Summary: Areena had a good life, and until her father tried to sell her off to the highest bidder, she never realized that it was a prison. So, she went outside. Just for a little while, a small rebelion against her father, never knowing that it started a domino effect of things beyond her control. One small choice will change her world forever.
Categories: Books,
Original Fiction Characters: Original Character(s)
Classification: Alternate Universe
Genre: Action-Adventure , Comedy , Drama, Erotica, Family, Fantasy, Friendship, Historical, Horror, Inspirational, Mystery
Story Status: Active
Pairings: Original
Warnings: Work in Progress
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4
Completed: No
Word count: 10187
Read: 16421
Published: May 21 2014
Updated: October 06 2014
1. Prologue by AJ_96
2. Freedom by AJ_96
3. Clara by AJ_96
4. Close Call by AJ_96
Never look back, unless you're planning to go that way.
H.D. Thoreau
PROLOGUE
My father was coming back.
I sank into my red high-backed chair and read the letter again. He seemed to want to have dinner with me on the morrow when he returned home from Silvia. To be precise, it read:
'Areena, I ask that you come to the main dining hall and have dinner with me on the eve of my return to Thornhill Manor.'
I frowned and leaned forward on the mahogany desk, resting my chin on my palm. Well, it was short but to the point, much like the man himself. I momentarily played with the thought that perhaps this was a prank but quickly discarded it as no one else had this handwriting. I hadn't been to the main dining hall in a while, for it was much too big for me to eat alone. We only use that for special occasions and when my father's acquaintances come over.
Now, what could he possibly want?
I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had dinner with him, just the two of us. Usually, he acted as if I didn't even exist, and to be quite honest, that worked quite well for me. He only called upon me when he wanted me to go to some party, or rebuke me for acting in an undignified manner, and even then he would barely talk to me.
I tried to recall if I had done something that could have warranted such a visit. Hmm, let's see, I fell asleep during political science again, but that was hardly anything new, and I doubt Mr. Hector even noticed, as the man was known to drone on and on about such things regardless of the fact that the victims – excuse me, students – had long been asleep.
I went through all the parties I'd been to recently, wondering if I had somehow sullied my father's name, but they were all quite drab, the most exciting thing that had happened all week was that the Betrik family had gone bankrupt – which was hardly surprising, considering how fond of the gaming hells Sir Betrik was - and that a new upstart had arrived from Parga.
Father would hardly be bothered by something like that.
My father – Count Roland Hartsworth – was a man whose importance in the city of Asarel was, perhaps, above even his significant title; in fact most would say he is even more influential than the President himself. Corul was the only island where those from Marook could rest for supplies and go west to the lands of Rakner. Asarel was the main port on the eastern side and hence, saw quite a bit of traffic. Harleum was the western port, but while it was boisterous, it was smaller than Asarel.
He was a very busy man. I knew that. I didn't begrudge him for that. Hence, I wasn't used to having a great many conversations with him. My childhood was based on the idea that children are to be properly behaved and out of sight. This may have caused for some loneliness, but there were far worse things that can happen within a family. My father had few vices, and money was never something I had to worry about, unlike some other families.
My education was spotless, as I was the sole heir of my father's considerable wealth. I was taught a variety of classes including riding, fencing, politics, history and others that were usually reserved for the male members of the family. I knew my place in the world and what was expected of me.
However, growing up listening to stories about faraway lands and adventures from the numerous travelers that passed by led me to be somewhat overly fond of the world outside the beautiful Island of Corul. The library was my favorite place and stocked full of journals – mainly of the continent of Eluhie and its diverse cultures. There was Marook in the east, which was the closest country to our shores, and it's borders were Silvia and Parga, then Tamara in the north and Corcena in the southern portion. But the farther lands were obscure and not very well known yet.
Mary's life outside the mansion was also interesting. She was the closest thing I had to a mother and the stewardess of the mansion, who took care of its day-to-day running of the main house. She told me about how the people of Asarel pride themselves on hard work and honor.
Back to the matter at hand – this letter was perplexing. I didn't know why, but it made me uneasy. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it would not be pleasant.
.~*~.
My father was already seated when I entered. I sat on the opposite end of the dining table with father, still mildly shocked that he was even there. He was just as I remembered him - calm and indifferent. His black hair had a few more streaks of grey in it but he still looked as imposing and dignified as ever. His eyes were the same hard green with a coldness in them that made me feel like I was looking at a stranger. It always surprised me how different my eyes were, as compared to his.
How strange it felt, to not know your own blood. The large dining table separated us, but there was a much larger space that had nothing to do with physical measurement.
The room was large enough to fit a crowd of fifty comfortably and the dining table at its center was long as long enough to fit twenty. As it was rarely used, the air was slightly musty, but all the silver was meticulously polished and the room itself was spotless. Mary was very efficient.
So why was it that I felt a sudden chill?
I drank red wine to calm my nerves somewhat. We barely spoke as the meal passed. He was not one for polite chitchat, my father – at least, not with me. Rupert, Mary's husband, had done a marvelous job of preparing dinner – roast beef with potatoes and beans, along with various assortments of cheese and fruits, but I barely tasted any of it.
My suspicions were steadily growing worse every minute that he disregarded me. Not that this was particularly unusual, but that feeling in my gut telling me something bad was going to happen was growing stronger.
Father, frank and assertive as always, wasted no time with pleasantries and went straight into the heart of the matter immediately, "Areena, as you are of marriageable age now, I think it is time you find yourself a suitable husband."
