The Ward Ch. 08

Aleksis snorted.

"Before you turned me, you remarked on the preciousness of your gift, but I only accepted it for Sage's sake," Simon insisted. "That gift is only precious to one who desires it. One should not be expected to take a path simply because it is coveted by others. You made your choice, as did I. Sage is entitled to her say."

Aleksis' black eyes flashed and he slowly pushed up to a sitting position, his expression made Simon press back against the wall.

"Perhaps it was not in my interests to invest any time in the study of reversal," Aleksis said slowly, his fingers entwined in his lap, his handsome face fierce. He stood from the couch and strode to the exit, his back to Simon. He paused in the doorway to turn his head.

"Even if she were not to be my companion, I would not have the strength to watch Sage wither with age and die. For her to leave this world forever-"

"Then perhaps it is you who must leave," Simon interrupted with quiet wisdom, his glowing brown eyes sympathetic on Aleksis' tensed shoulders. "But you must cure her, first. You must try, my Lord."

******

Sage curled up in a corner of her large bed, one finger tracing the bedpost engraving as thoughts battled for dominance in her mind. She did not want to remember the Stiles' or dwell on Aleksis or try to picture a future with a new guardian of her blood. Her blood...

With a frustrated sigh she rolled onto her back, her fingers entwined on her belly, her feet restlessly twitching.

Now her virginity was gone, pleasure manifested, a new gateway was opened. But Edmund would not take her without a commitment. It was unfair; the desire he exhibited and the way she seemed irresistible to him. His unconditional love for her. It seemed Edmund almost killed himself with restraint, and now she'd called off their engagement, there was nothing left to be chaste for.

Now Sage had a good impression of what it meant to couple. She wanted to experience the new thrill again, to share it with Edmund. But he would not take her.

With a scowl Sage sat up in bed, edged back to sit against the ornate headboard and rubbed her temples. Since her sharp parting words, Aleksis' presence was noticeably absent from her senses. Only without it could she realise the difference.

A loud knock on the door, and it opened an inch.

"Sage? May I enter?" Habern inquired.

Sage quickly closed her robe and stroked her hair down her chest. "Yes."

Habern stepped in, his austere countenance brightening considerably as he perceived Sage comfortable in bed, a pretty picture of youth. When he was done beaming at her, he sat on the bed's end. "Are you well rested?"

"Yes, thank you," Sage politely answered.

"I felt it best to tell you myself that I have spoken with Edmund, and he has departed," he informed her, pursing his lips when Sage's brow sharply contracted. "It's for the best, my dear."

"He might have bid me farewell," she said icily, disliking the sudden heartache pounding through her chest.

"Oh?" Habern said mildly. "Were you not the one to unceremoniously flee his company?"

Sage's tensed and her cheeks slowly turned red. "I was not myself."

"I see." Habern sighed. "I suppose it is too early to ask you about your upbringing?"

"I'm afraid I cannot...My memory-" Sage said slowly, watching Habern's jaw set. She nervously stared down at the blanket. "I am sorry I don't recall-"

Habern waved a hand to abruptly cut her off. "I may be a stranger to you, but I am not a fool. I also know you are intelligent, Sage. It often comes with the gifts of our unique heritage."

Startled, Sage quickly looked up from the bed.

"You are not alone, little witch," he smiled thinly. "And I am not your only living relative, though I am your closest relation."

Sage swallowed.

"The gifts come with some obligation," Habern continued, finally reaching the heart of the matter. "It is unusual these days, but very valuable for two parents to be of our blood. At the very least, the mother must carry the line, but all the better if-"

"Uncle, please," Sage pleaded, uncomfortably aware of the point Habern was getting to. "I am too tired to discuss this."

"I'm sorry, I get carried away," Habern apologised, noticing Sage's alarm. "I should have approached this matter with more delicacy. But I hope..." he paused thoughtfully. "Perhaps in a day or so, there are some young men I would like you to become acquainted with. See if you might take a shine to one."

"I have been under your roof less than a day, and you're discussing an arranged marriage?" Sage asked coldly, the prospect immensely angering.

It was enough that she had left Edmund, that she was estranged from Aleksis and had been despicably raped. Now she was expected to flirt with a pre-arranged group of witchbloods?

"If I were so desperate for a husband," she quietly snarled. "I might have entered an engagement with Nicholas Stiles."

