White: Emala's Story (Ragoru Beginnings Book 1) Read online

  “Erik, this is really too much,” she protested with a giggle. In reality, she wanted nothing more than to pull his brand of ownership off her neck and throw it as far away from her as possible. Her mother had been many times worthy of the gift, yet he offered it to Emala. Mari and her mother had been right. A small part of her hadn’t wanted to believe it but she couldn’t ignore it now that it was staring her in the face. Now she could do nothing but bide her time until she could flee.

  “It is appropriate for the future I wished to discuss with you,” he stated firmly as he circled back around to the other side of his desk and sat once more, his gray eyes piercing her. She worried that he could see right through her to the plans forming in her mind.

  “What future is that?” she asked as she widened her eyes innocently.

  “As you know, the world is hard for women. There are more women than men, even in our fair Citadel. Many struggle to live from day to day, and many more live out their days as laborers, never knowing the comfort of family. I am of the age where I yearn for an heir. Your mother, goddess bless her, was unable to provide it, and her health continues to wane. I fear that she may not be long for this world.” He frowned and sighed wearily. “I would like to continue to provide for you, Emala. I wish for you to remain at my side when your mother eventually passes into the next world—as my wife.”

  “Oh! This is so unexpected... and most generous,” she lied, her tongue tasting the bile rising from her gullet.

  Erik gave her an approving look. “It’s settled, then. I trust you understand that I’ll expect you to comport yourself as if we are married. Any dalliances you may have will cease and you will make yourself available at my room every night until we are married and thereafter.”

  “Of course. It will be as you say, Erik.” Emala clenched her fingers anxiously and went for a shy smile. “There is much I need to see to prepare myself for tonight. If I may be excused...?”

  “Certainly, my dear! I will look for you at the tenth hour this evening.”

  Dropping her head respectfully to him, Emala turned and made a point not to rush out of the room. Under the pretense of stealing small, coy glances over her shoulder, she was relieved to see that Erik’s smile never left his face as he watched her leave.

  Even after the door closed behind her, she did not drop her guard. Mirrors lined every hall, a large one facing the office door. She did not know how the old tech worked. It seemed almost too close to magic to her. She doubted that even Erik really knew how they operated, knowing only just enough to use them. Though she’d been too far away to get a good look at the small mirror-like disc on his desk, she would bet anything that the mirrors transmitted images to it.

  Much of the old tech had failed over generations. Bit by bit, the machines on which their ancestors depended ceased working. People whispered with worry about the day when the electricity might finally fail, one of the last surviving remnants of the Citadel’s past comforts. When it goes, so too would go the ability to heat water. Old robotics, those which hadn’t been melted down for their metal, could be seen in the Museum of Ancient History at the heart of the Citadel. She’d spent hours there in her youth admiring preserved art and some of the more impressive tech displays. It was the only reason that she knew anything about the mirrors at all. They had a small set displayed, but they were nothing compared to what Erik had accumulated.

  The mirrors had a distinct look to them that she’d been able to discern early on. Until her mother had warned her, she always assumed that they were collected as a curiosity. She’d made it a game in her youth to check every mirror to look for the distinctive forms and marks that indicated it was a “magic mirror,” or “Queen’s mirror” as they were called in the height of their production according to the museum. She hadn’t imagined that they would still be operational.

  Thankfully, the mirrors in the bedrooms and bathing rooms were all normal. She would have once said that Erik was too noble to use them in such places, but she understood now that it was more likely that he mounted them in the strategic areas. It couldn’t be a mistake that mirrors graced the wall opposite of every chamber and main room where they would be able to best track the movements of inhabitants and servants.

  Emala repressed a shudder as she turned away from the mirror facing her own door. She knew from memory that the sleek lines of the frame were graceful. She’d never been so happy to be in her room until that moment. Usually, she chafed being kept so much within the manor. She’d been educated at an accelerated rate by tutors, and her occasional trips with them to the botanical gardens for science or to the museum had been her few forays into the outside world since she and Jaryna took up residence with him. Now her room dominated her thoughts as her only sanctuary away from scrutiny. The gently worn furniture with pink upholstery and bedding was a familiar sight, comforting amid all the changes that occurred that day.

  If Erik had his way, however, it would offer her no comfort before long.

  She resisted the urge to sob as she took one last fond look around before turning resolutely toward the bureau. Mari would arrive for her shortly. She couldn’t afford to dawdle over childhood memories. She needed to prepare to flee. That was the only true recourse open to her. No one would give her sanctuary against a man with so much influence in the Citadel. She had no choice but to do what her mother advised through her ramblings. She would need to go on foot into the mountains and pray that she found sanctuary.

  She pulled open the top drawer and stared down at the pile of cotton undergarments. How was she even going to pack her things? She didn’t own an overnight bag or anything similar since she had been so rarely allowed outside the manner. She glanced at her bedding.

  Well, that was one option.

  When she was thirteen, Emala tried to use a pillowcase to smuggle in a puppy that had squeezed under their courtyard gate. Erik had been furious. She hadn’t been certain what angered him the most: bringing a stray into his house, or ruining her expensive bedding. Whatever the case, it had been the first time he ordered the manor’s overseer to beat her. From that day on, she hadn’t dared to break any of Erik’s rules.