That was such an abrupt beginning, that I had to blink in shock for a few moments to gather my bearings. I brought my tablecloth to the corner of my mouth and wiped it and calmed myself down. I had known this day was approaching for some time now. Love marriages were for commoners, not nobility. However, his nonchalant attitude rubbed me the wrong way and I felt the first stirrings of anger.
"Who am I to wed?" I asked in a measured tone after I got a hold of myself.
He finished his last bite of the main course, and wiped the ends of his mouth with a pristine white napkin, and said, "There are many offers. It seems that the Duke of Harleum has taken quite an interest in you, but there is still some time left before your seventeenth birthday. The final decision will be taken then."
I went pale at the mention of the Duke. The rumors about his under-handed deeds and power were wide-spread. He had been accused of everything from corruption to slavery and God knows what else.
"I will not marry that scoundrel. Father, please. You know the rumors surrounding him. How could you want me to marry into that?" I asked him, distraught.
"He is wealthy and has a grand title. This will cement my ties to him and be mutually beneficial. However, the final decision will be made at your party," he said sipping his wine.
"Father, surely nothing good would come out of such a union. That man is the Devil incarnate! You, yourself, have spoken against him many a times. It could ruin our reputation."
He finally looked at me then, his sharp green eyes flashing, "Do not forget your place, child. He is one of the wealthiest men you will ever meet. Such a union is bound to be profitable," he said, his voice no different from before.
He set the glass down and read the paper that his manservant – Gustav – handed him.
I had been dismissed.
I simply couldn't believe it and sputtered with indignation, "Profitable? Am I to be treated as nothing more than a prostitute? To be sold off to the highest bidder? What could I have possibly I done to deserve this?"
"Stop being so melodramatic. You are hardly being sold off. Consider it your privilege. After all you will live a very comfortable life with him. Though, I do suggest you make yourself more amiable. And Areena," he said, with a hard voice, "Never talk to me like that again. Is that clear?"
I trembled with the effort to not throw something at him. But I knew that a childish display like that would only reinforce his perception of me being dramatic.
So, without uttering a single word, I got up and walked out with my head held high. My legs trembled as I went up to my room. All the servants took one look at face, bowed, and got out of my way. I barely noticed any of them.
I slammed my bedroom door shut so hard that the window panes rattled. I gritted my teeth in frustration. My fists were sore from how tightly I clenched them but the added pain did little to clear my mind. No, I still saw red, and the rage refused to abate.
I should've taken the pistol he's so bloody proud of and shot him! He never uses it anyway; it's simply a glorified showpiece, for him to show off in front of his acquaintances.
Like me.
The reality of what had just happened staggered me and I fell backwards onto my bed. I stared blindingly at the rouge canopy above me. The luxuries of my life surrounded me, form my large bed, to my countless dresses and more jewels than I could wear – and never had I wanted any of it. There was only one thing I could focus on.
I was going to be forced to wed the Duke of Harleum.
I giggled at the very thought, and that led to hysterical laughter that I just could not seem to stop. To think, that Areena Hartsworth – a girl whose standing in society was beyond reproach and was known far and wide for her sharp tongue and arrogance – was treated like no more than an average prostitute!
It was ridiculous, really.
But my bouts of hysterical laughter soon turned to sobs because that was exactly what was going to happen. I had always expected that I would be married off to some noble household, maybe even royalty, but my blood chilled at the thought of consorting with that Devil of a Duke.
That was the one thing I could not even begin to understand in my father's actions. Why would he push me towards him? The Duke was one of the most notorious men in Corul, perhaps even the most. In terms of money and title, my father was right, no one was better, but there are some things that money cannot replace. Never mind the fact that the Duke was the same almost the same age as my father – that, while being disgusting, was socially acceptable.
Though, if that was all, I still might've gone through with it. I wasn't unrealistic, despite what my father may think, and I knew better than to expect a happy union. However, both men had a strong dislike of each other that neither had bothered to hide. Hence, father's actions did not make any sense.
The Duke was known for doing unmentionable things - things that no man should ever be allowed to do. Many rumors followed in his wake, like the fact that his late wife met a mysterious accident, almost immediately after her affair had been revealed. Or that a man who stole something of his was cut up into tiny pieces and his head is still missing. The stories were endless, but even if I dismissed them, I still remembered meeting him.
A ball, much like dozens of others that I had been to in Harleum, with a tall man in black at the centre. The man's looks were moderately attractive for a man his age with dark hair, a light completion and a well-maintained physique, but those eyes of his – those eyes were as empty and black as the Devil himself. I knew at the moment I met those eyes that none of the rumors were exaggerations. If anything, the man had most probably done worse and left no one alive to speak of it.
Therein lays the true reason for my anger.
Fear.
I was terrified beyond reason or understanding by what would happen to me if I was given to such a man. And so, that night, while everyone else slept, I stayed awake and thought only of one thing.
Escape.
Author's Notes:
Hi there! Hope you guys like this. Please do tell me what you think :)
CHAPTER 1
One week later:
I was suffocating.
The plan that had slowly been brewing in my mind for a fortnight was now at the eve of its fruition, and I was dreading it. My mind was working non-stop. There were simply too many variables that could go wrong, too many things that I had very little control over, but there was no choice now. There was no time for me do anything else. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat, which seemed to stay parched no matter how many times I drank water.
Why is it so hot in here?
