Glass Slippers, page 16
Lucifero shifted. “I have other obligations, but perhaps I will see to it for myself that you encounter no more threats… at least none from my kind.”
While he could set wards to communicate that the area was under his protection, there was little he could do about the wild animals. Still, if that meant that he did not have to worry about a troll discovering this female, he would be satisfied with that.
Ella’s eyebrows rose, and she regarded him curiously. “An obligation?”
Her lips quirked at how deftly she evaded responding to his near declaration of promise. Either she hoped that he was being disingenuous, or she did not believe him capable. Little did she realize that he was neither of those things. That he felt protective over the human was only mildly surprising now that he had accustomed himself to it.
He leaned back, resting against the high back of the bench they had discovered in a little alcove in one of their recent strolls around the gardens. Though they had spoken of many things casually in passing, he had been careful not to share too much of his identity, not even so much as his reason for ceaselessly traveling within the human world.
“I am searching for my bride,” he confided at last. “She has been missing for a great many years, but I wish to find her.” His gaze caught on a single dewy bud near his face. He studied it as he momentarily fell silent.
As the years had continued to stretch with no sign of her, it had given him time to wonder what exactly had gone wrong. Yes, she had helped the humans escape, no doubt earning the ire of his entire court, but whether this was a game of his sister or not, he had begun to wonder exactly what kept her hiding from him. Was he truly that big of a monster that she still refused to show herself to him, even after all this time? Why had she even sought to leave with the humans when she should have known that he would not have allowed any to harm his bride? Answers were needed, but even more he had felt a growing sense of loss and regret that she had not chosen to speak to him of these things even if orchestrated through messages.
With the passage of time, her silence had gradually worked its way in, cutting deep into him. He was likely exhibiting that crippling emotion quite strongly if he was to judge by the concerned look Ella was giving him.
“What happened to her?” she whispered.
He gave her a stiff smile in attempt to reassure her. “Nothing happened… or at least not to my knowledge. She left me. I was angry and confused for a long time, but now,” he sighed, “I wish just to know why. I need to know why she left and continues to hide.”
“Oh.” Ella’s teeth sank into the cushion of her bottom lip, worrying the delicate flesh. “Maybe… maybe you should move on then. If she doesn’t want to be found, perhaps you should find someone else.”
He shook his head, wishing more than anything that it were possible. He would have returned home long ago or could have been entertaining ideas of taking this human as his bride.
“I am afraid it doesn’t work that way. I am bound by my oath to find her and by the magic that has bonded us together. I cannot cease my hunt for her, nor take another.” He drew in a deep breath, tasting her sweetness. “Not even for one such as you, my friend.”
The words tasted bitter falling from his lips, and the look of embarrassment and sorrow descending over her features was a knife to his gut.
“Oh, I see. Of course you could not.” She glanced away, a dull flush staining her cheeks.
He tentatively touched her hand, violating his first rule in that moment. He should not have engaged physical contact—he knew that the moment their skin made contact and he felt the swift coil of heat ignite deep within him—but he did not regret it.
“This does not reflect poorly on you. I believe that if I had the option that you would have been the first that I considered. I can think of no other that I would wish to return with to my court than a female that I consider a friend as well as beautiful, someone I would trust at my side. But that is not to be.” His hand dropped away, and he let out a regretful sigh. “Instead, I am trapped in this miserable existence where I have the comfort of neither my bride nor my home, and I must trust that my aides are overseeing matters in my absence.”
“I do hope that you find her,” Ella murmured softly.
His lips twisted into a smile at the sentiment, but it was not one that went any deeper than the surface. Beneath it, he felt even more sorrow as he began to wonder at what could have been if he had waited for her. The draw was no less than it had been for his bride, but it was flavored with a sweetness and warmth that was imbued within humanity. The very thing he had always known that he needed but had ignored that night.
Sitting beside her with her warmth pressed close and the flowers abloom around them, he began to wonder if he had wasted his opportunity for the match he had truly needed. Regret was a bitter tonic, but it was one that he had little choice but to swallow.
CHAPTER 24
He is married.
Those words, and his careful, though kind, rejection, tormented Eleanor. It preyed on her mind every time they were together, driving a wedge in their friendship. She hadn’t meant for it to. Lucus was reserved even on the best of occasions, but the odder and more out-of-character she behaved around him, the more he withdrew into a confused silence that pained her.
It shouldn’t have concerned her. In truth, she didn’t even know where that question came from. She hadn’t imagined herself wanting to marry anyone since she was a young girl, when she was still ignorant of how society worked. And yet the question had popped into her mind and was on her lips before she even had an opportunity to censor it.
Had she been fantasizing about being his? She hadn’t thought so. True, she had become comfortable around him and had looked forward to their nightly visits. When she had nothing to look forward to at night but a cold bed in the chilly autumn, she still had him. She hadn’t even conceived of the fact that there might be a time when it would all come to an end, and, if she were honest with herself, she had felt proprietorial when it came to their friendship. For that short time at night, he was hers… and now he wasn’t. He had never been hers and belonged to another woman.
