The Ward

Edmund and Alexander were dining at the Tancredi when Lucille's letter was delivered. Edmund immediately departed for Lucille's estate to gather all information, and Alexander summoned his soldiers and left straight for the docks, the only port where Stephan could leave the town by water.

On horseback, Edmund galloped through the large, open gates of Lucille's property, his gut in knots as he saw the cloud of smoke and servants milling outside, panic on their faces.

Two guard members turned from Lucille's housekeeper to receive him, bowing their respect.

"My lord," one solemnly greeted Edmund as he briskly dismounted. "We have been notified of a fire and Lady Amelie is missing." He hesitated. "Servants are not always privy to the movements of nobility, but it is unusual for a noble to be absent and unreachable, especially when there has been damage to the property."

"Where is her maid?" Edmund asked.

"She is in the kitchens, my Lord," the housekeeper stepped forward, clearly shaken. "She insists... well, we can hardly make sense of the girl, she's hysterical."

The second guard turned to Edmund. "My lord, if I may assume by your presence here that you are acquainted, and you might know of a social engagement she could be attending?"

Remembering Lucille's letter, Edmund's expression turned so ominous; everyone took an instinctive step away from him. His mind whirled with the decision he faced. If he disclosed Lucille's predicament, her shameful secret would be revealed, and she would be forever disgraced.

But he had Lord Dacre as a resource, and he held far more power and influence than the entire Guard compound.

"Our concerns may be unnecessary," he said curtly. "Lady Amelie, above all, values her privacy. She is a good friend of Lord Alexander Dacre, and I will take the matter to him personally."

"Lady Amelie's servants are certain the fire was deliberately started."

"Then by all means, investigate it," Edmund replied, his eyes moving to Lucille's anxious housekeeper. "I trust you have authority to arrange the repairs?"

The housekeeper nodded, and Edmund looked to the Guardsmen.

"Very well, my Lord," said the guard member, bowing to Edmund in unison with his colleague. "We will make a report to the compound in the interim and await word from Lady Amelie."

Edmund nodded and dismissed them, waiting until the men followed the housekeeper through the entry to inspect the damage. He turned to Lucille's servants. "Take me to Marie."

***

Dressed in a demure blue gown that matched her eyes, Sage sat primly with Habern. Her dark hair was tied in a long plait that trailed prettily down one shoulder.

Their visitor was on time, striding purposefully into the room behind the servant announcing him.

Lord Justin Taylor was average height, with black hair and a very severe countenance. His features were striking, which suited his pallid complexion. He dressed conservatively in mostly black except for his red coat, which he promptly removed before bowing to Sage.

"You look remarkably well, my lady."

Sage's lip curled but Habern had quickly risen to bow.

"You are very welcome, Lord Taylor. Forgive my niece if she does not curtsy, she is still recovering from the incident."

"The incident," Lord Taylor repeated, with a nod of satisfaction. He handed his coat and gloves to the waiting servant and sat down. "Lord Habern, may I request time alone with my fiancé?"

Habern paused a heartbeat. "Of course not, Lord Taylor. I will be close by, in the next room."

Justin's eyelid flickered with annoyance, but he waited until the door closed before his attention was on Sage. "I felt we should have some conversation before we are married. Establish boundaries."

Sage smiled thinly.

Justin leaned forward. "When I am your husband, I expect complete obedience and honesty from you. It is obvious you keep secrets from the Council. Though we determined you bear our kind no malice, the secrecy is a concern. I might enjoy extracting information from you forcefully, but you will be spared the unpleasantness if you cooperate."

Sage was unmoved by the threatening undertone. "Kind of you, my Lord."

"And you are very beautiful," Justin remarked, his gaze travelling up her figure to linger on her face.

"I'm by no means a virgin," she said sweetly. "And before my last suitor, there was another."

Justin almost smiled at her attempt to disgust him. "That doesn't matter. When we are married, I will wait an adequate time to determine you are not with child, before proceeding with you."

Sage's eyebrows mockingly lifted. "

Proceeding,

my Lord?"

"Consummate our nuptials," he clarified lightly.

Sage watched him with hostility.

Justin casually glanced around the room. "Your Uncle's estate is impressive. I am pleased to associate with his lineage. You could say the others openly covet my happy circumstances."

"But not your character," Sage quietly smirked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"And also your character," she said louder.

