Chained, page 3
Through gritted teeth, he spat, “Did no one ever call you by a name?”
Releasing a shuddering breath, I explained, “No. When I was very young I asked about my real name but they beat me in response, so I never asked again.”
His face softened at my words, and he gripped me against his body as if I were a precious gem he did not want to crush. “Your name is Izidora.”
“Izidora,” I rolled the name over my tongue; it was pretty to me.
“I know this is a lot to process but there will be plenty of time ahead to discuss everything that’s happened. Try to rest as much as you can while we fly,” Kazimir encouraged.
My shoulders dropped as the mood between us changed. I may have been out of the cave, but whether I was permanently out of chains was yet to be seen. I nodded and flattened my head against his chest so I could comfortably hang on while we flew under the guidance of the stars above, toward a home I never knew existed.
***
The small child looked up at her caretaker with wide eyes as she was led by the hand away from the darkness of her cave. “Where are we going?” the child asked.
The female leading her thought back to her instructions, given so clearly by the king. The princess needed to be functional, yet moldable by the time she came of age. “We’re going to play in the sun.”
A smile as wide as the mouth of the cave they walked toward blossomed on her face, blue eyes sparkling as they adjusted to the dim light of the halls. The sound of metal tinkling against metal echoed around the space, the iron bangles around the child’s wrists and ankles a permanent fixture.
The old female’s weary heart twinged with sadness. The tiny princess did not deserve what was happening to her, yet there was nothing she could do to stop it. Better to be there to help her than to leave her at the mercy of males, the caretaker thought.
“Stay close to me, and do not go to the edge,” she warned.
The princess obeyed her without question, staying far away from the mouth of the cave, but still within the beam of light that filtered through the opening. The female was not allowed to teach the child to read, yet she tried her best to engage the princess in conversation, telling her stories that pushed the limits of her remit. She hoped the guards were not listening, for the king was cruel, and she risked her own life by speaking stories of the world beyond.
The princess held a spark of something inside her, a spark of something that the caretaker knew would never be snuffed out. It reminded her of her own daughter, taken from this world at far too young of an age. It was for that reason she’d been chosen as the princess’s caretaker. Living in this cave, far away from her realm, there were no memories to haunt her.
“Sweetie,” she called to the little one, “would you like to hear a story about the dragon who blew apart the houses of the three little centaurs?” Another thing she was not allowed to say was the princess’s name.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, turning her focus away from a pile of weathered wooden toys.
The caretaker started on her tale. “Once upon a time, a dragon flew over a forest in search of a snack…”
“What’s a forest?” The little one always had so many questions.
The caretaker described a forest to her, since there were none visible from their high peak, and continued the story. The princess listened with rapt attention, crawling closer and closer until she perched in her caretaker’s lap by the time the story concluded. The caretaker stroked the tiny child’s long hair, holding her until she fell asleep. As the sky darkened and the sun slipped from the cave, she carried her small body back to the corner of the cave where she was bathed in complete darkness, tucking her into a small mattress braced against a rough stone wall and relatching her chains to the bangles.
No, the princess did not deserve this life, and the female vowed to help her survive in any way she could.
II
4
“She didn’t know her fucking name!” I roared, smashing my fist into the worn wood desk in my room at the tavern, causing it to collapse under the force. I flung one of its legs against the wall and it shattered with a satisfying snap. Grabbing another, I broke it across my knee. Splinters were everywhere, lining the floor, digging into my skin, but the piercing pain still had yet to take the edge off the anger twisting like a hot knife in my chest.
My father watched me rage, concern etching deeper lines between his already furrowed brows. Once I was thoroughly exhausted from smashing pieces of the dark wooden furniture in my room, I heaved out a long breath. Then another. On my fifth one, my father spoke.
“She is going to have a long road ahead of her. Clearly whoever took her wanted to exercise ultimate control over her. They wanted her completely in the dark about the outside world, about who she is, and about what she is capable of. Going to Este Castle now and facing the nobles who circle like vultures is going to overwhelm her.”
I sighed, running a hand over my face. “What do you propose we do?”
“Delay our return as long as possible so she can acclimate to her new world,” my father said.
Este Castle was a steady month-long ride from the Agrenak Mountains, and I was certain Izidora had never ridden a horse before. Since most Fae thought she was dead, traveling slowly and stopping in cities along the way wouldn’t be terribly dangerous. I nodded my head, analyzing all the possibilities. “People know that we’ve been searching for her all these years. I don’t want to rouse suspicion when we make stops.”
“Hmm,” my father thought for a moment before responding. “We should give her some male clothes and a hat to hide her long hair. We can make up a reason for having a young male with us, if anyone asks.”
“First thing tomorrow, I will go find some clothes for her at the market,” I promised. Children’s clothes would be more fitting with her small, slight frame. I reclined on the bed, exhausted from the night’s events. My father stood from the one chair I hadn’t destroyed and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder in reassurance.
“Kazimir,” he said gently, “You are always so calm and collected, I have never seen so much rage and passion in you before. What is going on tonight?”