The heat prickled my skin like tiny needles and sweat pooled in the small of my back. I kept walking up and down my room because I just couldn’t stay still. I needed some air, and not just because this damnable corset, it seemed as if the air was thinner these days.
Walking across the room, I opened the glass doors that led out onto the balcony. The stone felt cold under my fingertips as I grasped the guard-rail. I leaned back and took what seemed to be the first breath of fresh air today. I turned around and rested my back on it, tilting my head back to see the clear blue sky and the feel the salty breeze tease my hair. Below, the maids and servants were scurrying about, gossiping and carrying on their duties, blissfully unaware of what their mistress was about to attempt.
I felt a pang of guilt at what would happen if my disappearance were discovered too soon. They would take the brunt of my father's anger if that were to happen - especially Mary. Both she and her husband, Rupert, looked after me as their own and would be horribly worried. She was the only one who had an inkling of what I'd been up to, but that was only because she had seen that I’d been out of sorts for the past few days.
However, as I wasn’t planning on leaving for too long, I saw no reason that it should come to that. I was simply leaving for a few hours at the most, and if my demand to not be disturbed were followed, no one would be the wiser.
I needed to leave, even if just for a little while. The days following my father’s proclamation were stifling. I felt like a prisoner and it seemed that nothing I did could take that feeling away. I haven’t even been attending any parties of late, which some had already taken notice of. I couldn’t understand it. Why was he doing this? It made no sense to isolate me and the longer I stay here, the more that I feel an itching need to get away – to breathe. A few more days of this and I would surely go insane.
Biting my lip, I once again went through the plan. With my birthday only a month away, I needed to get away from Thornhill Manor and there was no better time than the festival. Most of the staff would be there, enjoying the celebrations. That meant the guards would be lessened as well and I had a higher chance of getting out undiscovered.
However, scanning the courtyard, I found that there was more than the usual amount of guards about. Damn! My father had increased security shortly after his little announcement just in case I tried something like this – not to say that such a thing was a frequent occurrence, but he may have had some inkling that I would do something – my eleventh birthday, for instance, when I happened to cause a regrettable incident that involved some gun powder from the fireworks. My father had missed two consecutive birthdays already and I was feeling slightly… put out.
It was, perhaps, not one of my finer moments, though how was I supposed to know that Mrs. Baker’s hair was so flammable?
Looking over to the servant's quarters I was mollified on finding that there were barely any guards there. Good. Now all I had to worry about were the ones at the back gate. Well, they shouldn't pose too much of a problem. I went back into my room and took a moment to appreciate it, for I might not be here very long if my marriage date was set.
Each part of this room had a memory attached to it. The dark pink and white walls had floral patterns that covered it like a painting. A large window was on the right, directly in front of my four-poster bed. If I looked behind the curtains, by the border of the window that no one checks, I would find the scratches I made as a child, trying to measure my height like some of the others my age had done. The mahogany desk that sat next to it was a work of art, purchased in Parga. It had vines carved along the side of it to match the walls. There were carvings of my name along the sides that I used to make when I was bored during tuitions.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror. The girl in the mirror had slightly tanned skin, some of my mother’s heritage, and dark reddish brown hair, with a slim build. I was one who would blend into crowds unless I made an effort to stand out. Comely, but not stunning, as an acquaintance once said – whether out of spite or the truth, I did not know. It was my eyes of green speckled with gold that gave me some true character. I could be striking, but not beautiful.
Closing my eyes, I sighed and massaged my throbbing head. I wondered for the hundredth time if I should be doing this. It wasn’t sensible and highly unlike me. No doubt that it would only bring trouble to all those around me, not to mention how it would reflect on my father.
I stopped short of the thought and gritted my teeth. How it would reflect on him? After what he was planning on doing to me, why should I care?
It was like a reflex now, after years of being told that I must watch every action and every word that I make because there were always people wagging their tongues. Years of being spotless on some notion of duty and responsibility. The thought of doing all that till I was beyond exhausted, just to end up here, practically being thrown away, was infuriating and insulting.
Didn’t I deserve some sort of respect or at the very least, a notion of an opinion? Arranged marriages are not so forced during these times, and the girl has the right to refuse at least one suitor in most families. With my status, I would have had more than just one proposal.
So, why, for heaven’s sake?
I had been trying to talk to father for days, but either Gustav turned me away as he had important business, or he was out. It was so frustrating! I felt my anger growing with every thought. I was his successor and was raised as such. If he just wanted a passive daughter without a mind of her own, he shouldn’t have raised me to expect more. He shouldn’t have thrown me into this mess where I have no control and expect me to take it.
No more second-guessing. No more doubts. It was time to take back a little control.
One day might not mean much, but if it was all I had left of my freedom, it was going to take it and enjoy it. My looks were not notable. I had thought once that I'd grow into them, like my mother, but now I was glad that I hadn't. If I had, it would make my escape even more difficult. After all, beauty was far more difficult to disguise.
I had stolen a maid’s uniform from their quarters. I quickly put on the long, dark blue uniform over my undergarments and tied my hair up in a simple style, securing it with a simple white bonnet as the other maids did. The dress was a tad too big for me but there was hardly anything to do about it now.
The only thing of true value that I wore was my locket, the only reminder of my mother I had left. It was a lovely little locket made of silver that gleamed even when not polished, engraved with an intriguing symbol that looked beautiful, even though I have yet to find out its meaning. Inside was the only remaining picture of my mother, as my father had all the others burned.
