The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(9)
She tried the second drawer, the third, fourth, fifth. Nothing. Empty. Ellie walked the rest of the bedchamber. There was nothing of value left to pawn to shorten her time as the Burbes’ servant. Nine more months of this hell before she saved enough.
“What’s the matter, Ellie?” Violet wondered from the hall.
Ellie swallowed past the thickness in her throat. “Thought I saw the mouse again.”
“Oh,” Violet whispered. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
“For what?” She wiped her tears on her dirty sleeve then set the candle on the vanity.
“For everything we’ve done to you,” Violet finished. Her brown curls shimmered in the soft candlelight as she shook her head. “I’m going to bed.” She pushed away from the door and disappeared down the hall.
A twinkle caught Ellie’s eye. Her abdomen clenched and a sense of foreboding filled her. She eyed the sparkle coming from deep in the drawer.
Ellie sat on the floor. The wood was decorated with decades of mouse droppings, bug carcasses, and dust but she didn’t care. The winking light in the drawer grew more insistent. She fished her hand into the shadowed gap.
Her fingers met the cool hardness of metal.
She drew out the tangled chain. The soft glow from the candle glinted off a small pewter circle that dangled from the thin matching strand; at its core, a half-moon opalescent jewel shimmered. Ellie let the circle—no bigger than a wedding band—drop. It spiraled in slow motion.
A board creaked in the hall.
Ellie hung the simple piece of jewelry around her neck and stood. The ring fell past the crest of her bodice to rest between her breasts.
The cool metal warmed instantly and sent a gentle hum of relaxation through her body. Ellie picked up the candle from the vanity and strode from her mother’s room, careful to shut the door behind her.
Lady Irene stood in the hallway.
Unease flittered in Ellie’s gut. “Can I help you?”
“You can tell me what you were doing in your mother’s room.” Lady Irene shoved a hand to her hip, crinkling the embroidered silk of her teal gown.
“I couldn’t find anything of value.” Ellie passed the candle between her hands. Lady Irene carried no torch.
“I meant for one of my daughters to do that!” the lady snapped, eyes like angry green daggers. “You have no business up here. Your place is in the kitchen. Be gone.”
Hurt bubbled like a brewing poison in her veins. Ellie felt Lady Irene’s gaze on her until she moved back along the deserted hall and down the unused staircase. It wasn’t until she locked herself in her tiny bedroom that she pulled the necklace she’d found out from underneath her bodice.
Her fingers toyed with the pewter ring. The warm metal comforted her. She blew out the candle, double-checked the lock on her door, stripped off her worn gray dress, and slipped into bed. The necklace buzzed against her skin as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Three
Ca-caw! Ca-caw!
Ellie opened blurry eyes and glared at the crow perched upon her windowsill. She rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. The crow cawed again. Ellie threw her pillow at the glass window.
The bird squawked and flew away.
Disheartened at the low position of the sun—signaling early morning had arrived—she stretched and struggled from bed. Dawn waved hello on rosy fingers as she yanked on her black serving gown and plain cream apron. She tiptoed to the kitchens and draped her gray cloak around her shoulders as she pushed open the door.
The morning dew rose in steamy waves. Ellie could make out the shape of her breath in the chill fall air. She trudged through the abandoned field, pausing at the lip of the forest to pluck free a few apples, and marched on heavy feet through the forest.
The white stone gate rose before her like a gleaming beacon.
Fatigue still weighed her mind, as she passed Rufus an apple.
“Thanks for paying the toll.”
She nodded. She ought to tell Rufus that the leading lady of MAM would be staying in her home in a few days’ time. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words. If Dame Lange was staying in the house she slept in…
She’ll want me banished from my own family.
She waved goodbye to Rufus and strode through the quiet Citadel streets. The great height of the castle loomed in the distance. She clattered over cobblestone to the back entrance.
Ellie could work no magic. It didn’t mean she couldn’t function. Magic in this kingdom was called the golden arts for a reason: magic was gold, gold was magic.
Magic was valued by the wealthier families because of the aesthetic value. Those who used magic, and who used it well, could decorate for parties and entertain crowds, but it had no practical or helpful use. Sure, Rufus could banish stains from his livery and Meera could enchant the water in her kitchen to wash the Tea Emporium’s many cups, but you couldn’t heal people anymore, couldn’t conjure the rain or help the crops.
Ellie bounded up the castle steps and burst into the maids’ sitting parlor. She was in a foul mood today and was thankful no one was near. Every morning for years, she had come to the Citadel to light fires in the many bedchambers within the castle. It was a simple job—no magic required. The extra coin squirreled away for later, for the estate.
Groggy and late today, she didn’t bother taking off her cloak. After shouldering open the door to the servants’ staircase, she jogged up the steps. Five flights later, Ellie reached the top.