Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) (2 page)

Lian cringed. She hated that voice the most.
Spoiled, selfish pig!

Wevern’s round face was flushed and shiny with sweat. He snorted and reached to loosen his collar. “Orris should draft you into the palace guard. Gods, maybe I’ll hire you. I could use a bodyguard of your skill.”

The women clucked and whinnied even louder.

Lian blushed and glared at them. She wondered if Wevern would comment on her skill with an arrow sticking out of his body. That was definitely a target she wouldn’t miss; there was certainly enough of him. Greed had kept him well fed over the years.

More taunts followed, filling her head until there was no room left for her own thoughts. Flustered, she dropped the bow and all but ran from the training yard. Gabriel called after her, but she could barely hear him past the cawing of the courtiers. 

Her body was sore from the many hours she spent before the target, but she did not want to stop running because the longer she ran, the more her head cleared. She darted through the armory and staggered into the guard’s wing. Cool air rushed to greet her
,
and she inhaled deeply, relishing the subtle drop in temperature against her balmy skin. It stank of sweat and mold.

Walls of black glass rose on both sides, and dots of to
rchlight flecked the floor. Taking
a few steps east,
she
stumbled on a set of stairs hidden along the shadow of the wall. She fell, as did her reflection, crushing her knee against the stone.
With her knee smarting, s
he bit back a curse as strong hands helped her up.
The shards of pain slicing through her leg took all her attention, and s
he never heard Gabriel approach. “Why do you always run away?” he asked.

“Isn’t that what prey does? Run from the predator?” She didn’t look at him, staring instead at her foggy reflection. Her breeches and blouse were in dire need of a wash.

“That’s not good enough, not with this type of predator. They’re more like the Trewsard. They give chase.”

She shuddered at the mention of the tiny, thorny serpents. “Vile creatures. The courtiers have one thing in common with them: they both have the soul-sucking part
down
.”

No sooner had she said it, laughter echoed toward them.

“Quick!” Lian took his hand and felt along the wall until she grasped a rickety wrought-iron handle. Before Gabriel could protest, she opened the broom closet and shoved him inside, pulling the door closed
quietly
as the courtiers rounded the corner.

Tendrils of easy conversation floated through the cracks of the door. “I blame the mother. It probably would have been better if the girl had never been born.”

“Oh, Lord Wevern! Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

“Don’t misunderstand, my dear. She’s good fun to watch… in more than one way.”

Lian shuddered as
the wome
n gasped and giggled.

“It’s not harsh at all,” said a cool voice. “It certainly would have saved the poor Duchess some grief.”

“Lies, all of it. I’d never believe it. Why, when she was younger, Feron would take out little Ana-Elise for carriage rides along the river. And
don’t you know he took Lianora
as well, despite all the rumors? He’s a good man, I tell you. She has to be orphaned. Orphaned and adopted by our magnanimous lord…”

Lian’s hand brushed Gabriel’s, sending a wave of goose bumps up her arm. What would it feel like to hold his hand? Would it be as
rough and calloused as
her own?

Neither of them breathed as the crowd bustled past
,
and Lian’s face grew hotter. At last, the hall fell silent
,
and Lian let out the breath she had been holding. Streaks of torchlight wavered on Gabriel’s tense face. “Don’t look at me like that,”
she
snapped. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t look fine.”

She ignored him and started open
ing
the door when he caught her wrist. “Stop. You need to stand up to them, or they’ll
only
keep at it.”

“And if I don’t care what they think?”

“Tch. I don’t believe it.”

“Well, maybe you should. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late for dinner.”

She pushed back a stray curl and reached for the door
right
as it swung open.
Orris, Captain of the
Royal
Guard and
leader
of Asilee’s
armies,
stood in the doorway. “Well, well. Isn’t this interesting?” came
his
grating voice. “Am I interrupting one of your lessons, Gabriel?”

Gabriel bristled. “Meaning?”

Orris’ dark hair was pulled back into a crisp knot, making his disfigured face look more grotesque. The scar that smeared his lips turned up at the corners into a vicious smile. “Nothing.” He gave the frame of the closet a pointed look. “
I was only
curious.”

Gabriel nudged Lian, and she snapped out of her trance. Putting on the haughtiest air she could, she shoved past Orris into
the hall. “Always a pleasure, C
aptain. Gabriel, thank you for the archery lesson.” She emphasized a
rchery
and turned on her heel, only to be stopped by Orris’ next words.

“The d
uke assigned me as your escort this evening.”

Lian froze. She had not expected this. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and slowly turned around. Shadows flickered on Orris’ face as he studied her, bouncing in odd ways off the long scar running from his temple to his jaw. She shivered. He belonged in a nightmare, body and soul.

She
heard stories growing up of evil spirits that could incinerate a person’s soul, easily slipping its own being into the vacant body. Stari
ng at Orris, she almost would have
believed it possible
,
had it not been such a silly notion.

She pursed her lips and looked him head-on. “Is that so? Well, you can tell my father that –”

“Actually, sir, it would be my honor to escort the lady to dinner,” Gabriel said quickly, stepping between them. “As captain, I’m sure you have far more important matters to attend to.”

