harbored toward her now. She’d struck a great blow to his pride when Caplin helped her dissolve their engagement.
She maintained the illusion for the rest of her walk, discarding it with a shuddering exhale at the bottom of the staircase leading up to her rooms. Her gaze drifted up those steps to her door and she deflated. The unfortunate truth was that she hated to be alone and that craving for company undermined her purpose. How could she continue taking control of her life when doing so had brought her nothing but sorrow so far?
Perhaps she would take Edan up on the offer of supper after all. It might be amusing to see how Serivar responded to the situation and perhaps she would find a friend in the young lord if she gave him a chance. The fact that she wouldn’t have to hide the King’s Order from him was enough by itself to make befriending him worth some effort.
Tomorrow .
Several minutes later, she stood staring into her wardrobe, uncertain as to what had compelled her to open it in the first place. After a few more seconds of staring at her assortment of clothing, she drew out the soft gray cloak Yiloch had given her the day she left Lyra. It belonged to his deceased mother who he had loved dearly. A precious gift from a man she couldn’t stop loving, no matter the miles between them. Wrapping the cloak around her shoulders, she walked out to the couch and curled up against a pillow, closing her eyes to savor the welcome memory of his touch.
•
Indigo squeezed her mother’s hand as tight as she could. Her seven-year-old heart fluttered like that of a tiny bird as twelve well-armed soldiers marched into the foyer of their home, moving around either side of the scowling guardsman at their head. All but two began to spread out through the house, searching for something. Those two remained, awaiting orders.
She glanced up, seeking comfort, but her mother was busy glaring at the guardsman, her lower lip trembling while her red-rimmed eyes filling with moisture.
“Serana Milan, you will wait here until the search is complete,” the guardsman ordered. His dark eyes were cold and wary.
What could her mother, fragile as she was, have possibly done to earn the distrust in those eyes?
“I demand to know what’s going on. This is my home.” Serana’s hand trembled in Indigo’s grasp as she shouted at the guardsman.
That cold gaze sank to Indigo and she stepped closer to her mother’s side. “Your husband, Desgard Milan, was arrested this morning for leading an attack against a slave caravan. There is evidence connecting him to numerous other such attacks. He is heretofore stripped of all lands and titles. He will stand trial for treason and face appropriate punishment for his crimes.”
A shudder passed through her mother, shaking her like an autumn leaf in the wind, clinging to its branch. Cold fear spread through the pit of Indigo’s stomach. She squeezed her mother’s hand even tighter. There was no reassurance in it. The hand wasn’t any stronger than her own.
“And what is to become of me?”
Indigo winced at the lack of inclusion in her mother’s question. It stung, though it didn’t surprise somehow.
The guard’s gaze was still on Indigo. She wanted to run from those judging eyes, but then something stirred in their depths, a glimmer of sympathy that vanished when he looked at her mother again. “You will stay here under watch until such time as your husband has been tried and sentenced. If there is no evidence found suggesting your knowledge of or involvement in his crimes, you will be free to leave this place.”
“To go where?” Her voice cracked. She yanked her hand away from Indigo and fled down the hall, sobs echoing back to them.
Indigo watched her go, one of the remaining soldiers giving chase at a nod from his captain. She tried to feel abandoned, but couldn’t generate the sense of loss. How many days of her life had her mother wasted crying and fretting while
She maintained the illusion for the rest of her walk, discarding it with a shuddering exhale at the bottom of the staircase leading up to her rooms. Her gaze drifted up those steps to her door and she deflated. The unfortunate truth was that she hated to be alone and that craving for company undermined her purpose. How could she continue taking control of her life when doing so had brought her nothing but sorrow so far?
Perhaps she would take Edan up on the offer of supper after all. It might be amusing to see how Serivar responded to the situation and perhaps she would find a friend in the young lord if she gave him a chance. The fact that she wouldn’t have to hide the King’s Order from him was enough by itself to make befriending him worth some effort.
Tomorrow .
Several minutes later, she stood staring into her wardrobe, uncertain as to what had compelled her to open it in the first place. After a few more seconds of staring at her assortment of clothing, she drew out the soft gray cloak Yiloch had given her the day she left Lyra. It belonged to his deceased mother who he had loved dearly. A precious gift from a man she couldn’t stop loving, no matter the miles between them. Wrapping the cloak around her shoulders, she walked out to the couch and curled up against a pillow, closing her eyes to savor the welcome memory of his touch.
•
Indigo squeezed her mother’s hand as tight as she could. Her seven-year-old heart fluttered like that of a tiny bird as twelve well-armed soldiers marched into the foyer of their home, moving around either side of the scowling guardsman at their head. All but two began to spread out through the house, searching for something. Those two remained, awaiting orders.
She glanced up, seeking comfort, but her mother was busy glaring at the guardsman, her lower lip trembling while her red-rimmed eyes filling with moisture.
“Serana Milan, you will wait here until the search is complete,” the guardsman ordered. His dark eyes were cold and wary.
What could her mother, fragile as she was, have possibly done to earn the distrust in those eyes?
“I demand to know what’s going on. This is my home.” Serana’s hand trembled in Indigo’s grasp as she shouted at the guardsman.
That cold gaze sank to Indigo and she stepped closer to her mother’s side. “Your husband, Desgard Milan, was arrested this morning for leading an attack against a slave caravan. There is evidence connecting him to numerous other such attacks. He is heretofore stripped of all lands and titles. He will stand trial for treason and face appropriate punishment for his crimes.”
A shudder passed through her mother, shaking her like an autumn leaf in the wind, clinging to its branch. Cold fear spread through the pit of Indigo’s stomach. She squeezed her mother’s hand even tighter. There was no reassurance in it. The hand wasn’t any stronger than her own.
“And what is to become of me?”
Indigo winced at the lack of inclusion in her mother’s question. It stung, though it didn’t surprise somehow.
The guard’s gaze was still on Indigo. She wanted to run from those judging eyes, but then something stirred in their depths, a glimmer of sympathy that vanished when he looked at her mother again. “You will stay here under watch until such time as your husband has been tried and sentenced. If there is no evidence found suggesting your knowledge of or involvement in his crimes, you will be free to leave this place.”
“To go where?” Her voice cracked. She yanked her hand away from Indigo and fled down the hall, sobs echoing back to them.
Indigo watched her go, one of the remaining soldiers giving chase at a nod from his captain. She tried to feel abandoned, but couldn’t generate the sense of loss. How many days of her life had her mother wasted crying and fretting while
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