Curse of Shadows and Thorns: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 1)

“There is more where this comes from, dear girl,” Willem Gurst crooned. For the fifth time the bulbous man pointed to his russet cabriolet, the wheels painted in real gold, as he put it. “My estates claim two-hundred square lengths of the Ribbon Lakes region; a household any woman would be proud to claim as her own.”

I smiled, but was certain it came more as a grimace as I fanned my face with a white handkerchief, desperate to keep the cloying scent of mildew and rot from my nose.

“Then there is the fishery . . . Did I tell you I have no less than ninety folk in my employ? That goes without mention of the many serfs in the estates and—”

“Yes,” I interjected. “Yes, Herr Gurst. You’ve mentioned it all. Quite impressive.” Bleeding hells, does the man roll in the innards and blood at his fishery? Does he not wash? I didn’t understand how a human could be so unaware of their odor.

Gurst offered a gummy smile, took my gloved hand, and pressed a kiss to the top. “Ah, then, I’ve given you a great deal to lust over tonight. I hope to call upon you tomorrow, Kvinna.”

“Uh,” I looked to Siv and now Mavie who stood on the steps.

It was Runa who snickered, then cleared her throat. “Apologies, Herr,” my sister said. “But Kvinna Elise will be asked to meet with others. You understand.”

Gurst didn’t seem pleased, but how could he argue the glorious tradition of bidding on a royal bride like chattel? “Of course. I assure you, my dear, I will call upon you again at the first opportunity.”

Please, by the gods, please do not.

Once Gurst was in his coach, I allowed my shoulders to slump, but grinned up at Runa. “I could kiss you, sister.”

She chuckled and waved me away. “Please. My dismissal was purely selfish. I would be forced to cut you off should Herr Grey select such a pungent man as that. I’d never allow him to step foot inside Ravenspire.”

Since Gurst’s visit lasted until the haze of twilight curled around the trees, Runa took her leave of me, entrusting me to the care of my maids to settle for the night. Finally, I’d get the chance to speak with Siv. I stole a glance toward Legion’s cottage and frowned. The windows remained shadowed, and no hint of life existed. I hated how part of me felt a pang of worry about his condition, whatever it was.

The other was still furious with the man.

“Bleeding skies,” Mavie swore as she closed the door to my chamber. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Speak for yourself,” Siv grumbled. “I was downwind.”

“You both had it easy. I, on the other hand, endured a kiss to the cheek. The cheek.” My skin still prickled as if a thousand creeping things had burrowed beneath my face.

Mavie laughed, turning down the furs over my bed. “Be sure to inform Herr Grey when he returns, Gurst is not the match.”

At the mention of Legion, I flicked my gaze to Siv, looking for any kind of reaction. Perhaps it was because I’d been looking, but I was certain I saw her flinch.

“Do you think he was hurt last night and didn’t say?” Mavie asked and turned the flame in a lantern by the bed.

“I don’t,” I said too briskly. “Sometimes I think Legion Grey is not who we think. I’m sure he has secrets.”

Mavie furrowed her brow but shrugged it off. “I’ll go draw a bath. No doubt you’d like to wash the day away.”

“You read my mind.” I really wanted a moment alone with Siv. When Mavie disappeared into the washroom, I chased away the space between us before I lost the opportunity. “Siv, I saw you speaking with Legion last night. I saw how he threatened you. Will you tell me what it was about?”

Her eyes went wide. “You saw—” Siv shook her head and acted busy with the pillows on the bed. “No, you misunderstood. It was nothing. He didn’t threaten me.”

“I saw your face. They had weapons drawn. If he has harmed you, I swear—”

“Elise, he didn’t,” she said abruptly and faced me. “At first he was . . . suspicious of me is all.”

“Suspicious, why?”

“Said I fought too well for a serf. Truly, he was concerned for you, what with us being so close. Once he realized the mistake, we, uh, left it at that.”

I pinched my lips into a bloodless line. “So you told him where you learned to fight?” A bit of jealousy bloomed in my gut. Siv never opened her past.

With a tilt to her head, she sighed. “It isn’t some grand story. I was taught as a child by my father before I was a serf.”

An itch in the back of my head put me on edge. A sense that I wasn’t seeing something right in front of my eyes. But Siv wouldn’t lie. As powerful as he might be in the world of trade, I still outranked Legion Grey. With him absent, this would be the opportunity to admit to any threat, for the Lysander estate to rid itself of a man who turned on its serfs. She wouldn’t lie. I had to trust she wouldn’t. If I did not trust Mavie and Siv and Mattis, then I trusted no one.

“If you promise you’re all right—”

“I promise,” Siv said, even rested a hand on my arm. “Legion Grey is . . . not a threat.”

As I mulled over our conversation once Mavie and Siv left me to their own beds, I couldn’t shake the toil in my stomach. The way Siv had bristled during the conversation, the fear in her eyes. The way she’d said the word “threat” through her teeth.

Legion burdened my thoughts well into the night. He’d been arrogant, but gentle. Haughty, but unassuming. Perhaps I was so desperate to find more goodness outside of my narrow circle of friends, I’d trusted too easily.

But the idea that Legion Grey couldn’t be trusted, I didn’t understand. It left my heart heavy until my mind could think no more, and I drifted to sleep.

Not so many hours later, rough hands shook me awake. The blur of my dim room took a moment to come into focus, but when my eyes adjusted, Mavie hovered over me.

