“Please, Ren’wyn, please,” she begged from the other side of the locked door.“Your father is threatening to have you whipped.I’m frightened.”
The words pricked the last fragile piece of Ren’wyn’s compassion.Wearily, she crawled out from under the blankets, unlocking the latch.
“Ren’wyn,” Lyr’ren sobbed, wrapping Ren’wyn tightly in the rose-scented embrace she knew so well.“Please come to supper.Please.”
Ren’wyn let her mother guide her to the vanity, where Lyr’ren brushed her tangled hair and helped her into a dress.The gray fabric, once her favorite, felt rough and heavy against herskin.
At the table, Vair sneered at her.“When did you become so mopey?”he mocked.“I’m glad you’re Erst’s problem now.There’s no way for him to back out, not with the agreement settled!”
Lyr’ren’s fist tightened on her fork, her knuckles white, but she stayed silent.Vair’s cruel laughter echoed around the room, stripping away what little appetite Ren’wyn had managed to muster.
Supper was mercifully short, and Ren’wyn bolted from the dining hall as soon as was acceptable.Lyr’ren knocked insistently, but Ren’wyn couldn’t answer.Instead, she opened the window, clutching the sill as though it were her only anchor.Her breath came fast and shallow, panic rising.
A vivid vision overtook her: Esrin, slumped over his horse, an arrow piercing his throat.
“Oh gods,” she whimpered, her fingers digging into the wood.The vision didn’t fade but grew until a scream tore from her throat.
Lyr’ren’s voice came urgently from outside the door.Then, she called for the key, breaking her long-held promise of privacy.
The door burst open, and Lyr’ren rushed to her side, arms strong and steady in the dark room.“Breathe, sweetheart.Breathe,” she urged.
The cadence of Lyr’ren’s strong, steady heartbeat anchored Ren’wyn.Gradually, her breath slowed, her muscles relaxing one by one.She slumped onto the window seat, clinging to Lyr’ren and the comforting scent of roses, and her mother hummed.Trailing her fingers through Ren’wyn’s hair, Lyr’ren hummed until Ren’wyn could picture the birds soaringfree.
She finally calmed, and Lyr’ren pulled her to herfeet.
“This is important, my darling, so listen carefully,” she whispered, brushing the remaining tears away.“I know what it is to be engaged to a cruel man, to live and serve a husband who cares nothing for me.Don’t lose hope, Ren’wyn.I have one last contact—my uncle, Lord Allwen.He might yet take us in and help us find safety.Tomorrow morning, I will ride to him.Please, I’m begging you, hold on until I return.”
The woman who had so often stood silent in the face of Vair’s cruelty was fighting for freedom, and the disbelief shocked Ren’wyn out of her apathy.
“I promise, Mother,” Ren’wyn whispered, drawing on that flicker of strength.“I’ll wait foryou.”
Lyr’ren kissed her forehead firmly, the first sign of her strength in years.“I will be back in threedays.”
Ren’wyn woke in the early afternoon to a furious pounding at herdoor.
“My Lady Ren’wyn?”
It was Heren, the steward.Why would he bother her of all people?Ignoring the ache in her limbs, she slipped out of bed and pulled on herrobe.
“Yes?”she responded, cracking the dooropen.
“It’s your mother, Lady Ren’wyn,” he said breathlessly.“I cannot find your father, and she…she…”
A vice of terror gripped her chest.“Tell me, Heren.”
“Her horse spooked on the road and threw her.She is dead, mylady.”
Her knees buckled, and a horrible sound filled the room—raw and anguished.It was a moment before Ren’wyn realized the screams were her own.Then, the world went black.
When Ren’wyn awoke, she was in the parlor.Vair stood over her, listening as Heren gave the report.A freak accident.A cruel twist of fate.For a brief moment, something flickered in Vair’s eyes—regret, anger, or perhaps nothing at all.Then his mask returned.
“Tell the staff to make preparations for Lyr’ren’s funeral,” he ordered.
Turning to Ren’wyn, still struggling to consciousness, he snarled, “Take today to pack your things.Tomorrow will be your mother’s funeral.The morning after, I’m sending you to Erst to wait for your wedding.”
His words ground her spirit down.This couldn’t be happening.Esrin was gone.Her mother was gone.How could all of this happen to one person?
A maidservant gently lifted her and carried her upstairs.Her room, once a safe haven, now felt suffocating.She let the servants pack her belongings, answering their questions in a daze from her bed.Both lunch and supper were refused.When the door finally closed behind those carrying her suitcases, Ren’wyn surrendered to the darkness, letting it consumeher.