And it hurt. It hurt in a way that brought clarity to the fact that she hadn’t felt this drawn to another except once. And that previous experience could not be trusted because the male had been so glamoured that there was no way for her to gauge how much of that was fantasy and how much was reality.
Blinking back tears of frustration, she gasped and pitched forward as something solid collided with the back of her shoulder, knocking her forward. Forced to stumble to catch her balance, Eleanor bit out a low curse, her gaze snapping to the offender. A mousy brown ponytail bobbed as the woman kept walking, a basket balanced on her hip and utterly unconcerned about the fact that she had come close to knocking Eleanor off her feet. Even from behind, she could immediately identify the woman. Bridget was one of a handful of young women in the compound who endeavored to make her life miserable. For every woman who was kind to her, Bridget and her ilk were a thorn in Eleanor’s side.
“I beg your pardon,” she shouted at the retreating woman’s back. “You could at least apologize, Bridget.”
The other woman stiffened at her name, just as Eleanor had hoped, and spun around, leaning the basket against her hip as she regarded her impatiently. “Oh, hello, Ella. I didn’t see you there.” What lies! “I don’t see why you’re so angry. You were the one who was in the way. Don’t want to get knocked aside? Well, don’t be taking up space on the path. Some of us have things to do around here—food to cook, babies to tend and hemming and washing to be done—while your likes play out there in the city.”
Eleanor gaped at her. It was true that the women in the compound were burdened with the more thankless tasks, but to assume that her entire day was summed up as play was beyond insulting. “My kind… play? What in heavens are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Women like you who think you’re too good to be in here with the rest of us, not taking your share of the chores just so you can run around the city. You are no better than Casey, off having her adventures while the rest of us are left to toil in the compound.”
Eleanor brushed down the edge of her belted tunic shirt and strode forward. “I’ll have you know that I do work, not only out there in the city but the moment I return here. I have no doubt that you work hard, but all I do is work,” she hissed, “and I’m sick to death of it. I’m working long after the rest of the compound is sleeping, cleaning out the day’s ashes, sweeping and buffing away the grime. I’m exhausted, and still I work!” She rounded on the younger woman, thrusting her finger up to point at the smudged tip of the female’s nose. “If that is not good enough for you, and you think that my life is so easy, then you are welcome to accompany me tomorrow so you can get a taste of exactly what you are missing.”
The other woman shifted her weight. “Maybe I will,” she muttered. She grimaced as a name was shouted out across the compound and hugged her basket closer to her chest. “Another time, though. Mom needs me, and I have this washing to do.”
“Of course,” Eleanor agreed in a flat voice.
She held back a resigned sigh as her gaze followed the woman hurrying off. A short distance away, a young blond woman rushed to her side, casting a sharp look Eleanor’s way before bending her head to whisper as the two of them disappeared into a building, a third following belatedly behind them.
Eleanor sighed. Bridget had been a bother ever since she began scavenging. She and her friends, Alice and Fran, made Eleanor’s life miserable at every opportunity, and it had become worse since Eleanor’s confrontation with Jack, Bridget’s brother. Who knew what that horrible man told Bridget to breed even greater hostility? Whatever it was, it didn’t do Eleanor any favors when it came to the torments that they devised for her whenever she was stuck within the confines of the compound with them.
While Fran wasn’t too bad if caught on her own, Bridget and Alice were never far from each other and endeavored to be as unpleasant as possible. They were the first to push chores on her the moment she returned, no matter how tired she was, and when assigned to kitchen duties in the late morning, they made certain to give her the smallest portions of food available. No doubt they were currently trying to think up a new torment now.
That was why she tried to leave before everyone was out and about in the compound. Unfortunately, she had overslept that morning and now had to make her way through the crowded compound amid an audience. Shouldering the empty sack that had slipped down her arm, Eleanor could feel eyes on her as she resumed walking toward the entrance. Clandestine glances confirmed several of the women watching her, some more covertly than others, as they bent to their tasks.
Although a few greeted her, she knew that many resented any woman who elected to spend her days outside of the compound—and for good reason. There were more men than women, and yet the majority of the day-to-day workload fell on the latter. Though there were very few men who did not scavenge outside of the compound for whatever reason, they busied themselves with what they considered the compound’s “business” side when it came to making arrangements for trading parties and distributing goods. They followed Garret, the compound head, around like little puppies, eager to show that they were doing something useful.
Garret wasn’t too bad. He was fair enough and clearly cared about the success of the compound. He seemed to be continuously seeing to one matter or another, his silver-threaded hair in a constantly mussed state from his hands running through it. At least he made sure that the men flocking around him did the heavy lifting and major repairs. Unfortunately, he seemed to ignore just about everything else, from the gardening to the cooking, cleaning, sewing, child minding, and general care of the people within the compound. That fell on the shoulders of the women there without any sort of fair recompense.
At least that much was familiar to Eleanor, despite the world otherwise being so strange to her. Like in her time, women had no power and were dependent on the trade goods that the men scavenged. The difference was that there were no social restrictions keeping women locked within the compound. Anyone could scavenge, and they would be welcomed as long as territorial lines were observed to earn greater trade opportunities for the compound. Nothing technically forced anyone to stay within the compound and work—except the dangers lurking outside of the safety of the walls and the fact that someone needed to do the work.