It pained him more than it did me, I think, to let go of the woman he loved. He grieved for her, and perhaps he never stopped for he had yet to remarry. His love for my mother was his most redeeming character, but the man he was before her death – the man I remember – was as dead as my mother. I always kept the locket with me, even while bathing. Although, when my father is near, it's tucked in safely underneath my clothes, next to my heart.
Kissing it, I sent a small prayer to my mother, asking for strength wisdom and safety.
I hid some of gold pieces inside the folds of my skirt, for safekeeping, just incase I needed it. I had enough sense to know it was never safe to be walking around with much gold on your person unattended. Not to mention that it would be idiotic of me to flaunt the fact that I have anything at all worth stealing, especially when I could barely protect myself.
For protection, I had a gun, which I’d stolen from my father’s study yesterday. It was the most unassuming one he had and I made sure to take extra ammunition as well, just in case something went wrong. He probably would never even realize it was gone. I kept it in my pocket along with the gold, hidden until I had use of it.
Well now, I couldn’t dally here any longer. Someone would be checking my quarters in a few hours, and I had better get back before then. Quiet as a mouse, I opened my bedroom door and peeked out. Lady luck seemed to be on my side, as there was no one about. I made my way down the long cream and gold corridors and took a right.
I headed towards the stairs and had my first encounter with the maids. Two of them were walking up, giggling about something. I kept my head down and tried to keep my pace normal, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. Each step I took was agonizing and exhilarating at the same time. They passed by without bothering to look at me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I sped up a little and made my way to the library.
Once there, I found the unassuming red book with no title. I pulled on it and that opened the secret passages that went all around the house, except in my room. I found these when I was a child, exploring the mansion. And there just happened to be one that led straight to the servants’ quarters.
I made my way with haste but I was careful. No one noticed anything wrong. I was itching with the urge to run, but I forced myself into an unhurried tread as I left the mansion.
The gate was in my sight and I was but a few paces from freedom. My heart was pounding so fast, it was a wonder no one else could hear it. I hurried a bit, almost jogging, as I made my way out.
“Girl, where do you think you’re going? You know we need all available hands inside to get the preparations ready,” a far too familiar voice said from behind me.
Mary.
Damn it! If she saw me now, I was going to get more than a simple slap on the wrist. I couldn’t afford to be caught now – especially not in these clothes - but if I ran now, I would seem suspicious.
Slowly, I turned around, carefully keeping my eyes downcast so that she wouldn’t notice them. That feature would distinguish me quicker than any other. I mentally ran through any feasible reason for a maid being out here and noticed the well, conveniently right by the gate. Without further thought, I quickly stated in a high voice, “Beg pardon ma’am, I was just fetchin’ some water.”
Only after the words left my mouth did I realize that I had forgotten one very important detail – the water bucket. Internally, I groaned and flogged myself for such stupidity. I knew without looking up that she was suspicious and I had to think of something quickly before she started asking questions.
Then an idea struck me. I turned towards the guards by the gate and smiled sweetly, with a slight wave. The guards seemed to take some interest and a few even grinned back. However, after taking notice of who was standing by me, they quickly looked away. I smiled, in earnest this time. Perfect.
Thank the gods for promiscuous maids.
She noticed the gesture and waved me away, making a rather un-ladylike sound, as she walked away, saying, “Don’t let me catch you slacking off again, and for God’s sake girl, put your head on right!” She walked briskly back into the manor without looking back, obviously having more important things to do than dealing with an enamored chit of a girl.
I resumed my walk to the gate, barely restraining the urge to run. It was so close now and in just a few more steps I would be free. The music and cheers from the festival were loud and boisterous. However, I was stopped just before the gate by the guard who smirked at me.
“Wher ye be heading to, miss?” he said, with an unattractive leer. I was starting to reconsider my earlier tactic. Perhaps it was more trouble than it was worth. I tried to hide my grimace with a smile that did not reach my eyes and said, “To the festival,” discreetly trying to get past him. He simply moved in front of me with his burly body, effectively cutting off my escape.
Internally, I let out a frustrated huff. Honestly! It was so close!
There was a loud group of maids walking by just then, and one of them noticed us. She stopped and yelled at the guard, “Gerald! What the hell are you doing with her?”
The guard – Gerald apparently – quickly forgot about me and turned to face the maid just as her hand connected to his face, giving him a sound slap. She started swearing at him profusely in another language – it vaguely sounded Pargan - and tried for another one but was held back by one of her friends.
Then another maid joined the fray and took offence to the first maid’s behavior towards the guard and told her, “What in the blazes do ye think yer doing, ye twit?” I gathered that she was also involved with said guard. Soon enough, it seemed that everyone there was dragged into the argument and the two girls started getting physical.
Recognizing that it was the perfect opportunity to escape, I ran out of the gate and away from the mansion. No one noticed and I ran for a good distance before I finally stopped to catch my breath, leaning against a wall. When I had finally gathered my bearings, and looked around, I realized that I was in an unfamiliar part of the city.
There were plenty of people around and the festival was in full swing. It seemed to engulf the entire city and their energy was infectious. There were groups of girls and boys dancing and singing along to the music. I stared at them for a good while before a slow grin took over my face and I started to laugh. The feeling that rushed through me was beyond words. It was like energy flowed trough me, from the top of my head to the bottom of my soles and I shivered, even as I reveled in it.
I was out. I was free. And it was glorious.
