Patsy, Meryl’s lady in waiting, sneaked away from the dining hall and rushed to find her lady. She opened the door of her room, and immediately took out a small bottle of medicine that she had hidden in her skirt. She lifted Meryl’s head in her lap and made her drink the potion. “Why do you keep doing this, Lady Meryl?” she murmured in annoyance. When Meryl stirred a little, she helped her to lie on the bed. “You poor girl…” Patsy muttered as removed her clothes and applied a cold towel on her body to bring the fever down. She wanted to open the window of the room, but with incessant rains and thunder grumbling, she didn’t take the chances.
Meryl woke up with a jolt when a thunder sounded right outside her window. Images of the last night flashed across her mind and her gaze swiveled down to her body. She found herself tucked in the furs. The room was dark. Not completely, but there was no sunlight on the outside. The fireplace lent its weak light to the room, which cast shadows everywhere. Recalling the pain that had assailed her after eating the soup, she moved her eyes to look for a pitcher. A goblet was on the bedside table. She grabbed it and drank the water greedily. She settled back on the pillow and looked at her arms turning them up and down. Her skin was still blotchy, but less painful.
Whenever Meryl woke up with remnants of so many hives and blotches on her skin, she would rarely recall how they came on her body. She had refused to eat the soup yesterday, so how did she end up with this allergy? She tried to remember, but the memories were hazy. They were always hazy... always blank... It was frustrating not to remember exactly how she ended up eating. Why was it that she didn’t recall gaps of time? She knew that Judith never actually fed her the soup by force. She just demanded it and Meryl refused. Then how? She remembered when this happened for the first time.
She was cold and shivering from being soaked with rains falling on her. Little Meryl had found herself in her bathtub, feeling the pain and fever. Her maid, Patsy, had come running to her to soak her in the water. Eight-year-old Meryl had no idea how this happened. However, as she grew up, she just related it to her stepmother’s angry outbursts.
She took a deep breath and her eyes went to the portrait on the wall in front of her. A wave of fury mixed with heartache and gloom passed through her, looking at her father.
Why did her father, Duke of Windley, bestow the estate to Lady Judith instead of giving it to her? Her father, Duke Charles Hanover, was a kind man. After the death of his wife, he didn’t wish to marry. But three years later when his ship sailed for trade to the east, he returned with Judith and a small baby in her hands. He introduced Judith as her new mother and Viola as her new sister.
When Meryl was seven, her father died, leaving his estate to Judith.
Meryl often lay awake, as she did now, staring into the darkness, as a knot formed in her stomach, wondering if she had ever disappointed her father in some way, especially when he was on his sick bed for the last two months of his life. Had she not come as a caring and fit heir to him?
Her chest burned with anguish when her thoughts went to her people who were starving. Judith had imposed crazy taxes upon them. With so much rain and thundershowers throughout the year, their crops were low and so was the business. She placed her arm over her forehead as she let out a deep exhale, wondering if there was a way to help her people. Her mother was only making all the money disappear, and now… now slowly she was removing the precious items of the house. Their castle was bare, with only a few good pieces of furniture, brass artifacts, old paintings and old rugs.
Meryl was in need of funds… badly. For her people. For her dying estate. She had once overheard her stepmother talking to Viola that she would sell it to someone with money and she better find a rich husband for herself, fast. Meryl knew that once Judith sold the estate, she would leave her alone here to suffer with her people, who were already on the brink of starvation. She had to do something… and very fast.
She had asked for money from some of the neighboring estates, but everyone refused because they all wanted something against the loan they provided. She didn’t have anything to offer as collateral.
Her thoughts went to the conversation she had had with her close friend, Valerie.
“Look Meryl, no one is going to help you like that and give you money with no collateral,” said Valerie and sipped her tea. They were sitting in the parlor of her father’s mansion. Valerie’s father was one of the richest businessmen in the county. He was Duke Hanover’s good friend. Their estate, Pembrook, bordered Windley and was the last human settlement. Surrounded by a dense forest, it was said that the Lore began from here. The forest was a home to many differential planes that led to the various realms.
Meryl sat on the opposite sofa, with her head hung low, looking at the brown lines of pale cream linen gown she wore. She had draped herself with a thick shawl, but realized that Pembrook was too hot. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take her shawl, else it would reveal her threadbare gown. It was better to sweat than show holes in her gown to Valerie.
Seeing her discomfiture, Valerie continued, “But I pulled some strings and came to know that there is someone, who can help you.”
Meryl’s eyes shot to Valerie with a gleam. “Who?”
“Duke of Napane, Alburn.”