Justin looked inclined to challenge her but changed his mind. "I would be honoured if you would come to my estate tonight for dinner."

"I have engagements," Sage said through her teeth.

Justin leaned back and patted the space beside him. "Come here."

Sage's eyes darted to the door Habern had exited.

"He won't hear a thing," Justin said, following her gaze. "I have us in a shroud of quiet. I'll teach you the trick, if you like."

"I dislike being trapped in a hex with you," Sage retorted.

"Sit with me now," he sharply ordered. "Or I'll make you, and I won't be gentle."

When Sage didn't budge, Justin moved as though to come at her. In response, Sage waved her hand and hissed a word, straightening when Justin was unaffected.

His smile widened, drawing a talisman around his neck to show her. It was intricately carved blackwood. "I hear John Canning failed in his seduction. He is not a member of the Council and cannot access our more ancient relics. I wanted to see what kind of magic you wield." He relaxed back into the seat. "So, your learnings are of the old times. Superior."

Shaken, Sage processed the repercussions of the shroud and the talisman together. She couldn't draw on Aleksis' strength. "What do you want, Lord Taylor?"

"I dislike your arrogance. It mars your beauty," he answered. "But I know a rarity when I see it."

"What do you want, Lord Taylor?" Sage repeated, on the edge of her seat.

Anticipating flight, Justin leapt across to catch Sage as she tried to flee. Sage screamed, hearing the sound distort and fade, dissolving into the quiet before it could pass the shuddering barrier.

Justin forced her down into the cushions, his hand on her throat. "I'd heard about you, long before we knew you were a witch," he said. "I know all about your brazen nature that Lord Bard tolerated in good spirit. It won't be so with me, I'm afraid."

Sage snarled, clawing at his grip on her neck.

"My determination not to father another's spawn will make little difference to my pleasure," he said levelly. "Once we're married, I will fuck your insolent mouth, your ass. And if you displease me, I will beat you." He released her neck and allowed her to sit up. "Do we understand each other?"

Sage coughed, wiping stray tears from her eyes. She had various scathing retorts but wasn't fool enough to alert him to her planned escape. "Please don't hurt me, I won't be difficult."

"Then kiss me."

Sage swallowed her hatred and leaned toward him, allowing Justin to brush his lips over hers. The gesture was strangely cold, symbolic. There was no feeling behind it, no desire.

Sage allowed herself to breathe when Justin moved back to smooth his crinkled shirt.

She was frightened, seeing the difference from Edmund and Aleksis. Even Nicholas Stiles had a driving lust, a keen fixation to make her his wife and enjoy her resistance.

But Justin prized obedience; there was no sexual interest. He might abuse her body for his desires and seek to manipulate her powers, but she was only a vessel, just a thing for him to use. All that mattered was her compliance. He wasn't afraid to harm her.

Justin stood and bent to kiss her hand. "I'll take my leave and look forward to dining with you tonight." He bowed and left without a backward glance.

Habern hurried in, abruptly dismissing the servant at his heels. "What happened?" he demanded, scrutinising her face.

Sage slowly shook her head. "It's no matter, Uncle. We just talked."

Habern's eyes roamed Sage's ruffled dress and hair, where some of her plait was disrupted. "What did he do?"

"He didn't hex me," she said dryly.

"Abusing you under my roof! I should not have left you alone with him. I will speak with the council-"

"It was the right thing to do," Sage reassured him. "He needs to believe I can be controlled without your interference. We don't want him to suspect anything."

Lord Habern sighed angrily.

"He was...more formidable than I expected," Sage admitted. "It won't matter once I'm away with Edmund."

"Yes," Habern said, a mix of sad and determined. "You said nothing to alert him?"

Sage shook her head.

"I have my most trusted servants discreetly packing your belongings. I believe it will be the same for your possessions at Lord Bard's estate."

Sage smiled. "Uncle, I have no belongings here."

"And I have no spare daughters or nieces to inherit your new dresses and trinkets," Habern smiled back. "What you leave behind will await your return. It is all yours by your birthright. And much more from your parents' estate." He tilted his head. "I won't specify your destination, but it is a property abroad that belongs to you, on your father's side. You will be safe there."

"Abroad?" Sage repeated with astonishment. "Do I have more relatives?"