"There is no need for distress." Habern smoothed a section of the blanket and stood. "I only ask you to consider meeting them, that is all."

"Very well. I will consider," Sage said unconvincingly.

Glancing back from the door, Habern noticed her expression. "You look so much like your mother," he smiled, and left her.

*****

"My Lord," Joel tentatively peered around the door of Edmund's study where he was examining a merchant list. "A member of the Guard is here to see you."

Edmund threw the scroll aside with disgust. "Oh, of all the-!"

"Not that one, my Lord," Joel clarified. "I have left him in the garden room. It...er..." he frowned. "The parlour did not agree with him."

Confused, Edmund smiled curiously. "Very well. His name?"

"Rowan," Joel slightly bowed, and closed the door.

Edmund paused on the threshold of the garden room, watching the Guard member sneeze violently into a handkerchief. Rowan had fading, thin black hair cropped by his ears, large brown eyes and a tendency to purse his lips. He was of average height, middle-aged and stockily built. Though he had physically softened with age, he looked to have maintained a decent amount of physical strength from a young age. This was common for members of the guard.

Eventually he noticed Edmund standing discreetly by the entrance.

"Thank you for seeing me, my Lord," Rowan began rather rapidly, his cheeks red with embarrassment and allergy. "I'm afraid the flowers in your parlour...Well, I did not come to discuss my condition, well-"

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Rowan," Edmund said cautiously. By mannerism alone he liked Rowan, but these days he was wary of any member of the Guard. "How may I be of service?"

"I...ahm..." Rowan stalled, appearing extremely nervous. "I should not be here."

"You have come to inform me that you should not be here?" Edmund reiterated with mild impatience.

Rowan shook his head. "Forgive me, I..."

Edmund kindly looked away as Rowan loudly sneezed again. "What do you wish to discuss, Rowan?"

The Guard member pulled himself together. "Your family, yours and Haberns. Bard and Habern; they're good names, my Lord. Good families."

"I thank you for the compliment," Edmund said dryly.

Rowan took a deep breath. "After the Stiles' deaths, Stephan has decided there is a new threat in our town. A witchcraft revival." He whispered the last words as though afraid to speak them aloud.

"Is that so?" Edmund smiled serenely, but his eyes glinted aggression. "And why would this concern myself or Habern?"

"I've seen the list," Rowan answered, now openly sweating. "Your fiancé, Lord Habern's niece, Sage, is to be detained and interrogated."

Edmund's face froze a moment, and when he spoke again, Rowan found himself edging toward the plants behind him. "On what basis might Stephan presume Sage would be worthy of this level of attention?"

Rowan shook his head. "None would question him, my Lord. I, myself, do not know. I have only come to warn you. I suggest that you-"

"Have you warned Habern? Sage is with him."

"No." Rowan was stunned. "Y-Your fiancé is not at this residence?"

Edmund shook his head. "Rowan, when will Stephan commence the arrests?"

"Once he finalises his list," Rowan replied hesitantly. "Sage is the only noble on the list, my Lord."

"Likely because she has not been present in this town long enough for it to form any attachment to her," Edmund bit out. "It will be frowned upon, but Sage is a stranger to our society. An easy scapegoat that will unsettle the nobles but cause no protest against whatever story he will contrive. Stephan must be very put out about the Stiles."

Rowan nibbled his lip. "I must go, my Lord." He bowed and hurried past Edmund to the door.

"Rowan."

The Guard member nervously turned.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Edmund said with sincerity. "I am in your debt. If you will accompany me to my office, I will-"

"None of that, my Lord. I do not seek to lighten your purse," Rowan spoke firmly for the first time. "Before my post at the Guard, I lived here."

Edmund was stunned to silence. Though significantly older, Rowan was not familiar in the slightest.

"When I was a lad, I was a sentry for your parents," Rowan hurriedly explained. "One night time ran away from me, and your father caught me in his library. I used to hide there to settle my allergies and taught myself to read."

When Edmund openly winced, Rowan smiled.

"Yes, he could have hanged me for it. But to the contrary, he didn't even beat me. He questioned my choices and..." Rowan waved his hand about to cut short what would have been a much longer tale. "He wrote a personal reference to the Guard and they accepted me into their offices."

"My father promoted you to the Guard?" Edmund said incredulously.

