagle, thudding into the heavy wooden door. The impact jarred him for a brief second. Shoving it open, the smell of hay and horses infiltrated his nostrils before he could make anything out in the pitch black that greeted him. He took a tentative step, trying to adjust his human eyes to the dark as quickly as he could. He moved swiftly to the first stall, his bare feet making no sound on the stone floor. He flung the door of the stall open and the horse inside gave a startled nicker. It was a young, brown stallion, pawing the ground with nervousness as he stood in the doorway of its stall. Perfect.

“Come here, friend,” he coaxed softly, letting none of his desperation creep into his voice. He didn’t want the horse to be too spooked to let him mount. He could hear the soldiers getting closer and he concentrated harder on remaining calm and soothing. The horse extended its snout, snuffling at his outstretched hand. “Good boy,” he whispered, softly petting its velvety snout.

            Just as the soldiers reached the stable doors, a horse came pounding out. Rearing up at them to get them out of its way, it came crashing down with a force that would have ended whoever was caught under its massive hooves. The soldiers quickly scattered, trying to avoid the flying hooves of the now-angry horse. It began to gallop away, its rider wildly spurring it on. One of the soldiers whistled, directing the eagle after the man. There had been no time to bring a second eagle in, not if they wanted to capture Se Grene. They waited, their eyes looking into the black after the horse, rider, and eagle. After many moments, they heard the screech of the eagle. Then its form came flapping its way back to them, empty-handed. The captain gave a vicious curse. Their quarry had gotten away.

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Welcome!

Hello! Welcome to my first blog post. My goal with this new blog is to have a place where I am able to showcase my writing.

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I want my blog to be a place where potential clients can find samples of my work, but I also want readers to enjoy the content that I create. With that in mind, I will have some samples of professional writing I have done, and I will also post serialized stories that I am working on just for fun. Hopefully, there will be something for everyone!

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