Текст книги "The poison daughter"

Автор книги: Sheila Masterson

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 48 страниц)

4HARLOW

My maid, Marie, sets the heated iron on the table to cool. She’s spent the last two hours curling my hair into tight ringlets. She begins to wrangle the coils into submission, pinning them up on my head and topping the updo off with an emerald-encrusted headband.

I stare at myself in the mirror, brushing my fingers over my lips. I haven’t spoken a word about last night to anyone, not that there’s anyone I would tell other than Bea or Aidia. If something is wrong with my magic, the moment I’m about to be sent to Mountain Haven is not the time to bring it up.

Besides, I would have no easy way to explain it without outing my secret. If my family knew what I’ve been up to, I would be locked in a tower like some fairy-tale princess until a prince of their choosing came to claim me.

Though I suppose that’s what today is about. My prince has finally come.

While I didn’t initially want this assignment, I now see it for what it is: a way to earn a favor from my father. I have had a plan since the first time Aidia showed up with the bruise on her face.

Years ago, when the Drained population grew and traveling far beyond the walls became almost impossible, my father commissioned my brother Frederick to use his blessing for manipulating nature, to build a tunnel to the outside world. It was a way to continue trade without losing so many guards and resources to the Drained.

According to the tradesmen who came through before the forest was overrun, the Drained rarely wander into the mountain pass because there isn’t much coverage during daylight. While the sunlight doesn’t kill them, it’s enough to keep them from straying too far beyond the Drained Wood.

For years, I have stared at the key, hanging from the chain around my father’s neck, imagining how it would feel to get far enough away from here that I would feel true safety for the first time in my life. I’ve fantasized about stealing it and disappearing with Aidia to finally find the freedom we’ve always dreamed of. Unfortunately, my father is too controlling for escape to be so simple.

The entrance to the tunnel is cloaked, the route mired with dead ends and magical traps, and it requires the collective magic of several of my siblings just to navigate it, as well as my father’s magic to pull down the wall of holy fire at the end. Like every other resource in Lunameade, my father has made sure that no one can use the tunnel without him.

If I do this, I’ll finally have a safe way out of the city. By the time he realizes he’s lost two daughters instead of one—that I’ve used it to get Aidia away from Rafe—we’ll have escaped beyond the mountain pass, beyond the reach of the Drained, and, more importantly, beyond our father’s reach.

“Are you sure about skipping a lip color, dear?” Marie asks.

I nod. “People like the spectacle of an otherwise invisible magic.”

Marie is the only servant in the whole castle who knows about my power because she helped raise me and needed to know for her own safety, much like Gaven needed to know in order to protect me. She has sworn a vow of silence that sends her into excruciating pain if she were to ever try to speak it to someone outside of the family.

“What do you think he’ll say when he finds out that he can never kiss his wife?” I ask.

Marie arches a brow. “As I understand, most men care more for other bedroom activities anyway. I suspect he’ll live.”

I blow out a sigh. When I turned eighteen, my mother brought a handsome young man to “test” that other activities were safe. She waited in a sitting room down the hall, but it was still the most uncomfortable night of my life. I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I hadn’t been so curious myself.

“Yes, at least there’s that.”

Marie laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t be so morose. You could use some affection, love. You’ve been on your own too long, and while your independence is admirable, this alliance will help Lunameade. Peace is good for everyone.”

Even if my parents want peace, Able doesn’t give a Divine damn about it. The true poison apple on the family tree will someday be head of South Hold and rule over the magical families of Lunameade. I kill for vengeance and protection, but if Able had my gifts, he’d do it for fun.

Marie squeezes my shoulder, a knowing look on her face. She’s helped me get ready for years, but this is always where she leaves me. She can do nothing for this ache—the burn of knowing that I am nothing more than a currency for my parents to trade.

My bedroom door creaks open, and my mother steps inside. I avoid meeting her gaze in the mirror, turning and busying myself with pulling on my stockings and fastening the stays to my slip.