"Your father was an orphan," Habern replied. "Should anyone approach you to claim otherwise, it would be a ploy for your inheritance. I have faith that Bard will protect you from scavengers, he's dealt with his fair share since his parent's passing."

***

The uniformed soldier entered the Sea-Tavern, hurrying through the crowd upstairs to where Alexander waited.

The door opened and Alexander was on his feet. "The list?"

"Yes," the soldier handed a scrap of parchment containing a hurried scrawl. "Two noble departures scheduled to depart within two days, tide willing."

"Two?" Alexander snatched the paper. "These names are not...hold," he said, staring.

"Habern?"

His eyes darted aside. "Edmund's fiancé."

"Alexander," the soldier began delicately. "Is this the King's matter?"

Alexander hesitated. "No, Parker. But it is not treason. If you wish to return to-"

"Of course not," Parker said sharply.

Alexander bit his lip. "This is a personal matter. A lady I am endeared to, she is in trouble. I believe her captor will try to depart these lands imminently."

Parker held up a hand. "I doubt the King would object to a matter of your desire. Regardless, you don't have to explain the circumstances. I'll serve wherever you go."

"Good man," Alexander smiled. "You're not indebted to me, you know."

"Only as long as I breathe," Parker replied. "We will monitor all who come and go, noble or not. Is there anything else you need?"

"No," Alexander answered, drumming his fingers along the wall. "Merchant supplies pass overnight; leisure passengers won't be permitted before dawn. We must examine all departures."

"Very well. We will notify all dock hands and search all departing vessels."

"Parker," Alexander called him back. "Procure local clothing. Your uniform stands out."

Parker bowed and left.

Alexander paced the room a while, sensing something was awry, though he couldn't place it. Stephan would not dare travel locally, especially not through Therondia. Spiriting Lucille abroad was his only option.

And yet the feeling persisted, crawling up his spine. A restlessness, like he was sitting idle while the enemy proceeded onward. He went back to the list.

Habern.

This did not surprise Alexander; it had been his recommendation. He considered the other name.

Ladde.

He stared, tapping his finger to the name. It was not an aristocratic line. But it was respectable, as his men discerned. Alexander mulled over it, continually sounding the name in his mind.

"Ladde, Ladde, Ladde," he muttered, going to the window. It would drive him mad.

He left the Tavern to find one of his men, sighting two easily as they stood out in their bright military attire.

"I need to speak with the dockmaster," Alexander said, holding up the list. "The other noble schedule to depart, Ladde-"

"Arrived this morning," Samuel remarked, his companion nodding. "I doubt he's the threat you fear. Certainly, he stood out for the fuss he made about his travel cases."

Alexander wondered why this felt so relevant. Perhaps it was anxiety. He'd never been in love before and was struggling to keep a clear mind.

"He was ridiculous," Gordon said. "An irritable, shockingly vain excuse for a man of faith."

Alexander froze. "Man of faith?"

"Aye," Samuel chuckled. "A priest obviously here to expressly save the reputation of a noble lass with child. It is not an uncommon occurrence, though must require significant secrecy to avoid a local priest."

"Not often but it does happen. Sail in, perform the marriage, sail out," Gordon shrugged.

Alexander swore as the mystery was solved. "Ladde is our man. We must find him."

***

Lucille started when Stephan took her hand, surprised she had fallen asleep on the journey. It was morning.

Exhausted, she allowed Stephan to assist her from the carriage. She looked up blankly at the house. It was quaint, though tiny in comparison to her estate.

Stephan smiled at her bemusement. "It is considerately smaller to what you are accustomed, but I believe you will survive the night."

"And tomorrow?"

Stephan paused, continuing with a smile. "By the morrow we will be husband and wife."

Lucille's heart thudded with dread, but she slowly walked with him to the entrance, her mind reeling. She expected more travel, enough time for them to be overtaken. Not a fast-tracked ceremony. "Stephan, I'll never marry you."

"You will."

"Even the most corrupt priest will require my consent to complete the ceremony."

"Oh, I'll have your consent," he said smoothly, opening the door for them.

"How?" she asked, both curious and incredulous.

Stephan led her to a cushioned seat, gently pushed her down and crouched before her. He captured both her hands in his, before waiting until she met his eyes.