  Until now.

  Emala didn’t hesitate to strip off the silky pillowcase.

  Critically, she held up the material and eyed it. It wouldn’t give her much room to carry her belongings. She would have to be frugal with what she decided to take. A dress would take up too much room in her improvised sack. She would make the one she wore last as long as possible, packing only one spare with several pairs of underwear. She left the upper half of the makeshift bag free for provisions. She stared at her small collection of belongings and realized she had no idea how she was going to acquire provisions without drawing attention to herself.

  Lost in thought, her hand snaked up to toy with the unfamiliar weight of the pendant. Emala’s fingers closed around it as her eyes widened. Part of her wanted to break the chain and throw it as far from her as possible, but the more practical side understood its value. Expensive jewelry could help her secure safe passage and buy food and basic supplies that she might need. Maybe even a horse! A smile danced on her lips at the thought of using Erik’s trinket to finance her escape.

  The only thing that would have made it sweeter was if there had been any way to take her mother with her. Even if Jaryna had been physically healthy enough to make the journey, her spirit had no more connection with this world. Emala felt numb at the thought. The time had come for Jaryna to rejoin the males she called out to in the night and in the depths of her delirium. It broke Emala’s heart to acknowledge it.

  She couldn’t stop the flow of tears as her bottom hit the soft mattress. She would allow herself this moment to grieve. With her eyes fastened on the door, she allowed her pain and anger at her mother’s fate to flow. Emala didn’t know how long she sat there, drifting in her sorrow, but she jumped up and swiped away all traces of tears when a sharp knock sounded at her door. Leaving her sack tucked behind the foo
t of the bed, just in case it was Erik or a guard who would report to him, Emala went to the door and opened it.

  Mari held a tray close to her bosom. Emala blinked at the servant. There was something different about her. Had the maid been so... curvy before?

  The woman in question gave her a meaningful look. “Mistress, you are interested in taking your meal, yes?”

  “Oh, of course. My apologies. My mind was elsewhere,” she forced a cheerful smile without glancing at the mirror behind Mari. “Please do come in and set the tray on the table.”

  Emala backed up and Mari breezed by her with every appearance of the dutiful servant. She set the tray on the table just as Emala shut the door. As soon as the door shut the woman’s shoulders relaxed and she hustled to Emala’s side to give her a gentle push toward the table.

  “Have a seat and eat up. You are going to need your strength. You will not always have the opportunity for a filling meal like this when you are out there—trust me. Eat now while you can. I went out to the village to get a small treat especially for you, if you don’t mind me being so forward. I know how much you love apples, Miss.”

  Emala nodded and sat in front of the tray. Despite herself, she had to smile at the pretty apple tart sitting neatly on a small dish. She was touched that Mari had taken notice and remembered such a small detail.

  “I remember when Jaryna brought me into the manor. I had just turned sixteen and was still a little lost and unsure. I was still recovering from my illness at that time. Erik was a hard master, even then. She snuck me extra food, from her own plate I suspect, and whenever she went into the Citadel with you, she always brought home some small treat that she saved as a special gift for me. More often than not, it was an apple tart—because you always wanted more than you could possibly eat. It made her laugh. ‘Emala and her apples, one of these days she will get quite sick of them,’ she would say. It made me feel like we were a family, like sisters, when I couldn’t be with my family. She made it easier. So now, like a good sister, though the rules of the house forbade us to know each other, I will now help you.” With that, Mari turned back to her task.

  A wave of guilt washed over Emala once more. She hadn’t realized that her mother had such a special relationship with Mari. Emala felt like she had been living her life utterly clueless, isolated by her lessons and tutors. Her time with her mother had been limited for much of her memory to small excursions under the eye of Erik or another escort. That Mari had been as another daughter, and likely a far closer one than Emala was able to be, pained her.

  She sighed and looked at the meal in front of her. It was a lot of food. She set aside the tart for herself and smiled over at the servant. “Mari, please sit and join me. I understand that you want me to eat my fill, but this is far too much. We should break bread together at least once before I leave.”

  Mari jerked in surprise from where she knelt to pick up Emala’s improvised sack. Her stays hung loose and her added girth seemed to have disappeared. On the bed sat a small pile of pouches that the ingenious woman had smuggled into her room. Emala stared at the pile with such surprise that Mari laughed. “I am the daughter of thieves. Knowing how to stash goods on oneself is an important lesson you learn early in life if you want to avoid getting caught,” she said with an impish grin as she sat across from Emala.

  Emala watched her companion swallow and look upon the food with longing. “Are you sure you want to share your meal with me?” Mari asked in a whisper.

  “Without a doubt. We’ll shift the food around on this second plate so that you may have a plate yourself and we will divide this fine meal between us.”