Her eyes were wide, filled with terror. “Elise, wake up. Quickly. We must hurry!”

“What’s wrong?” I tossed back the fox fur comforter off my legs.

“Shh,” Mavie held a finger to her lips. She froze.

My pulse pounded in my skull. In the distance, voices rose over the quiet night. Screams. My blood drained from my face as I scurried across the room to my window.

Over the knolls, at the border of our gates, the yard patrols rushed toward thick clouds of black smoke. The bloody glow of flames over the hills ignited the midnight sky in a battle of flame and shadow. Serfs screamed as they raced through our gardens, aimed at the main manor cellars. They looked as if they ran for their lives.

“Mavie,” I said, breathless. “What’s going on?”

She wrung her tattered nightdress between her fingers, tears in her eyes. “Agitators . . . they’re taking lower Mellanstrad. Folk say they’re coming here!”

“What?”

“Elise some of the . . . some of the serfs said they saw in the trees . . . a man in a red mask.”

No. The floor tilted. “The Blood Wraith?”

Mavie ignored me and gathered the cloak still dropped in a heap on my floor. “We must get you to the cellars. There is no reason to risk waiting in the open in case anyone breaches the gates.”

Thoughts of facing the demon of my nightmares faded. Panic rose in my throat, but of a different kind. “The cellars? No! We need to help.”

“Elise,” Mavie said. “You are a Kvinna.”

I narrowed my eyes and pulled out a wooden chest from beneath my bed. “Yes. And I bleed the same as others.”

Mavie fidgeted, wringing her fingers in front of her body. I lifted the lid of the chest. My mother would shriek her disappointment if she knew I kept a trunk of weapons beneath my bed. No doubt Runa never had need to handle a blade, but as for me, I’d rather draw a bit of blood before anyone slit my throat.

The door slammed open and Siv filled the doorway as I fastened a slight bow over my shoulder and five arrows, more reminiscent of bolts than anything.

“Why are you still here?” Siv snapped. “Do you think your mother will wait to lock the cellars if you are not there?”

“Exactly. If I am of no importance, we might as well make a difference for those who cannot fight for themselves.” I wheeled on Mavie and Siv. “I am going to the old chantry. The tower has the best vantage point of the lower neighborhoods.”

“Elise,” Mavie warned.

“Stay here,” I said. “Hide, and do not come out until you know it’s safe.”

Siv snorted her disgust. “Tell me to stand back one more time, Kvinna. I dare you.”

I fought a grin. “Fine. We’ll be shooting, Siverie. Take up a bow.” I gestured at my open trunk but kept my gaze on Mavie. “Mavs? Focus.”

Mavie trembled, eyes wide. She shook her head. “I-I-I want to stay with you.”

There wasn’t time to argue. Our fates belonged to our own choices tonight. I gave her a quick nod, handed her a knife, then took to the corridors. Siv and I with bows, Mavie, a blade against a beast who could slaughter us in one blow.

The manor was silent. Tension grew the dim light, the quiet of the bedrooms, but danger spun the house in a way that seemed at every corner a knife might jut out and slit our throats where we stood.

On the lower level my father’s guards took to each window, each doorway. Others marched in tight units toward the gates. They wore formidable, wiry, black belts over their shoulders. Sheaths of knives, of axes, on their chests. It was a sight to see some top their skulls with heads of deer or slaughtered bears. Like the warriors of my great-grandfather, King Eli.

If we were not placing our lives at risk, I might stop and revel in a bit of pride at the warrior blood showing through tonight.

“This way.” I gestured toward the narrow corridor that would lead through the kitchens and to the trellises on the east side. We kept low, kept quiet. Outside, the cold air struck my face, raising my skin. Smoke from tower fires warned upper Mellanstrad of a threat, and added a burning layer in the air.

Serfs darted from the cottages. Guards went for the gates. Shouts broke the peace of the night and added chaos. I couldn’t tell where the voices rose from, couldn’t see Agitators. But if we were the royals of this region, then we ought to stand for our people. Not hide in a damp cellar while the innocent were left alone.

All my nights sneaking into the surrounding forest quickly became of use.

I took to the trees on instinct, Siv and Mavie close at my back. Damp from the shore hung in the air. My hair clung to my brow. Each step trembled, but I didn’t slow my pace. In the trees, smoke darkened the path, but it wasn’t long before we arrived at the gray rock wall of the old worship chantry on the grounds.

The bell tower rose above the walls of upper Mellanstrad, giving sight to the narrow alleys between the tenements, but also a good view of our grounds. The old chantry was built against the edge of the forest. Shadows from the trees twisted my insides. Hair on the back of my neck rose on end, as if unseen eyes drank us in.

I shoved away the apprehension and tugged open the heavy, wooden door.

My father’s guards took to the walls and their towers to protect our precious royal blood, but the bell tower was left unguarded. Good. I didn’t need to worry over sneaking past patrols who believed me to be something breakable like glass.

“Hurry,” I said, and held the door open for my friends.

Siv notched an arrow in the larger bow and stepped into the shadows of the chantry. Mavie followed.

I turned to follow but was stopped.

I must’ve screamed, my throat grew raw, but it drowned beneath the thud of blood in my head.

Before I knew what was happening, a strong hand curled around my arm, and wrenched me away from the door and into the night.