He was right. What had gotten into me? “Seeing Izidora chained in the dark like that… I don’t know what came over me. And then the bruises on her arms…”
My father sat beside me on the bed. “You are an honorable male, Kazimir. You would never want to cause a female harm in that way. She has suffered greatly, and we have searched for her for a long time. If we had found her sooner… well, I wouldn’t have this pit of grief and guilt in my stomach.”
He stood, intending to leave me to sleep as he walked to the door. With it half open, he turned toward me once more. “Izidora doesn’t know what it is like to be cared for. Perhaps you can be the one to show her that kindness.”
And then the door clicked softly as it shut.
I kicked off my sturdy leather boots before flopping back onto the bed, staring at the thick wooden beams crossing the ceiling. My father was right. Izidora could use all the help she could get in the coming weeks, and I would ensure the snakes of the Night Realm didn’t eat her alive.
Morning came far too soon, sunlight spilling into my eyes and forcing me awake. A twinge in my back and shoulders reminded me of our long flight last night, so I stretched languidly as I rose from the firm mattress. Groaning internally, I surveyed the damage I had wreaked to the room in my fit of rage. A large tip would be necessary on top of repayment for the damages.
I dressed quickly, splashing cold water on my face from the basin – somehow still intact – and walked into the hall. I paused briefly outside Izidora’s room, wanting to enter and behold the female for whom I’d spent more than half my life scouring the continent. From what I had seen the previous night, she was more beautiful than I had ever imagined. And I had imagined; for the years spent searching across the four realms, my daydreams of Izidora had kept me company. Soft breathing indicated she still slept, so I crept the rest of the way down the hall to the stairs, avoiding the floorboards that creaked.
Outside, the morning air was crisp and inviting. Autumn was truly upon the Night Realm. I strolled toward the town square where the sounds of haggling and the aroma of freshly baked bread spilled down each street and alley, beckoning the inhabitants to gather. I perused the food stalls, stopping to buy a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese before continuing toward the clothing. Chewing on the loaf, I searched for simple pants, tunics, leather boots, and a hat that looked small enough to fit Izidora. Once I was satisfied with my haul, I strolled around Zanin.
The town’s charm grew on me with each subsequent visit. The small wooden chalets that lined the roads were cozy and inviting. Every spot in town had a breathtaking view of the serrated, snow-capped mountains in the distance. I could see myself settling down here if I had a different life. But I was the future Head of House Vaszoly who served the whims of his king; my place was in Vaenor.
I found myself back at the tavern just as my father was leaving. “I am going to check on our horses and ask the stablehands to saddle them in about an hour. We should get going,” he announced.
“I’ll alert the Nighthounds and wake Izidora. Do we have enough supplies to last until the next town?” I asked.
“I will ask them to replenish our saddlebags as well,” he confirmed, and then he strode toward the stables around the back of the building.
The Nighthounds gathered around a small corner table shoveling steaming porridge into their mouths.
“Want a bowl, Kazimir?” Endre inquired, his black hair even more mussed than usual, as if he had rolled off his mattress and walked downstairs without looking in a mirror.
“I ate in the town already. We’re heading out in an hour, so pack up when you’re finished eating, and I’ll meet you outside.”
With shaking hands and my goods tucked under my arm, I continued up the stairs to Izidora’s room. A wave of uncertainty joined my nerves as I stood outside her door. I didn’t want to startle her by knocking too loudly. I didn’t want her to fear me. Sighing, I rapped softly on the door with my knuckles. “Izidora, are you awake?”
A light shuffle, and then the door opened slightly, Izidora peeking out with one bright blue eye. When she saw it was me, she opened the door slightly wider, but not enough to leave herself vulnerable. I asked, “Can I come in for a moment?”
She considered, wariness clouding her eyes as her expression remained neutral. Finally, she nodded and then opened the door, backing away toward the bed. I shut the door gently behind me and walked to the opposite side of the room so she didn’t feel like I was boxing her in. Plopping my sack on the table, I flipped it open and rummaged through until I found the clothes I had purchased for her.
“We are going to extend our journey back to Este Castle. My father and I thought it best if no one knew we found you yet, so I bought these for you to wear and a hat to hide your hair,” I explained.
She eased toward me, accepting the clothes from my outstretched hand, then backed away a few paces. “Will we fly to the castle?”
“No, we are riding horses. The journey should take about seven weeks. We will go slowly to give you time to adjust.” A tightness fell away from her face, betraying her relief. I couldn’t blame her, the previous night’s flight had been intense even for experienced fliers.
“We are leaving in an hour. Are you hungry? I can bring you something to eat,” I offered.
She studied me a moment before conceding. “Yes, I am actually starving.”
A small grin spread across my face in response, trying to show her that I meant no harm. “Good, I will fetch some food while you change.”
I gave her a wide berth as I strode for the door, aiming for the kitchens downstairs where I could order some food. As I reached for the handle, she asked timidly, “Why are you being so kind? What do you want?”
Her question hit like a stone settling in my stomach. “Everyone deserves kindness,” I responded, head barely turned toward her over my shoulder. She did not need to see the pity in my eyes as I was reminded of how awful her life must have been, and how I had failed to save her for nearly twenty-one years.
