The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(37)
“Where would I go if I did?” Zoelyn asked softly, though even as she said the words her eyes were traveling to the southeast. Her home with Dominic was in that direction in a small village filled with people that despised her. A rueful smile crossed her lips and she returned her attention to the night sky. The stars were bright tonight and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was the perfect night for a walk, only she wasn’t allowed to take walks anymore.
“Away from their walls,” the voice suggested.
Zoelyn frowned and relaxed more in her chair to slump fully against the window. “I hate thinking of you as just him or the Blight. Why won’t you tell me your name? You know mine.”
“I am Undrae, just like you. Call me that.” The Blight’s voice never grew louder than a whisper and there were times she nearly lost his words in the wind.
“I hate that word. I won’t call you that,” Zoelyn replied, her frown deepening. She started to say more but the sound of footsteps in the hall silenced her voice in her throat. Slowly she stood up and turned to face the door, her head cocking to one side as she listened closely for the direction of the sound. “They never come this late,” she whispered more to herself than to the Blight as she realized the footsteps were indeed approaching her door. Her gaze flicked to the half-eaten tray of food on her table and then back to the door once more.
The servants had set schedules that they never strayed from. In the morning a maid would appear with breakfast then tidy her room and take away the dinner from the night before. There would be another servant in the afternoon with lunch, usually a page boy that stared at her with wide eyes and ran the moment he sat the tray down. Then the evening would bring the last of her company in the form of an elderly woman who had yet to even say hello.
“Out the window,” the Blight hissed but the door was opening even as he spoke the words.
Zoelyn froze in place, her heart in her throat, as she watched a guard step into the room. The woman was dressed in the High Lord’s livery and fully armed. The guard glanced around the room with a bit of a puzzled expression and then her eyes settled on Zoelyn. “Were you talking just now?” she asked with a frown.
“To myself,” Zoelyn replied with a shy smile. “It gets lonely in here sometimes. I repeat poetry or stories to keep myself entertained.” The lie seemed to appease the woman and she simply nodded in response, her frown fading to a look of indifference.
“I was sent to fetch you. Lord Arovan says you are to bring your things and come with me at once,” the guard informed her with another quick glance around the room. “Though from the looks of things you don’t have much in the way of things to bring, now do you?”
“Only my coat,” Zoelyn replied as she moved to gather the heavy leather coat from the foot of her bed. “Can I ask where you are taking me?” Her voice was hesitant and the Blight’s suggestion of jumping out the window was sounding better and better.
“Lord Arovan said to bring you, girl. I didn’t question why. Now, follow me,” the guard replied in a sharper tone and Zoelyn found herself moving to follow before she fully registered what she was doing.
“Should have jumped,” the Blight whispered in her ear and Zoelyn smiled in response as she followed the guard down the long stone hallway. While she didn’t know her way around the house well, she was positive they were heading for the entry hall. It was hard to tell, though, the Arovan house was enormous compared to Dominic’s small three room cottage. Still, from the direction they were going it was unlikely that she was being taken to the dungeons, or worse, and honestly she couldn’t think of a single reason Lord Arovan would do either. She had been careful to be on perfect behavior her entire time in his house and had not complained once over anything.
Her curiosity grew stronger as the guard led her through door after door and finally down the long hallway that led to the front doors. There was no longer any doubt in Zoelyn’s mind that they were headed toward the doors. She recognized the suits of armor and paintings of the Arovan ancestors that lined the walls from her arrival at the House.
“Here she is.” Lord Arovan’s voice echoed down the hall and Zoelyn peered around the guard to see who he was speaking with. A woman stood to his side and just the sight of her gave Zoelyn pause. She was radiant in a gown of deep purple and more jewels than Zoelyn had ever glimpsed on anyone. Her deep violet eyes settled on Zoelyn and a faint smile curved her full lips, transforming her from beautiful to breathtaking in less than a moment. A handsome silver haired man stood beside her, dressed in purple and silver armor and it was a long moment before Zoelyn recognized the man. He had been there the night Lord Arovan had taken her from Dominic. In fact, he was the reason that she had been taken at all. Valor Hai’dia. The name formed in her mind as the memories resurfaced. He had been so distraught that night that it was hard to believe the pleasantly smiling man before her was the same person, but she knew without a doubt it was.
“Zoelyn, this is Lady Merrodin. You will be leaving with her,” Lord Arovan informed her calmly and bowed his head to the woman. “If you will excuse me now, Jala, I have a room full of very disgruntled High Lords to attempt to soothe.”
“I’m sorry for the trouble Elijah. I hope in time you will understand why I did what I felt had to be done,” The woman’s voice was gentle and just the sound of it eased Zoelyn’s mind a bit.