It’s been months since I’ve looked my mother in the eye. The last time I did, I was screaming at her until I lost my voice. She’d traded Aidia to a monster for the greater good of the family, even when she saw the damage done. I was more angry about my sister being used that way than I am about it happening to me for a second time.

Her reflection appears in the mirror, her appearance so like my own it’s like looking thirty-five years into my future. Her hair is still a dark raven-black, but instead of making her look young, it ages her. The color is too stark against her pale skin and plays up the prominent lines around her violet eyes—eyes that are only purple and blessed with magic sight because my father gave her a family heirloom ring that grants her the same vision the rest of us have by blood.

She’s still striking, with her tall, statuesque figure, high cheekbones, and full lips. Despite the lack of glamour, she still looks younger than she is—beautiful in a cold, calculating way that I would probably respect more if she weren’t my mother.

Even her aura is similar to mine: a bright golden swirl around her that remains close to her skin. Her blessing from Harvain is far kinder than mine. The Divine of Fortune loves to give eclectic gifts, and my mother’s is no exception. Her gift is retro-cognition. While most people would have seen it as useless, she landed my father because of the way she was able to glimpse into any political adversary’s past and find unseemly things. She gained my father’s attention by warning him about a plot another house had hatched against him. She’s kept his allegiance for years by continuing to find past sins of all the magical families in Lunameade.

I’ve watched her aura stretching out and probing guests for information at every event of the high houses we attend. None of them are the wiser, because you can’t fight off magic you can’t see or feel.

There was a time I worried she might realize what I’ve been doing in my free time, but she doesn’t like to look into her children’s pasts. That would require looking at her own failures, and that’s a thing she cannot abide.

My mother’s gaze drops to my star necklace and her hand instinctively comes up to the ruby pendant around her own throat. I haven’t asked Aidia, but I suspect that she’s stopped refilling my mother’s necklace with glamour magic. I respect my sister for the protest because there are few things more reliable than our mother’s vanity.

“Excellent work. You’re dismissed, Marie,” my mother says.

Marie gives me a wary glance before seeing herself out.

“Did you need something else, or are you simply here to fill me in on what you’re planning ahead of time for once?” I say as I run a finger over the belladonna flower embroidery along the edges of my purple silk dress.

My mother blows out a weary sigh. “Don’t sulk, Harlow. If we’d told you ahead of time, you would have just thrown a fit like you did with Aidia. You’re always so dramatic about these things—as if duty is optional. We all do things we don’t want to. It’s part of what it means to be a Carrenwell. We have to put the needs of the city first, not ourselves. You haven’t complained about any of your other siblings’ marriages.”

It’s not that I don’t care about my siblings, but most of them were too much older to bother with me. They’ve all married people they wanted to, and the only other sibling I cared about, Kellan, had been in love with his wife, Libby, since they were teenagers. I always knew he would be okay. It was Aidia and I who were the outliers—young and stubborn and ready to put up a fight.

Sometimes I wonder if they agreed to marry her off to Rafe to break both of us. Unfortunately for them, it had the opposite effect.

“You say that like I haven’t already done this once,” I snap. “You can’t just use the same ‘you owe us’ excuse every time.”

My mother holds up a placating hand. “They’ve been operating under our noses all this time and we have no idea if they’re actually coming home to us or planning our demise. This isn’t just about our family, Harlow. This is about the safety of the city. We don’t trust the Havenwoods.”

“So you’ll throw another daughter into the fire,” I say.

I adjust the sleeves of my dress, and my mother begins to button it.

“You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, as you love to remind me all the time,” she says.

I want to argue, but she’s right.

“I know you think I haven’t been a good mother to you, but you should consider that it’s impossible to be a good mother to you, a good partner to your father, and a good ruler of Lunameade. So often those priorities are in conflict with each other.”

“How difficult for you,” I say.

“I can take your anger. It’s all you’ve ever given me. But I know how you feel. I share your victories just like I share your losses.”