Her question haunted me the entire time I waited for her food.
Ten minutes later, I knocked, a tray in hand piled with one of everything on the tavern’s menu. She opened the door with caution, but her eyes grew larger than melons when she saw the banquet I carried. The door swung wide, and I entered, placing the tray on a small table in the room. “Dig in. I’ll keep you company while you eat.”
She perched on the edge of the seat across from me, shot me a cautious look, and meekly reached for a thick slice of vanilla cake. It received a thorough examination before she took an enormous bite. She groaned, words slipping unbidden, along with a few crumbs from her full mouth. “This is the best cake I have ever eaten.”
I laughed, “Wait until you see the cakes at Este Castle. You might actually put on some weight once you start stuffing yourself with the cook’s pastries.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at her too-thin body. She kept her head low as she finished the slice and I internally chastised myself for my careless words. She reached for a piece of bacon, chewing on it thoughtfully. “Tell me about the castle,” she requested, still not looking up from her food.
“Well, Vaenor is the seat of the Night Realm and Este Castle is where the king, your father, resides. The city is beautiful at night. When you’re flying above it, it’s almost like you are flying between the stars. Now that I think about it, you’re really flying in a star sandwich.”
She snorted at my terrible attempt at a joke, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine. I shot her a lopsided grin aimed at disarming her. “Este Castle sits high on the cliffs at the city's edge. There are multiple towers at varying heights spilling over the edge of the cliff, all leading toward an epic point in the center. It almost looks like the mast of a ship, about to set sail across the raging ocean crashing against the rocky cliffs below. The air is fresh and briny, though the wind can be brutal in the winter. Vaenor is the biggest city in the Night Realm, always bustling with the activity of Fae coming and going. The port brings trading ships from other realms filled with fine wines, fresh fruits, and colorful crafts.”
“Do you think I will like it there?” Her eyes bounced between mine, searching for any hints of deception.
I thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. It will be very different from what you are used to.” I paused. “What did you do while you were…” I wasn’t sure what the right words were “... in the cave?”
The haunted look in her eyes made me wish I hadn't asked, but she finished chewing and answered me. “I listened. The guards talked constantly, and everything I know about the world, I learned from their conversations. They spoke of their families and the weather near their homes, argued over who was cheating at cards, and how they couldn’t wait until the females would come again so they would have some company to warm their beds.” Some of her wariness slipped away as I engaged her in conversation. “The females who came to take care of me taught me a few other things, though they were strict and ruthless with their punishments when I messed up in any way. I have a vague memory of someone else when I was younger, but most of my life is a dark blur."
A surge like an angry sea rose from my gut at her confession. I quickly looked away and took a deep breath to regain control of my emotions. When I looked back, the hypervigilance had returned and her expression was hard. She sat tense to the point of stillness, as if she were a deer who had caught sight of a mountain lion.
Guilt slammed into my gut and I sighed deeply, trying to smooth over my reaction. “I’m sorry, you’ve done nothing wrong by sharing that. I am simply mad at myself for not finding you sooner, for not keeping you safe.”
She raised a brow, still studying my face, then let go of the breath she had been holding onto when she decided that I spoke true. “Will you keep me safe now?” she tested.
“Always,” I solemnly promised. Her assessing eyes showed that she didn’t quite believe my statement, but she nodded anyway.
There was a knock on the door. “Time to go,” my father called out.
I held out my hand to Izidora to help her rise. She eyed it like it was a snake coiled to strike, then stood without taking it.
Guess she was not ready for that yet.
I led us from the room, down the stairs, and out into the sunshine. The harsh sunlight caused her to squint and blink rapidly. With slow, visible hands, I adjusted her hat so it sat lower over her eyes. She stiffened as I touched her, not breathing until I stepped back once more.
“Thanks,” she muttered, her eyes shaded from the bright morning sun.
“You can ride with me until you feel comfortable on a horse,” I offered as we rounded the building in the direction of the stables.
She walked silently beside me until she hesitantly nodded her approval. The smell of sweet hay and sour manure grew stronger until we arrived at the stables, where our horses were saddled and waiting, along with the rest of the Nighthounds.
I guided her to my horse, who stood at the end of the line awaiting our arrival. Fek was a massive black beast who dwarfed Izidora’s frame. His inky mane hung low over his eyes, and his muscular frame showed every bit of his Warstrider breeding. Izidora stopped short, her gem-like eyes widening as she beheld my mount. Tentatively, she reached out her hand, first touching his silky forelock, then rubbing his velvety nose, and he gently nuzzled her hand, looking for sugar. She hummed low as his whiskers tickled her hand. Fishing in my pockets, I found a few cubes and handed her one.
“Place the cube on your palm and then flatten your hand like this,” I demonstrated. “He loves sugar, just like you. I think you will get along just fine.”
Fek greedily snatched the lump of sugar and in two munches it was gone. Izidora stepped to his heavy shoulder, rubbing her hand over his dark hide. “He is so soft!” she exclaimed. Fek snorted his disapproval.