  Within short order, they each had a plate full of food in front of them. Emala hadn’t enjoyed the company of a dining companion since her mother had become too ill to leave her rooms, and Erik always took his meals in his office or in the great hall of the Order on days where he was paying a supervisory visit to oversee one matter or another. The other young woman’s presence was a balm to her troubled soul. Mari’s eyes were sad with the knowledge of what was coming but she smiled companionably with genuine pleasure as they ate together.

  Though they didn’t speak much during that meal, Emala found it strangely comforting. Focusing on another person’s presence allowed her to forget her concerns over what fate may meet her on the other side of the mountains, though only for a few blessed moments. The peaks looked daunting even when viewing them from the distance of the Citadel. She couldn’t imagine facing them head-on. She bit into the roast goose and tried to dismiss her worries. She would have to face it soon enough.

  Chapter 3

  Emala’s fingers twisted together nervously as she followed after Mari. She resisted the urge to adjust the bundle that Mari had lashed to her hips beneath her voluminous skirts. She felt the added bulk but doubted that anyone watching would notice. She did her best to ignore the weight and the brush of the fabric against her thighs. She only had to endure the discomfort until she was out of sight of the mirrors.

  Following Mari’s suggestion, she fell into line beside the servant, placing Mari between Emala and the mirror as they passed from her bedroom into the hallway. The other woman’s voice was low as she spoke. “This house is quite old. It was constructed during a time of civil strife before the era of the Oracle and the peace she brought to the Citadel. There is a secret passage that runs from the house to the outer limits of the city, an escape route built by the previous inhabitants should they ever need it. The exit is sealed, so the Thieves Guild cannot access the house through the tunnels. When I entered into employment here, my family pilfered the plans from the architect’s estate and showed me the diagram should I need to escape.”

  “If your family belongs to the Thieves Guild, why did you remain here? Why do you stay within Erik’s reach?”

  Mari’s brows arched in surprise. “Two reasons, really. You were untouched by it, but the sickness ravaged the lower classes and swept through the Guild like wildfire despite our best attempts to steal enough medicine to treat it. After I lost two siblings to it, I was left so weak that my parents worried I wouldn’t be able to survive the hard life we were forced to live. When your mother offered to take me into her service, my family was relieved even though it made us sad to be separated. By the time that Erik began to take notice of me, I couldn’t bear to abandon your mother to him.”

  “You gave up so much,” Emala murmured. “I can’t thank you enough for what you have done for my mother... and now putting yourself in danger to help me.”

  Mari stopped and faced her. She didn’t directly touch her or do anything that might look suspicious to prying eyes. Instead, she reached forward with one hand and pretended to fix the collar on Emala’s blouse. “Do not worry for me. I will be gone long before anyone realizes. If you want to thank me, you will do so by leaving this place far behind and do not, ever look back. Find a happy life for yourself. Just follow the directions that I give you and do not veer from them.”

  “And this is the route I will be taking?” Emala whispered. “Wouldn’t Erik already know of it?”

  “It is possible that he does, but he will not likely suspect anyone else knows of it, so I doubt he would have put any of his few precious mirrors in the passageway itself.”

  “So where is it located? And how will I access it without him seeing me?”

  “It is in the library. I am merely accompanying you there. Go to a shelf and remove a book. Sit on the settee near the shelves as I begin to clean. I will make my way around the room. Every week, I clean all the mirrors and surfaces of the library. When I stand in front of the Queen’s Mirror and begin to wipe it down, make for the narrow bookshelf on the western wall. It will be easy to spot because it holds an unusually large number of musty old books on it. On the third shelf on the right-hand side, if you slip your fingers back along the bottom of the shelf above it, you will find a catch that will allow you to open the entrance to the passage. Just be sure to pull it firmly closed behin
d you. I will not be able to help you at that point. I’ve packed you some food and a small bag of gold coins that your mother gave me for you. She’s been saving all these years, squirreling away a few coins for the day you would need them.”

  Emala’s heart weighed heavy with sorrow and gratitude. Despite her slips into delirium, her mother hadn’t stopped caring for her. She wished that she could be there in Mari’s place to see to her mother’s final moments. The thought made her realize something, and a frown knitted her brow. “What about you?”

  Mari laughed as she reached over to squeeze Emala’s fingers. “Me? I know nothing. I am just the servant cleaning, after all. As soon as I see to Jaryna, I too will disappear from this house. I’ve informed my family days ago when Jaryna took me into her confidence. They are waiting for me.”

  Emala fidgeted as they approached the library doors. She had little resistance against the wave of nerves that swept over her. She worried not only for herself but for Mari and her mother. There was a chance that either or both of them could get caught. She had no doubt that Erik would be inventive with his punishment if they were found out. She tried not to look at the imposing mirror beside the library doors. Mari stepped around her to open the door wide, her voice loud as she addressed Emala. “Thank you for accompanying me, Lady Emala. If there is anything you need while I am cleaning, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Oh, I will be no trouble,” she demurred, moving into her role with surprising ease. She just had to pretend as if it had been any other day and she was conversing with the servants. Such a thing was not unusual for her, given how little company she had in the manor. “I am just going to sit and read for a bit. I have a small case of nerves about this evening.” She giggled as she swept by Mari. “I am hoping that a good book will relax me.”