CHAPTER 2
After my initial awe at my new state of freedom, I took in my surroundings more clearly. Everyone was moving towards the heart of the city. The Solstice was one of the largest festivals in Asarel. It symbolized the end of one year and the beginning of the next.
Everyone walked from their homes to the center of the city, making merry and enjoying the last days of the year.
It might be better to have some kind of disguise just incase my father did realize I escaped. A mask was perfect. Unsurprisingly, many today wore them as today was a day when inhibitions were left aside and certain deeds could go unpunished. It was particularly popular for those in love but unable to marry, or so I’ve heard.
There were three men handing out masks by the side of the street and I made my way there. One of them looked at me and asked, “What kind?” indicating towards the variety of masks in front of him. Some had truly amazing artwork and I couldn’t help but admire them. I felt the man’s stare and looked back to him. He seemed oddly interested in me and made me immediately wary. His mask was white and hid his entire face, save for his eyes, which were a pale shade of blue, almost like ice.
“Two please, blue and white,” I answered, deciding it was better to err on the side of caution. Slave trading was not unheard of during this time, though it had been outlawed before I was born. He smiled and gave me the ones I asked for. The first was white with silver embroidery that formed an intricate pattern, covering the eyes and nose. The dark blue one had orange and green feathers on one side that gave it quite a flare and covered only the eyes. I put on the white one and was about to find a coin to give him but he simply smiled and shook his head, saying no need. It made me even more uncomfortable. I hurried away trying not to seem like I was running, distinctly aware that his gaze was still on me.
Once I reached the end of the street, I hid around the corner and looked around. Once I was satisfied that the strange man could no longer see me, and that he wasn’t following me, I removed the white mask and put on the blue. Honestly, I was being much too paranoid, but my instincts told me to be cautious and I heeded them.
I slowly relaxed and moved along with the crowd towards the music as the players made their way to the center. It was something I’d never heard before and the people were laughing and dancing differently from what I knew. There were no steps here that were predetermined and no one was watching if you happened to step on someone’s foot or if you fell and made a fool of yourself. They genuinely enjoyed themselves. The feeling of excitement rose within me again, and all I wanted to do was join them.
Slowly, unsurely, I moved to the sound of the music as I walked with everyone. Then, I began to get bolder and moved my hips from side to side as the woman next to me was doing. She smiled and danced with me, teaching me the way to respond to answer the call of the beats. I raised my hands up and closed my eyes, not caring when I hit someone or if they bumped into me, losing myself in the music and the magic of the Solstice.
I lost track of where I was and hadn’t noticed that the woman was gone. Everything around me fell away and I felt dizzy, but not like when I had too much wine. I felt incredible, as if I could do anything, be anything that I wanted to. Only when I noticed that the music was softer, did I open my eyes again and realize that the crowd was farther away. There were still people around me, mostly lovers, but not nearly as many as there were before.
Away from the seduction of the music, the haze of delicious oblivion lifted slightly and I could think clearer. I was about to follow the crowd again when I noticed that there was a small girl by the age of 11 or 12 by the side of the road, searching for someone. She was dressed well in a white and blue frock that looked a bit too short for her, probably something handed down or bought sometime ago. It was not unusual for a child to be at the celebrations but it was dangerous for a girl to be alone in such a large crowd. The thought brought back the white masked man from earlier and I shivered, goose bumps breaking over my skin. A girl like this would be easy prey.
She wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking and bumped into a man, falling down with a gasp. Worried, I walked over to her, but she was more shocked than hurt. Using my knee for support, I bent down, and offered her a hand up.
“Are you lost?” I asked her.
She hurriedly shook her head, quickly stood up and backed away from me. I was slightly wounded for a moment that she was so frightened of me. Apparently, she thought I was one of those people I was worried about. I took a moment to wonder if maybe I was bit too harsh with that man earlier. It was not a good feeling. However, I was still worried about her. She had her back to the wall and looked as if she was going to run away, seeming like a frightened wild animal, and I knew that any help I could think of offering would be probably misunderstood and unwelcome.
I sighed. I was never very good with children, even when I was one.
Leaving her alone was dangerous. God only knows what could happen to her. So I needed to do this with a bit more delicacy. I noticed that she kept sneaking glances at my face, or rather, my mask. Aha, a peace offering.
I slowly took the mask off and handed it to her, smiling. She looked from me to my mask with a slight confused burrow between her eyes. I inwardly smiled at the comical expression on her face and gently cooed, “It won’t bite.”
Her gaze shot back to me as if she were surprised that I was still there. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached out and snatched the mask, looking at it with interest. She fumbled with the mask for a bit and when she finally managed to put it on, it was a bit crooked. I reached out slowly and straightened it for her. She stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and gave me a small smile.
I smiled back and said, “Shall we go find who you’re looking for?”
She frowned and asked, “How did you know that I was looking for someone?”
I was a bit startled at the sound of her voice. It was a child’s voice, but the undertone behind it was wary and distinctly suspicious. Also, the cultured tone made me reassess my assumption of her. She was a lady, probably from a well-off family. Her wariness of strangers solidified it, because kidnappings were quite common for noble-born. Inwardly, I grinned. It seems I’ve met a kindred spirit. I hadn’t met her before, but that wasn’t unusual as Asarel always had a large number of travellers.
“I saw you looking for side to side earlier and thought I should come and help,” I said, giving her my hand to hold.