"It was a harder world, my Lord," Rowan replied, sadness in his voice. "My future was limited until your father intervened. I have always remembered your family with deep gratitude."

Rowan bowed and left. A moment later, Joel appeared at the doorway, looking immensely put out.

"My Lord, you have another visitor."

After dispatching an urgent note to the Habern estate, Edmund followed Joel to a quiet sitting room, and they paused just outside the door.

"Did she give any indication as to the purpose of her visit?"

Joel smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid Lady Amelie rarely displays her emotions, my Lord. If you fear for your life, I will be within calling distance."

"That knowledge gives me great comfort, Joel," Edmund said wryly, and made his entrance.

Lucille was gazing out the window when Edmund opened the door. To his relief she stood but did not rush to greet him, and seemed content to keep a distance entirely.

Edmund approached anyway, and kissed both her hands. "Are you well, Lucille?"

"Yes, thank you, Edmund," she politely replied, gently seating herself and arranging her skirt. "I have come to warn you to be wary of the Guard."

Edmund swallowed his feelings. "I received similar news today. What gave you cause to warn me?"

Lucille made a strange face, as though trying to understand her own words. "I was on a morning ride and a senior member of the Guard approached me on horseback. He rode alongside and he..." she paused; her cheeks slightly pink. "He spoke as though he knew me and I was so embarrassed not to recognise him. Ladies rarely have cause to speak with the Guard," she mused. "And when they do it is normally for an unpleasant matter-"

"His name was Rowan?" Edmund questioned, intently watching Lucille's face.

"I could not determine his name without feeling a fool," she admitted, her blush deepening. "But he seemed to know my plight and enjoy it. The news he imparted did not seem...well-intentioned." She shrugged. "As though he thought I would be happy to know you might soon be in peril."

Edmund's face darkened significantly. "I am not the one under threat. Can you describe him?" he asked sharply.

Lucille's pretty dark eyes flew to the ceiling to recount. "Unusually tall, even on horseback that much was evident. Young for the seniority of his uniform. Strong, though most active members of the guard are trained to be-"

"And his face? What colour were his eyes?"

Lucille shrugged. "He was pleasing enough, but I did not see his eyes. I avoided them. I was riding, you know," she added defensively. "And he was quite rudely staring at me and I could not recall his name! I was humiliated."

"By the Gods." Edmund's face went blank as his mind travelled back.

It took him a while to speak, struck by a memory from very long ago that he'd entirely forgotten.

"Our affair began not long since I'd returned from the war," he said slowly. "I doubt you would recall our first..."

"I indeed recall the head of your unsecured horse intruding through my carriage window to drool into my lap." Lucille arched an eyebrow.

"Well, yes, that," Edmund said grinned, the mirth quickly fading. "And then a member of the Guard-" he broke off, shaking his head. "Perhaps two stations below his current position. I remember the way he looked at you." Edmund looked down at his palms. "I might have found the moment more intriguing but I suppose I was also quite distracted at the time."

"That distraction was mutual." Lucille's throat tightened; her dark eyes sad. "Well, Edmund. I have relayed my concerns, and now I-"

"His name is Stephan," Edmund disclosed. "He received bribes from the Stiles', and though he cannot prove my involvement in their deaths, he is certain of it. The best way for him to gain power and revenge, is to arrest and interrogate Sage. And I suppose as my ex-mistress, he presumed you would enjoy the knowledge."

Lucille looked horrified. "Sage is going to be arrested? But she's a noble! And, Edmund, those arrested-!"

"Rarely survive it," he finished grimly. "I know the implications."

"And this Stephan person would...? I must go," Lucille said suddenly, the colour paling from her cheeks.

"I understand," Edmund pressed her hands earnestly. "Thank you for warning me, Lucille."

"I will always be a friend to you, my Lord," Lucille vaguely nodded and swiftly took her leave.

****

Stephan was standing with two of the Guard generals, silently observing a group of young recruits in training.

A porter hurried over to them and strained on his toes to murmur something over Stephan's shoulder. Stephan narrowed his eyes at the man's whispers.

"The name?" he demanded.

His sharp question drew the attention of the generals.

The porter swallowed nervously and made a familiar gesture reserved for matters of delicacy.

Stephan turned his head with mild curiosity. "Very well. Have them wait in my section."