Brishor swung out of bed. He took a look at Chezzal, his General, tucked him beneath the fur and walked naked to the wash basin that was located near the window. Sleep was nowhere. Over the last few days, he was haunted by the dreams of Loreans being mercilessly pulled inside the forest that surrounded Pembrook and being killed, their bodies sucked dry of blood, and thrown to the wild animals. In the heavy darkness of his General’s room, he couldn’t shed the images of those mutilated bodies.He opened the window and the morning light that crested the tops of the firs, spilled inside. He grabbed the pitcher and washed his face in the basin. The ice-cold water felt good against his heated skin. Brishor tilted the pitcher and splashed more water on his eyes. The remnant of the nightmares disappeared with the coldness.“What are you thinking
Meryl exhaled a heavy breath as her hands trembled in Valerie’s grip. The money was great and she was also used to managing her castle in the absence of her stepmother and stepsister, which was most months of the year, but she was hesitant. She pursed her lips and then said, “I will consider this option, Valerie.” She pulled her hands out of hers and rubbed her neck, feeling extremely tired. She had helped one of the women in the village give birth to her third baby and just so that she didn’t catch infection, Meryl had made a lot of herbal medicines for her. The exhaustion was now apparent on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes and her face was pallid. “It is a fantastic option Meryl,” said Valerie. “Alburn is a nice man. He helps people and is generous with salaries. Moreover, it is just a month’s job. A month will pass in the blink of an eye and you will get a good hundred gold coins
It took them a long time to reach Windley Castle. It was already evening but the rains were just as heavy. Meryl got out of the carriage with Tim’s help. As soon as she was down, he bowed his head and said, “M’lady, I need to rush to my wife. If there is nothing else to do, may I go?”Drenched to the skin, Meryl nodded. She wanted to get inside the castle and go to her room where she would summon her maid in waiting, Patsy. The shawl around her was so wet that she slung it over her hand and then walked it the main hall and found herself staring right into the dark eyes of her stepmother. An unpleasant shock cruised through her body as Judith’s gaze met hers directly. Her stepmother’s gaze was filled with cold hatred, one that had become very common whenever they were face to face. Meryl found herself shivering, which had nothing to do with how cold she was feeling.
Meryl was shivering with fever, with cold and with the deluge of emotions that surged through her body. After her stepmother’s instructions of making tea, she didn’t know how she ended up cleaning the entire house. It was as if she was in a daze. At the end when she truly came out of the trance, she found blood seeping from her hands, as if she had worked and worked but she hadn’t stopped. There were fresh wounds on her hands and arms and even her feet. She couldn’t remember the number of hours spent or do all that she did, but it was too much for her. Her body was aching and every muscle was revolting. All Meryl remembered was that she woke up in the dark beneath a staircase that was in a forgotten part of the castle. Her nose was bleeding and she felt too dizzy to even get up. When she finally managed to get up, she brushed her hands on her gown only to shriek in pain. There were cuts in her palm
Something tickled her nose, something with bristles and a terrible smell. Meryl swatted at it, but it didn’t go away. She opened her eyes, but why was every part of her body aching so badly. Flash of memories rushed across her mind. The last she remembered was drinking that potion in the carriage, which Valerie gave her for fever. She had blacked out after that and now she found herself in darkness with something crawling on her face. She got up and her head hit a wooden board. “Ouch!” she pressed her hand to her head. Her hands fell back on… hay? Where the hell was she? Was she dreaming? And why was her skin so itchy? Meryl blinked her eyes once and twice, but the darkness didn’t go. She touched around to understand the place she was in and all she could make out was that she was lying on hay. She scooted to her side to avoid the wooden plank over her head and got out to sit. The damp smell of the room h
Lady Susan was up for her morning walks with her maid who was walking behind her at a distance. Wearing a warm peach nightgown, with a light shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she looked soft and petite. “Good morning,” she said in a husky voice when she saw Brishor. The man was too handsome to be true and she found him very alluring. His black sleeveless tunic hugged his chest in a way that every muscle that rippled could be seen. The gold vambrace on his upper arms shone in the light morning rays. Even the leather pants he was wearing were showing his lean muscles. Susan let out a sigh and wondered what it would be to be in his bed. “Good morning, Lady Susan,” Brishor said and dipped his neck slightly. “I like how you maintain your gardens,” he said, hiding his real intent of coming here. “Oh, thank you,” she replied with a blush. “I—” before s
Brishor gripped Chezzal’s thigh beneath the table as his eyes became wide. The girl in front of them was… beautiful, no, ethereal. His throat bobbed when he heard the thundering beats of her heart. His chest was gripped in a vise-like feel, as he sensed her fear. He rapidly tried to decipher what she was afraid of, but then his gaze dropped to the slit on the side of her lips. Her scent—of flowers, of jacaranda wrapped in lemon and fire, hit him with full force. —Mine— He could feel the bond, the chain, the link that tethered him to her. Before he could do anything, Chezzal rose to his feet. He stared at her as the girl held a large folder in her hands, looking fearfully at the man and then at Duke Alburn. She seemed to tremble, her skin was flushed and her face pale. Her deep auburn hair was tied in a loose braid and some strands came out. Those
“You are going to pay for this heavily!” Alburn warned. “This girl is in my debt and needs to stay in my mansion till she pays her debt. So, if you take her, then you better understand that I will take it personally.” “I don’t care!” replied Brishor as his lips curled in disgust. “We are leaving from here at this instant. I don’t care if the talks fail, but you don’t touch the hair of that girl, because if you do, then I am going to rip that rutting head of yours. Do you understand?” Alburn shot a dark glare at Meryl and the to Chezzal. While Meryl was looking like a lamb between three massive giants, her eyes wide with fear and her skin flushed, the two dragons looked too fierce to be countered. This was not the time to discuss further. He had to take this up when there were no threats hanging on his head. He was going to stir so much noise that