She looked at it for a moment and then decided to take it, albeit only lightly. We made our way through the street together. “You haven’t answered my question yet. Who were you looking for?”
“My elder sister, Kara. She is as tall as you but with black hair and brown eyes.”
Looking around, I sighed. If those were the only clues I could get, then this would be much more difficult than I thought. After all, black hair and brown eyes weren’t exactly very rare and almost every girl in this crowd was close to my height. We should stay in the same area as she was probably looking for the little girl.
Realizing that I still didn’t know her name, I looked down at her and asked, “What is your name?”
“Clara. My name is Clara,” she answered, after a moment of hesitation. She looked up at me and returned the question, “What is yours?”
I also hesitated for a moment for if it was known that I had come out to take part in this alone, the repercussions could be unthinkable, especially if it got into the wrong hands. However, I mentally shook my head at the thought. After all, she was a little girl, who would she tell? And moreover, how would she even know who I was?
“My name is Areena,” I said, with a smile.
Just then, a girl came barreling into me and pushed me away from Clara. I almost lost my footing and fell, but I managed to right myself at the last moment. I looked at the girl, who was kneeling in front of Clara, checking to see if she was unhurt. I inferred that this must be Kara, Clara’s sister.
Or rather, supposed sister, I should say. The older girl bore little resemblance to Clara. She had dark hair with light brown eyes and looked to be a few years older than me. Clara, on the other hand had lighter hair and dark eyes. I suppose her hair might darken as she grew older, but the dynamic between the two didn’t seem to be one of sisters.
Clara brushed her hands away when she tried to remove her mask and said, “You weren’t gone very long Kara, I’m fine. Now, you are acting rude to the kind lady who lent me this mask.” Her last sentence was sharp and it seemed to wake Kara up from her worried trance. She finally looked up at me and frowned. She got up and smoothened her skirts, which were slightly marred by the dirt from the street.
Bowing her head, she said, “Thank you for taking care of my little sister. My apologies for any inconvenience.”
Deciding to overlook that she had yet to apologize for almost flattening me, I said, “She was no trouble at all. Now, what do you say we go and enjoy the festivities?” Only then did the both of them notice that we were in an almost deserted street. The crowd had moved on a while ago, taking the music and laughter with it. Kara frowned, and scrutinized the empty streets as if searching for something. She quickly nodded her head in affirmation and we made our way onwards.
However, we had to stop as we came across a brawl that blocked the main street. A handful of men were arguing heatedly and it appeared that the owner was asking for compensation, whereas the men who seemed to have caused it were too drunk to comprehend it.
I could guess that it would quickly end in blows and had no intention of getting involved. We would simply have to take one of the other roads to the center, which shouldn’t be too difficult. I gestured to Clara and Kara that we should take the small street on the side, which was big enough for only two people at a time. I had read the map of the city before and was reasonable sure that it was the right way.
However, before I could move more than two steps, Kara grabbed my arm forcefully, so much so that I was sure it would bruise. I winced and turned back to her, ready to give her a piece of my mind, but the look on her face stole the words from my mouth.
She looked at me with anger, confusion and fear in her eyes, and it made me momentarily pause. Clara came and took my hand, making me look down to her. “I trust her,” she told Kara, which only further confused me. I looked at the two of them and finally asked, “What in the world is going on?”
Kara was the one who answered, “Who do you work for?” She still hadn’t let go of my arm, though she did loosen her grip.
I gaped at her, “What in blazes are you on about?” Looking down to Clara, I raised an eyebrow – an action that I had perfected a long time ago to effectively communicate a large number of things without actually saying them, and in this particular one, I was asking for clarification. She looked at me with something akin to sympathy and said, “It’s alright Areena. You can tell me.”
I frowned at her, for once at a loss for words. I decided against asking them what was going on for the third time, as they seemed unable to comprehend it. I sighed, deciding to take another approach. Giving Kara a disdainful look, that had once caused a lady to faint, I waited until she let go of me to kneel down and talk to Clara face-to-face.
“My name is Areena. I have no information about you or your sister,” I said, adding emphasis to the last word to communicate my displeasure, “I cannot know what you are talking about if you do not tell me.”
Kara snorted, a gesture so unladylike, that I actually paused to look back at her. She said, with barely disguised disgust, “Then why would you try to lead us to such an obvious trap?”
“What trap?” I asked, exasperated. I looked to the street that I was about to enter and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “It doesn’t seem very obvious to me.”
“I am an important person, Areena,” Clara said. Marie looked at her distraught, but Clara shot her a look that cut off anything she was about to say. “And no one can know that I am here.”
Then it dawned on me, “You’re hiding from someone. And you think that person sent me to capture you?” I said, slowly. She nodded once, her eyes looking much too old for such a young girl. “The only reason I wanted to take that street is because it isn’t advisable to go anywhere near that,” I said, nodding to the inevitable brawl that had taken over the street, which started involving even the spectators around them. It was getting dangerously close to us and I had no urge to stand here and wait for it. Finally, it seemed to dawn on them as well, and we all to a few steps back, away for the crowd that was starting to gather. I sighed as I realized how late it had gotten. Someone would have noticed my absence by now.
Clara gripped my hand and I pulled her closer. “Do you two have a place to go?”
Kara nodded, still suspicious of me. I sighed and said, “Then you should go there. It’s starting to get dark and I don’t think it’s prudent for two girls who barely know the city to be on these streets alone.”