I don’t like the way the words twist between my ribs like weeds looking for a place to grow. No matter how much I’ve hardened myself against her comfort, it doesn’t get any easier. It’s her trick, giving me a glimpse of her potential. I’ve always understood the impulse of wanting a mother, but when I’ve felt it, I’ve always imagined some alchemy of generic soft hands and tight hugs and the scent of rosebushes. What I want is the idea of a mother, not the woman standing beside me.

She fastens the last button, and I turn to face her. The admission that something is wrong with my magic is on the tip of my tongue. But telling her would require explaining what I was doing sneaking out. I don’t have it in me to give up the last escape hatch in my life, especially when I know she wouldn’t change her plan for the sake of my safety.

There are so many things I would like to say to her, but every time I give her a chance to be better and she chooses not to, it breaks me into smaller pieces. I’m already past the point of being certain I can reassemble myself, and I can’t take the reminder of my own brokenness when I need so badly to be strong.

A loud knock on the door shatters the silence between us. My mother rushes to let my father in.

He stands with his hands clasped behind his back in the practiced, militant posture of a man who always shows up ready to war with me.

My mother gives him an expectant nod.

“Harlow—you look very nice.” His compliment is forced. I wish he wouldn’t bother.

A mild pain still presses against my temples, and though it’s abated since last night, the anxiety of meeting my new spouse isn’t helping. The pain comes and goes, but stress makes it worse. I reach to rub away the ache, and my father tracks the movement.

“You’re not having an episode, are you?” It’s an accusation—like I want the Havenwoods to see that I’m defective.

“I’m not. It’s nothing.”

He nods, appeased by the instinct to hide my weakness. “Today, we will sign the official marriage contract. We’re going to ask that they stay with us two weeks before we send you off. We’ll use that time to try to get to the bottom of what they want before you go. They were non-negotiable on the wedding being at Fallen—” He stops and clears his throat. “Mountain Haven.” He shakes his head. “I still can’t get used to calling it by the old name, but we need to be sure we don’t accidentally call it Fallen Hold in front of them. They might consider it disrespectful.”

It’s a relief that I’m not being completely thrown to the wolves. It also gives me a few more days to fulfill what’s outstanding of my Poison Vixen duties.

“And what happens once they know my magic?” I ask. “Once I’m married to a stranger and stuck in the fort with a forest of vampires between me and home.”

The fear hits me for the first time, a great sucking terror that swells from behind my sternum with the imploding gravity of a dying star. I’m leaving this cage to be trapped somewhere smaller.

“We will have an escape route in place for you. You have my word,” my mother says. There’s such certainty in her voice, like she thinks her words have weight—like she hasn’t broken promises before. “We will keep you updated every step of the way. Your only job for now is to play nice with your fiancé and get him to like you. Let him believe your loyalty to him is above reproach. It shouldn’t be hard for you to fake disdain for us. I know you find our methods distasteful. You may as well use that to win him over. Use whatever you must to entice him, but it’s in your best interest if his loyalty to you is more compelling than what he holds for his family.”

My father’s aura is swirling. There’s something he’s not saying.

“Understood, but it would be helpful if I know exactly what I was looking for,” I say.

He shifts, bringing his hands to his hips. “We need to know how they’ve truly survived all this time and if they have anything to do with Rochelli.”

I gasp. “You think they’ve been stirring up trouble with the rebels?”

“We haven’t been able to rule it out, and it would make sense for them to rally the unblessed. We have magic, but there are twice as many magic-less citizens in Lunameade as those of us blessed by the Divine.”

Rochelli is the name of the man who has been stoking the simmering rebellion among the common people who resent the blood tithe they have to pay to the Blood Well. Kellan and the city watch have been looking for him for months. There have been whispers of the rebel for years, but it’s only in the past year that he’s been a constant threat.