Stephan lived in a grand house, like most wealthy folk, though nowhere as grand as a noble estate. But he also kept a small residence on site containing a large private office connecting to a personal chamber. The privilege came with his rank.

For another ten minutes Stephan watched and commented on the recruits, singling some out as more talented than the rest, identifying the ones requiring a firm hand. Then he bid his colleagues farewell and made his way through the open hallways, across the courtyard and into a large building divided into three sections.

There was a fine red carriage waiting outside, with black and gold wheels and an insignia that Stephan did not immediately recognise. When he did, he mounted the front steps three at a time, making his way in very swift strides to his office.

A maid was busily polishing his desk when Stephan boldly opened the door and his eyes fell on his guest.

"Out," he ordered the maid, his eyes still on the visitor seated opposite his chair. The servant scuttled past him and shut the door behind her.

Once the door closed, Stephan bowed deeply. "This is a delightful surprise, my Lady," he said with his usual aloofness.

When he did not sit, Lucille pouted, tolerating his silent scrutiny. She felt the heat of his glance up her body, across the blue and white ribboned dress exposing her delicate shoulders, her hair arranged prettily with fresh roses. But it was clearly her face that most drew his interest.

The striking green of Stephan's eyes was reduced by his dilating pupils. He took his time determining Lucille's mood and undertaking.

"Are you here to report a grievance?" he queried.

Lucille shook her head and looked meaningfully at the chair opposite. "The matter relates to...something else."

Stephan ignored her silent request and remained standing. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were keenly alert. Despite his stunned confusion, he was certainly not disappointed.

With increasing dread, Lucille calmly gestured the chair opposite. "Please be seated, Sir."

Stephan smiled at her discomfort; aware his height was intimidating her. Relenting, he lightly bowed and took the longer route around the back of Lucille's chair, feeling her tension before he eased into his seat.

"How might I serve you, my Lady?" he inquired, his tone suggestive but not unkind.

Lucille squared her shoulders, and Stephan's eyes went to the delicate skin, tightening within the borders of her lace dress. "When you ...What you told me..." she trailed off, irritably aware he was amused by her. "I've heard additional rumours which are greatly concerning-"

"You have nothing to fear from the Guard, my Lady," Stephan brusquely interrupted, his fingertips pressed into a gentle steeple, his green eyes staring over them. "We are not purging the nobility. Even so, your good name would not make the list."

"Then Lord Bard's fiancé is not under threat?"

Stephan's eyebrows raised. "Why would you think Sage is listed?"

"I...a rumour," Lucille quickly answered. "I cannot recall the source."

"Town gossip is oft difficult to trace," Stephan nodded understandingly, his eyes intense on her face.

"So, Sage is not under threat of arrest?" Lucille persisted, irritated that she was beginning to perspire. Riding alongside Stephan was unsettling, but being alone in a room with him was a different matter, especially the way he stared at her.

Stephan's lips parted with interest, but instead of speaking, he opened a side drawer and withdrew a scroll. "I won't lie. You are fascinating me, Lady Amelie," he murmured, spreading the paper and dragging his finger down the top to rest on Sage's name.

"How so?" she demanded; her eyes dark with anger as she saw the extent of the list.

Though Stephan appeared unaffected, he was very aroused by the fire of Lucille's building temper, her prettiness animated. He released the paper, allowing it to curl up so the list was obscured. "I may not be of your society, but I know the rumours and can guess why you are here. Do you come for Edmund's sake, so he might marry you?"

"You do not know the rumours in depth, it seems," Lucille retorted, very offended. "Bard and I remain friends, no more."

"Perhaps, but you have affection for him," Stephan astutely countered, rising from his chair and watching Lucille stiffen, her eyes almost unwillingly drawn to the front of his pants where his excitement was startlingly evident.

Stephan placed both palms on the desk between them, smiling thinly when Lucille resisted the urge to lean back. "Your feelings must run strong to come to me on his behalf, to defend your rival. A girl you hardly know." He paused, impressed by Lucille's brave display of nonchalance. If her hands were not so tightly clasped, he might have been fooled. "In the position you find yourself, I find it incomprehensible that there are no tears. You are not a soft woman."

"Mock me, if it pleases you," Lucille sharply replied, burying the cutting memory of Edmund's words uttered during a past tryst. "I have come to request your aid, and if you do not have the decency to reject my request with proper courtesy..." she bit her lip when Stephan rounded the desk and sat beside her.