Kara breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I concur. We must go.” Clara agreed as well, but she pouted as she looked at me. “I wanted to dance some more,” she said, in such a petulant voice that had me smiling widely at how childish it was. She was finally starting to act her age.
Looking down at her, I smiled, “There will be plenty of more opportunities, trust me. If you ever want to find me, and let me prove to you that I’m not some kind of spy,” I said the last words dryly, directing them to Kara who clearly still had doubts about me, “Just go to Thornhill Manor and ask for me.”
She nodded and smiled up at me, and I smiled back. Then I looked at Kara, who was frowning at me. I didn’t like the woman much, but I could understand her position and even approved of the fact that she was protecting Clara with so much vigor. I went to her and bowed slightly, “Take care of her.” She inclined her head as well and said, “I will.”
I turned around and walked away, only to stop abruptly at the realization that I had absolutely no idea how to get back home. Well, I couldn’t go back to them now, especially after stating that it was dangerous for those who didn’t know the area well. How embarrassing!
With a pink tint to my check I went in a random direction, away from those two, and tried to find a landmark so I could figure out where I was. The center of the city was easy to find, but I wasn’t too sure about any others. I had mostly travelled in carriages, and hence had very little knowledge of the city. The descent of the sun helped me find out roughly where to go, as I knew that Thornhill manor was towards the north. However, as lost as I was I couldn’t figure out how far that would be.
Deciding that asking someone for directions outweighed the paranoia that seemed to follow me, I stopped to search for someone with a reasonable amount of sobriety, which was easier said than done, as the festival was still in full swing.
When the third person that I’d come across could barely string a sentence together, I was debating on whether or not I should just try to make it on my own.
That was when I’d heard something that chilled me to the bone. A child’s scream.
Clara.
End Notes:
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Author's Notes:
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CHAPTER 3
My body was moving before I even finished the thought. I raced towards the scream that had faded into the twilight and turned my blood to ice.
No, no no, was my only thought. Fear gripped my throat and scrambled my mind. So much so, that it took me precious moments to realize that I didn’t know where she was. The streets were loud with other noises, and I couldn’t tune them out to try and find her. Frustration ran through me as I blindly searched around, but know that I wouldn’t be able to find her like this. I needed to slow down and think, which was easier said than done when a child’s life could very well hang in the balance.
I forced myself to slow down and took a deep breath. What did I know? They were somewhere nearby, as the very fact that I heard the scream, would indicate. I was fairly certain that the direction of the scream was from the east, and as the sun was setting, I knew the way.
They were worried that someone was after them, and the reasonable assumption was that there were two possibilities – kidnapping or murder. If they were being kidnapped then they must be somewhere inconspicuous, for no matter how drunk someone was; they would notice something was wrong, especially if a child was involved. If they weren’t being kidnapped then the likelihood of my finding them was close to none. I refused to think of that, so right now, I would focus on the former assumption.
Clara didn’t seem like she was from here, so it stands to reason that neither were her pursuers. They would want to leave as quickly as they could, and hide their quarry somewhere unobtrusive. The dock is the most obvious location, as there were plenty of empty storage areas about and hardly anyone to man them, along with quick access to ships. But there was no guarantee that it would be empty, as it was a mostly open, public place, hence risky – so, not the main port, but somewhere nearby. Asarel’s shoreline was about as long as the city itself and there were innumerable places to hide a vessel. However, there was only one large port was because there were cliffs that made the seas too dangerous for bigger ships when the storms hit – which they were prone to do at their will, and often without warning.
Hence, it would be suicide if anyone not familiar with our seas tried to get too close to those areas. That cut down their choices remarkably. I may not be as well versed with the city, but I knew most of the out-of-the-way places where a ship could dock – a lesson from my father.
Now then, where to look first? Madman’s creek was the probably the closest and that would be the most logical place to port if they wanted to head out quietly. The port dues were higher and that bought those without strictly legal merchandise a certain degree of leeway and privacy.
I ran towards the shoreline, letting my general sense of direction guide me first and then the salty smell of the sea. That too left me astray, once I’d gotten used to it. Fortunately, there were a few helpful people still around that weren’t drunk yet and soon I was close enough that I could recognize some of the signs from my trips here. What I had forgotten was that there were many more dangers lurking around the corner, and just as I was about to take the last turn into the main opening, a group of four men noticed me.
Drunk as skunks, I deemed them to be below my notice, and ignored them, even when they started throwing obscene requests at me. They made me feel dirty, even though I knew better than to listen to them. If nothing else, my life had prepared me to look unaffected in almost any circumstance, for I’d be damned if I showed them a hint of weakness. However, I stayed as far away from them as I could.
Looking a head, I found the main port. Even from here, I could see that it was brimming with ships of every major shipping company in five – no, six nations. I scanned over them with a practiced eye and found more than half a dozen of my family’s own ships.
No, there was no way anyone would risk a kidnapping here, especially so early. Madman’s creek it was then, and it was barely a league away by horseback.
My breathing was already heavy and my feet and thighs were aching from running around for so long. I needed to get a suitable means of transportation. I had a few coins on me, probably more than enough to get a decent carriage. Now, if only I could find one.
I had to pass the repulsive bunch again, because the Creek was roughly in that direction. They whistled and shouted out things that could get them shot if my father heard them, and I found myself reaching for the gun, almost unwittingly. Too much trouble, I told myself and gritted my teeth, as I left them behind.