How quickly the people forget who keeps them safe. For all my parents’ flaws, they take the security of our people very seriously. Maintaining our wall and the magic that turns the hordes of Drained away requires an enormous expenditure of power. My father has carried on the Carrenwell line and that duty since his father died years ago. He bathes in our Family Well weekly so he can continue to do it, and I’ve seen how spent he is when he returns from securing our defenses. Usually, he can’t even walk into the house on his own. He needs my mother and Able to help him stumble down the stairs to the basement well so he can restore himself. Then he sleeps for a full day.

It’s only his incessant need to be seen strictly when he’s strong that keeps the people from understanding the cost. As if they are sacrificing everything and my family gives them nothing back. What are a few ounces of blood dripped from their palms into the Blood Well twice a month compared to a lifetime of safety within these walls? My parents didn’t create the tithes. They are a sacred ritual given to our ancestors by the Divine.

It’s not as if I don’t feel trapped here sometimes. It’s not as if our world is perfect. But I know for certain it’s better than what lies beyond the walls. It’s better than an army of drained ones who wouldn’t hesitate to suck them dry of every last drop of blood for the temporary high of feeling alive again.

“We’ve heard rumors that one of the Havenwoods is blessed by the Divine of Endings,” my mother says.

“With what kind of power?” I ask.

My father shakes his head. “We don’t know, but the rebels have also chosen Asher as their Divine patron. It could be a coincidence, but it’s worth investigating.”

“So, make my husband like me and find out what he knows about the rebellion discreetly. I can do that.” I fold my hands and summon all my anger to bolster my courage. “If I do this, I want my freedom when I’m done. I want to take the tunnel key and the help of my siblings to take it out of the city. I think I’ve earned some peace, have I not?”

The question is directed at my mother, but my father holds up a hand to silence her agreement.

He’s always doing this—stepping in when my mother has things in hand, looking for a chance to fight with me.

“You think you’re so much better than us.” My father spits out the words like they taste bitter.

“No, I don’t.”

“You do—with your attitude and your endless sneaking around. You think you know something we don’t.” He gives my mother an expectant look.

Her gaze drops to the floor. “You can be a bit rough with us⁠—”

“I don’t think I’m better than you,” I say. “I think we’ve been speaking your language my entire life and neither of you have bothered to learn mine. I’ve been forcing myself into a family system that doesn’t fit me, but the two of you have only ever seen me as a problem to solve, rather than a person to try and understand. Not once have you asked me to collaborate. You’ve commanded me around. The reason you think I’m better than you is because I’ve ceased begging you to care. You won’t or can’t give what I want and I’ve learned to stop wanting it altogether. The two of you have nothing to offer me but grief and weakness.”

My mother looks stricken, but my father’s face is beet-red.

“You will do this,” he says.

The only thing that keeps me from arguing is the threat in his eyes. “I will. Because I choose to. Because I know what’s at risk. Because this will be the last thing I do for you or this family, and when I am done, you will leave me in peace. I will earn the tunnel key and my freedom and I’ll get it without argument.”

My parents look at each other warily. After an agonizing pause, my father nods.

“Fine. If you wish to abandon your family when this is over, that’s on you,” my father snaps. “Divine deliver us from ungrateful daughters who don’t understand the precarious place this family is in.”

I ignore the prayer even though it chafes. Today is too important to take the bait.

“Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the peril of the situation. Do you believe the Havenwoods are a threat?” I know the ethos of this family is that everyone is a threat, but I want to understand if he sees that threat as specific or more general.

He crosses his arms. “I believe that Mountain Haven might be outside of our walls, but they were still our people. I had a responsibility to them. I failed them ten years ago, and I can only assume they place blame on me.”

“Even though you were here in the city.”

“They had been asking for help manning their wall,” he says curtly.

“And you didn’t grant it,” I finish.

He pauses for the briefest moment, and I know there’s something he’s not saying. My father straightens. “They’ll be here any moment. There will be time for more questions later.”

He storms out of the room with my mother on his heels, and Gaven smirks at me from the doorway.

“Seems like that went well,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.

“Will you be accompanying me to Fallen Hold?” I ask.

“You should probably stop calling it that before you meet your new husband and in-laws.”