Eleanor had never considered herself a Blue Stocking suffragette in her own time, but she couldn’t ignore that the system here was grossly unfair, more so than it had ever seemed before. In her time, the weight of society was carried and long-engineered by men; it had seemed almost impossible to challenge, whereas that wasn’t the case now. In this time, all vestiges of society had been destroyed, and with it the foundations of men’s social authority. That much was as clear to her as the nose on her face.
Here, everything was a matter of survival, and yet, despite doing the lion’s share of the work, those who did “women’s work” had little to no power within the compound. The men depended on it, and yet the women received nothing in exchange for it and were forced to depend on the scavengers for everything they needed. Even in her day, a working woman received coin. Here there was no social reward or exchange, just an exploitation that she refused to participate in, something many of the other women resented. Unfortunately, that earned her few friends among women who had initially greeted her arrival with relief. Whereas there were some who were still friendly on the occasion their paths crossed, even more treated her and Martha with the same scorn they showed to the very few other women who scavenged.
Returning the few smiles that greeted her, Eleanor ducked her head and hurried forward, eager to be on her way, trying to ignore the harrumphs and whispers exchanged as she passed. Several women tittered at her unkempt state, making her blush furiously. Scavenging was less than sanitary, and the chores laden on her when she returned to the compound by her host stained her clothing beyond repair. Although no one was as clean as they should be, there was still a marked difference between herself and the state of the other women in the compound that embarrassed her, a weakness that they were quick to prick.
The clunk of the perimeter gate closing and locking behind her made her skin prickle as usual, but she relaxed as her eyes fell on Martha waiting anxiously just outside. Martha waited patiently for Eleanor to join her before handing over the small bundle she held in her other hand. The fragrance of cold meat and bread wafted up from it. Martha had clearly been holding onto it for a while. Immense gratitude filled Eleanor as she unwrapped the bundle, shoving a bit of meat into her mouth.
“Bless you, Martha,” she murmured around her mouthful of food as they started walking away from the compound.
Her friend smiled, easily setting the pace of their usual morning routine as Eleanor ate. “I didn’t see you at breakfast, and I was worried that you might not eat. It seems that I anticipated correctly.”
Eleanor snorted, not missing the censure in the other woman’s voice. “I haven’t been sleeping well and I overslept this morning, which unfortunately set me right on time to witness a few of the men going at each other like wild animals.”
“It seems that, while some things do not change, circumstances can certainly bring out the worst of it,” Martha observed dryly.
Nodding her agreement, Eleanor took another bite of food and clutched her thin coat tightly around her body against the cold.
“And all this with winter coming soon. Can you imagine being forced to spend more hours shut in there with everyone? There is talk of closing up the compound for the winter. With the hard frosts we’ve been having and the dusting of snow we got yesterday, they are speaking seriously of it. Especially since the sightings of predators have increased.”
Eleanor grimaced. She was not anticipating the closure of the compound any more than her friend was. She had not realized, however, that plans were already being made. She had hoped for a few more weeks of freedom.
Martha sighed. “I keep hoping that I will find Drezden before winter settles in.”
“And then what?” Eleanor asked softly, slanting a questioning look at her friend. It wasn’t the first time she asked Martha this, but before had never pushed for an answer. “You should know by now that no one in the compound will welcome him. Anyone non-human who comes anywhere near the compound is fired at with their fancy muskets. Think of how they would react if you tried to bring an ogre in among them.”
Martha frowned. “Then we will live in one of the houses in the city, far away from the compound. They can’t stop us from claiming a home of our own as long as we leave them alone. Or maybe we will go somewhere else and find a nice quiet place. Drezden told me that ogres are fond of caring for land and are also skilled at building storerooms and tending animals. Many are farmers, his family included. We will be fine anywhere we go. But it would be better if it were before winter. I am not sure how much I will be able to keep watch for him once the snow begins to fall. He is coming soon—I can feel it. I dreamed that he was coming with the snow.”
Eleanor nodded, unable to find an appropriate response to Martha’s imaginings. But then who was she to say what was merely fantasy? Her thoughts turned to Lucus and their nightly meetings at the fountain.
Aware of her friend’s expectant gaze upon her, she cleared her throat and offered a supportive smile. “Who knows how this magic and the will of the gods shall work? I’m sure it shall happen just as you say.”
A delighted smile flashed on her friend’s face before fading to a pensive expression.
“What of you? This can’t be all that you are looking for from life.”
Eleanor gave her friend a weak smile. “I don’t particularly have anything to aspire to in this world. Opening up shop as a seamstress in this city would be rather pointless when sewing is considered part of the responsibilities of those living within the compound. It’s unlikely that anyone would pay me in goods for my handiwork. Even trying to do so in the outer towns they trade to would be nigh impossible with the way everyone speaks of how they treat outsiders. For now, there is little else I can aspire to than this.”