Amazingly, I found a sloppily tethered horse next to a small house just a few feet away. I made my way to the animal and touched her head, whispering soothingly. Anger flared up as I noticed the scratches on her flank and that she was made to stand outside no protection against the cold. She pulled her head back and shook me off, backing away, making a huffing noise. She probably wouldn’t let me ride her, and I felt sympathy for the creature that had to suffer such poor treatment.
“Who th’ hell are ye?” a man yelled from behind me, making the horse even more agitated, almost untying her bindings.
Turning around, I saw a grossly overweight man with a tankard, teetering as he came closer. I took a step back as he came closer, grimacing at the smell. This one must’ve been drinking for quite some time. Remembering that it was not safe to be alone so late, I backed away, ready to run if I had to. The place I wanted to go to was dangerous on its own right, but it posed a larger one if I was a woman. Looking back to the drunk, I pondered on the thought.
“Hello, sir. I was wondering if you have a shirt and breeches I could borrow? It’s for my brother you see, he’s so very clumsy, and he tripped and his wine fell over him.” Internally, I winced at such a poor lie.
He leaned down, peered at me and grinned, showcasing gruesome yellow teeth, “You’re pretty.”
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
He was too far gone to be reasoned with, and much too big for me to take on, even if I had had some inkling as to how to fight. With hard clarity, I knew that if I kept going like this, I would be taken advantage of. Rape and murder happened quite frequently in such deserted places, and though my family’s name would protect me to a certain degree, that was only if they actually believed me.
The best choice for me was to turn around, run back to Thornhill Manor and get some help. It was the most logical thing to do, and by now, father would have heard of my disappearance. So why am I going through so much trouble for practical strangers? It made more sense to go back, tell him about it and let him handle it.
Of course, by then it would probably be too late.
With an inward curse, I knew I had to do it.
“Well, now, are you alright?” I asked slowly with a concerned voice. Slowly getting closer to him, I carefully felt around me till I found something thin and hard beside me. I held it behind my back, letting my hand feel if it was strong enough. When I was just close enough to hit his throat, I struck. However, he stumbled around as I was doing it, and the momentum made me spin and fall, having not struck anything. I fell on top of him and immediately tried to get up, only to find one hairy arm clamed around me, holding me to him. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, smiling with his rotten teeth and I almost gagged on the stench of alcohol on his breath.
With an urgency that I’d never felt before, I renewed my struggles, but the blasted drunk didn’t even seem to notice. In fact, it seemed as though… my god he was enjoying it! Frozen with shock and dread, I screamed, “Get off! Get off! Help, please!”
Blinding swinging my arm around, I hit something that toppled and made a loud noise as it fell. The horse, already skittish, got even more agitated and started moving around, breaking free of her loose restraints. She brought down her front legs frighteningly close to us and created even more noise.
I was scared out of my mind and desperately tried to get out of this mess. The horrid man’s breath was on my neck as he groped me. Tears shimmered as I squirmed and prayed that I would not be raped and killed by this piece of lard.
And suddenly, the weight was lifted off and I could finally breathe. I gasped and crawled away, not caring where I was going as long as I got away from that bastard.
My heartbeat was so loud it crowded my mind and the fear was the only thing I could think of. Bile crowded at the back of my throat and I puked at the memory of his stench. Shivers, that had nothing to do with the cold, ran up my spine and invaded my entire body, making me unable to even clean myself up properly. I tried to hold my shoulders to stop it, but it wouldn’t go away. I could still feel his hands on me, grabbing me, restraining me. Suddenly, it got so hard to breathe.
“You’re ok?” a gentle voice broke through my mental haze. The shivers subsided for a few moments as I looked up into the face of my savior. He was very good-looking, from what I could make out in the darkness. Light hair and concerned blue eyes started at me, as they waited for me to answer.
With a jolt, I remembered who I was and what I was doing. I was Areena Harstworth, not some addled ninny that needed a stranger’s help. I was not weak. No one has the right to make me cower and I will certainly not give that would-be-rapist any sign of weakness. My spine straightened automatically and my eyes narrowed, as I looked at the vermin, now lying unconscious on the ground.
The man who seemed to have helped me moved closer when I slowing got up. His hand, which reached out to give me some support, froze as he saw my expression. I stiffly got up without his help, unwilling to be touched again by any man. I raised my head to an arrogant angle, “Thank you, milord. Your kindness did me well, and I will repay you someday for it,” I promised, and I would keep it. As soon as I found out who he was, I’d send a generous donation of some kind to him, or help him out of some debts – he looked like the sort to trifle with the gambling dens. All anonymously, of course, can’t have anyone knowing about what could have happened.
“Would you like me to take you somewhere, miss, perhaps home?” he asked, still looking mildly concerned. The words brought out my suspicions and immediately defensive. Had I traded in one rapist for something even worse? A slaver, or a murderer? Honestly, how much worse can one day get?
With an unmoving stiff smile, I politely refused the offer, “You’re very kind sir, but that won’t be necessary. I will find my way back on my own, I assure you.”
He looked dubious, as he should, and then shrugged, “If you insist miss, I really have no other choice. Take care now.” With a tilt of his head, he walked away.
I watched him for a long time after his silhouette had disappeared. Then, I looked back at the man. He was snoring loudly, obviously asleep. Bile gathered in the back of my throat again but I held it back.
He wouldn’t be asleep for long, and I had things to do. I will never again leave myself so vulnerable. Shaking like a leaf, I made my way over to his house. A plan was forming in my mind.
I would be a man for a while.
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