I wave a dismissive hand and pause in front of him.

“Yes, I’ll be coming with you. I’m your bodyguard. Where you go, I go. It’s a non-negotiable for your parents.”

I hate the relief I feel knowing he’ll be there.

Gaven straightens and tilts my chin up to see my face in the light pouring in the window. “Your eyes don’t look right.”

I swat his hand away and pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I’m fine. I feel better than I did last night. You can stand down.”

He nods. I thread my arm through his, and he leads me down the stairs to the first-floor hallway and toward the sitting room. My heels click on the marble tiles.

A strange, nervous rumbling settles in my stomach at possibilities I hadn’t even considered until now. What if he’s old enough to be my father, like my last husband? What if he has terrible, barbaric forest hygiene and rotting teeth? All I know about him is that he has magic that won’t be disclosed until the marriage contract is signed.

I hesitate, and Gaven pauses, turning to look at me.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh. He’s always sighing like he’s the only adult in a city of children. “I already met him and the parents this morning when I delivered their formal invitation to the signing. What do you want to know?”

Suddenly, I wish my family were normal—wish that I was surrounded by the comfort of my sisters as I go to meet the man I’m supposed to spend my life with. But I do this with just a bodyguard and my parents, who have only ever seen me as the perfect weapon for an alliance, my magic so stealthy that my act of murder would be perceived by any outsider as an act of love.

I know that the Havenwoods used to come to the city back before the fort fell, but I never met them. My parents didn’t want Aidia or me meeting any influential magic families until they were certain who they wanted us to be paired up with. The two youngest daughters from the Carrenwell family were a prize, and while Aidia had the benefit of a glamour and her light magic to sneak out without her bodyguard noticing, it took me much longer to learn how to evade Gaven.

Now I wish I had tried harder. Maybe I could have glimpsed my future husband at the last Dark Star Festival before Mountain Haven was attacked.

I glance toward the door. “Is he⁠—”

“He’s much younger than the last one, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Gaven waves a hand at me vaguely. “A bit older than you, I think, but not by much. Handsome enough, I suppose, with—the hair and eyes.”

I grin at the discomfort on his face. “You’re so eloquent when you describe suitors.”

“Can’t say I’ve had occasion to do so in the past.” He shrugs and gestures to the door. “Good luck.”

I steel myself for a moment in front of the mirror outside the sitting room. My face in the mirrored glass looks grim and discordant with my perfectly coiffed black hair and elegant dress. Gaven is right—my violet eyes don’t look quite right. They’re a bit too glassy. Hopefully, this meeting is quick, and then I can go sleep off the impending headache.

Plastering a smile on my face, I push the doors open and step into the sitting room.

My parents and two strangers turn to look at me. I narrow my eyes, but no matter how I search, there’s no color. I only find the faint whitish aura that all unblessed have.

Strange. I know that the Havenwoods have Divine blessings, but I’ve never met someone with magic I couldn’t see. This must be how every other magical family in Lunameade feels. I’m so accustomed to seeing people’s blessings and anticipating how they might use them that I’m instantly disoriented.

“Harlow, allow me to introduce our esteemed guests, Philip and Evangeline Havenwood, the magic-blessed rulers of Mountain Haven,” my father says.

He’s laying it on a bit thick, but I smile and shake both of their hands. I search for my betrothed out of the corner of my eye, but there’s no one else in the room.

I lift my gaze, looking at my mother with a question in my eyes.

“Their son, Henry, was delayed in his travel through town last night. He’s running a few minutes behind,” my mother says.

I nod, clasping my hands and smiling as naturally as I can at my future in-laws.

“We’re very sorry for his tardiness, and rest assured it will not be a regular thing, but as you can imagine, traveling through the Drained Wood takes a lot out of us,” Evangeline says. “Such unusual violet eyes. We were expecting that, of course, since all of you have some shade of purple, but they are so very striking. You’re a beautiful girl. I expect he’ll be very pleased.”