“How chivalrous of you. But unless I’m mistaken, you have a squadron to train, White Knight.”

White was the next to highest rank, under gold and equal to black. At a remarkable show at last month’s trials, Gabriel had achieved the status shortly before he turned eighteen.

Orris didn’t wait for her reply. He shoved Gabriel aside, gripped her forearm so tight she thought it would snap in half, and hooked it under his
arm
. It took every ounce of willpow
er she had to keep from gagging. H
e reeked of vern, a potent hallucinogen, and a few other foul odors she couldn’t place.
“How dare you!
” she cried.
“
Release me this –”

“It’s fine, my L
ady,” Gabriel said, catching her eyes and slightly sh
aking his head in warning. “I shall
see you soon.”  He bowed stiffly and disappeared ba
ck the direction they had come.

Orris watched him go, black eyes glittering. Without warning, he jerked her around the corner so violently that she slipped and nearly fell. He gripped her arm tighter, which she hadn’t thought possible, as he took to a brisk pace that left her practically sprinting to k
eep up with his long strides.

Within seconds, they cleared the hall and
bounded
up
the stairs to the second story.
He dragged
her along
like a doll the entire way. Her
chambers
were
close, for which she was grateful
because her arm was beginning to lose circulation. She squirmed, trying to wriggle free. “I think I can find my way from here. There’s no need f
or you –”

“What use does a lady have for archery?”

“What use do
es a captain have for cruelty?”

He came to a jolting halt. Her heart skipped a beat as he yanked her arm to his chest so his face was only a few inches from hers. His eyes looked strange, almost like the pupils were tinged with fire. Not wanting to be the first to break eye contact, she resisted the urge to shake her head.
It’s the torchlight playing tricks with my mind.

He leaned close, eyes black as night. “What gives you the right to judge me, captain of the strongest army in Asilee? You’re just a bastard child birthed in a gutter by som
e nameless whore.
”

A sharp pain twisted at her heart, but she refused to acknowledge it. It seemed like minutes passed before she spoke, voice cold
as ice. “Release my arm. Now.”

Dim light gleamed off the armor resting on his skin, skin so scarred it looked more like scales. She let her eyes slide over the layers of steel until they rested on the Accalian Crest, a sword framed by large wings, adorning the chest plate over his heart. It was meant to symbolize honor and bravery.
“You don’t deserve to wear it.”

She hadn’t realized she had spoken out loud until he sucked in a tight breath. His hand went to the hilt of his sword,
and for a moment she feared
he would skewer her right there. Anger flaring, she lifted her chin and locked eyes with him. “I dare you. Show the world what a monster you really are.” 

He gave her one last hard look before relaxing his hold and shoving her backward. She stumbled and rubbed her arm. Soreness was already setting in, and she was sure she would have bruises.  

Orris stepped back and eyed her with a mixture of pity and disgust. “When are you going to stop pretending, Lianora? You’ll never be Ana-Elise.”

Lian tensed at the m
ention of her older half-sister
but managed to keep her temper in check. It was a familiar insult, one she’d heard countless times over the years.
I understand
. Ana is perfect; I’m not. Thank you for reminding me yet again.

He paused to sling his cape over one shoulder. “You hav
e exactly fifteen minutes. The d
uke wants you there on time for once. I will send for Ursa.” Then he stalked down the hall and faded into the shadows.

As he rattled away, her chest tightened from trying to contain the emotions fighting inside her: embarrassment, shame, envy, rage, despair. She rolled up h
er sleeve and looked at her arm;
purple imprints of large fingers were beginning to rise.

She ran the last few feet to her
chambers
, flung open the door, and slammed it shut with a cry of frustrati
on. The room
was black as pitch;
apparently
no servants had
been by to light
any candles. In an odd way, it
was comforting because
there was
neither sight nor
sound, only her.

Falling against the door, she sank to the floor,
cradling her br
uised arm
as she did
to keep it still. With delicate movements, she
rubbed it with her free hand, trying to soothe the throbbing.

You’ll never be Ana-Elise.
 
             

She was sick of it, all of it. The palace, the court, the weight of her identity. The air felt thin as her chest constricted and her breath quickened with the first pinpricks of hot tears.

I have to get out of here.

Her vision blurred. The sensation startled her; she had not cried in so long she had nearly forgotten what it was like. Weakness of any kind made one much too vulnerable for the Court of Night, and she had long since learned to bury her pain and put on an indifferent front.

She rubbed her eyes, as if she could keep the tears inside if she pressed hard enough. Though it felt strange to cry, she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop.
It’s too much.
Why not
let it happen
? You are
alone
, after all
.

She drew up her knees and gingerly wrapped her arms around them. Then she laid her head down on the fold of her good arm and stopped fighting it. The tears formed a stream down her arms and dripped from her fingertips, washing away her emotions until she didn’t really feel anything at all. She was so consumed by her grief that she almost missed it.

Ching, ching, ching.
             

It came from beside her, where the tears raining from her fingertips pooled on the floor. It was like the world had stopped so that little sound
could be heard. It was metallic
but with overtones and harmonies. The object bounced one last time before settling in front of her.