"There are strays in abundance in this region," he said softly. "I will bring you a child, interrogate that child until they are dead." He tightened his grip when Lucille tried to pull away. "I will kill as many children as it takes for you to agree, and in the end, you will agree Lucille. And you will wish you agreed long before I take the first life. So, it is better you save yourself the distress and spare all of them now and do as I ask."

"And I suppose you will always threaten to harm others to ensure my compliance!" she sneered.

Stephan smiled. "You are a strong woman, Lucille. But your conscience is your weakness, which I will rely upon heavily throughout our marriage."

"I won't marry you," Lucille replied, very pale. "If you are going to commit murders, those lives will be on your conscience, not mine."

Stephan watched her with a slight smile before leaning close. "You will change your mind, when the first child begs for your mercy," he whispered. "I will have your compliance, and in the end, you will give your affections convincingly."

Lucille opened her mouth to challenge his strategy and pressed back when he moved to kiss her. A small voice interrupted them.

"My Lord?"

Lucille's jaw dropped and Stephan stood to full height.

It was a boy, holding a tray with water. "I hope your journey was pleasant, my Lord," the boy said, clearly rehearsed. "Would you care for refreshment?"

"Thank you," Stephan smiled, walking over to accept the tray. "Tell your mother we will dine in two hours. Until then, I require privacy with my fiancé."

"Aye, my Lord," the little boy blushed, thinking how pretty Lucille was.

The boy left, and a tense silence fell. Lucille bit her lower lip and Stephan went to her, taking her hand to bring her to her feet.

"Yes, I'll start with him," he said carefully. "He's too sweet a lad to meet my blade, would you agree? He might not sing so sweetly when I take his eyes."

"There is a special place in Hell for men like you."

"I have been told that, many times," Stephan laughed, drawing her to his chest and directing her face upward. "It would be worth it, to have you as a wife."

Lucille suddenly realised where he was leading her. "I wish to be alone!"

He ignored her, guiding her up the stairs easily despite her resistance.

"Stephan, no! This isn't decent!"

"We are going to be married, it is perfectly acceptable," he said. "Shouldn't we make the most of it?"

Lucille was pushed into a small, clean bedchamber. Anticipating an immediate assault, she rushed to the other side, her back to the wall.

Stephan didn't enter, his tall frame filled the doorway, relaxed against it, a cruel smile on his face. Enjoying her trepidation long enough, he laughed.

"I'm not going to rape you. You will find everything you need to refresh yourself," he said, gesturing to the adjoining room. "Including new clothes."

Lucille tried her best to remain calm. "And might I be granted some privacy?"

Stephan bowed slightly, still smiling at her. "I hope you won't forget my kindness when we are married."

"Of course not," Lucille said, aware he was baiting her.

"If you desire my attention, you will try to escape," he said. "Otherwise, I trust you'll remain here until I bring dinner."

Lucille nodded, not looking at him.

On another soft laugh that sounded perfectly villainous to Lucille, Stephan left the room and locked the door behind him.

There was a large window. Lucille went to look out of it and saw only untamed land. She tried to open the window wider, but it wouldn't budge. Despondent, she washed her face then sat on the bed, wondering how long until help came. She hoped Edmund or Alexander might have overtaken them on the journey, but knew it was too ambitious given even she had no idea where Stephan had taken her.

The marriage threat was too close for her to be idle. The priest would come long before nightfall, possibly within hours. Stephan had said 'by the morrow', which carried an ominous sense of imminency. He would keep her in the dark then deliberately ambush her without notice, leaving no space for her to plot an escape.

Even if the means were underhand, the marriage would be legally recognised, a blight on her existence. There would be no redeeming her reputation, even if Stephan was killed or imprisoned. She would be too shamed to re-enter society, and Stephan would know this. She had to save herself.

Lucille took advantage of the time alone to freshen up and change clothes, her face tightening as she donned the burgundy gown, all new materials specifically tailored to her figure.

It wasn't long before Lucille decided to take her chance. She had been taken some distance from her estate, but if she walked far enough, she might encounter a decent citizen who would be obliged to help her. There would be risk, but the reward she could supply would be far more enticing to any thug tempted to harm her.

She listened at the door, and there was only silence. Stephan would be guarding the house entry, but there would be a servant's door. If she was very fast...

She opened the door and stepped out, drawing back with a cry when she saw Stephan seated against the wall, calmly reading.