She levels a gaze at me like she’s searching for my magic. Sadly for her, that’s a talent that only Carrenwells possess.

Most of the families of Lunameade’s magical high houses choose not to reveal their gifts until they’re named heir of a house, but the Havenwoods never revealed anything, and their well blessings are mysteriously missing from the city records. I’m sure it chafes on my parents.

I am so uncomfortable under the Havenwoods’ dissecting gazes. It’s a relief when my mother hands me a cup of tea. I sip it gratefully.

The silence stretches between us, becoming awkward. Finally, the door creaks open and a young man steps inside. He pushes the door closed, and when he turns to face us, I almost fall over.

Because he’s not a stranger. He’s Asher—the man I tried to kill but ended up making out with last night.

I place my teacup on the table with a clatter, tea sloshing into the saucer.

He stills, his eyes locked on mine. Then, his mouth tips into a perfect smile that showcases the teeth that bit my thighs last night. He nods to his parents and mine and then bends to kiss my hand with a smirk. The dim light in the boarding house didn’t do him justice. His storm blue eyes are bright with mischief, and his dark hair is perfectly combed in delicate waves, unlike how mussed it was when I ran from him last night.

I can’t tell which version of him I like better.

“Henry,” he says. “You must be Harlow. Blessed Divine, you have the most striking eyes.”

He’s not looking at them when he says it. It seems almost like he’s rehearsed saying it.

“Thank you,” I mumble, nerves twisting my stomach in knots.

I wait for him to rat me out, but he turns to our parents.

“My apologies for my tardiness. I assure you it’s not an indication of my eagerness to meet my bride.” He meets my eye again and winks. “She seems just as eager, so let’s get this started.”

Cocky bastard. An unfamiliar heat rises to my cheeks as I remember the way it felt to kiss him, the softness of his mouth, the eagerness of his hands on my skin, the way he nipped at my thighs and made me shudder.

He leans close. “Lady Stellaria, you are full of delightful secrets. Was that just one last romp before the big day, or should I expect it to be a regular thing?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I keep my face placid, staring at our parents, who are gathering around a small table.

“As you can see, I’ve had the contract drawn up to stipulate that her first marriage payment will be delivered within a week of the wedding,” my father says. “The following three will be paid once a season through the first year to ensure a smooth transition.”

To ensure you don’t murder our daughter until we have more time to solidify long-term trade deals and peace, is what they really mean.

I want to focus on what they’re saying, but I can feel Henry’s eyes on me. I look up, and he grins. I doubt he’ll be grinning when the contract is signed and my magic is revealed.

“Yes, and we approve of your request to negotiate trade as we celebrate the new engagement with events over the next two weeks here in Lunameade,” Philip says.

My father nods. “Excellent. Everything else is in order. Shall we sign and bind the deal?”

He cuts his finger and dips in a quill, signing his name in blood on the contract. My mother goes next, followed by the Havenwoods. Lunameade’s magic requires blood. It has ever since the discovery of the well—and contracts are no exception.

My hand shakes, but I hardly feel the blade. My secret life is about to be unearthed, and it will doom me and the rest of Lunameade.

I look up at my mother, pleading with her with my eyes, trying to find a way to stall, but she just nods and hands me the quill.

I sign my name. Then, Henry signs his.

“Now, what is this power you’ve assured us is potent and deadly?” Philip asks.

I hold Henry’s gaze. He’s still grinning, his eyes fixed on my mouth. I lean against the bookshelf beside me, brushing my fingers over an ornamental dagger that sits there. It’s probably not very sharp, but better that than nothing, especially since my magic isn’t working.

“As you can see, our youngest daughter is a great beauty, which perfectly hides her deadly gift.” My father loves to address my beauty so that people will ignore my more advanced age. Thirty is old for a marriage, even if I am a widow, but he makes sure to remind everyone how lovely I am, so they forget that my childbearing years are limited.

He lets the pause stretch out before he speaks the words sure to start a war between our families. “Harlow has a poison kiss.”

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