Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(21)

Shanti put down her needlepoint paraphernalia and leaned against the solid wood chair.

She’d been in Sanders’ house, much to Sanders’ continual frustration, for two weeks. It had been long enough to ascertain that she did not belong in a domestic setting for any longer than a night at a time. And while she had put on substantial weight in the short time, she was grossly lacking in muscle coordination and mental warfare. Worse still, without access to move freely and train unobstructed, she was forced to linger, the world growing older, the Graygual moving closer. The sun was drifting toward the horizon of her duty; she had to move on, but to do that, she had to get well.

“Patience, you’ll get it,” Junice said with a sweet smile.

Junice was Sanders’ adorable young wife, only married a month or so, and in charge of their quaint (by their standards) three bedroom house. The woman had a quick tongue and was completely besotted with Sanders, first name Avery. He was apparently a big teddy bear, which was some kind of stuffed mammal. Others, however, thought he was just the bear part, which was some sort of large, lumbering beast.

“Would you like to help me make bread?” Junice paused as she took a bag of flour from a shelf.

“No. Do you need your knives sharpened again? Or polished?”

Junice just smiled. Shanti had done it three times in two weeks. They were razor sharp and gleaming.

“I do not understand the fascination the Captain has with needlepoint.” Shanti rested her head on her fist and staring out the window at the distant treetops. The forest called to her. Beckoned. She wasn’t strong enough to get away from her honor guard--the group of bumbling boys that followed her around everywhere—in time to climb the twenty-foot wall and jump over. The boys usually caught her halfway up and dragged her back down. Xavier had a long reach. And an irritating smile.

“I think it isn’t that he wants you to learn it, so much as he wants you better.”

“I do not think he cares of my health. He wants my story. Punishment, then? Is that what he is after?”

Junice tsk’d at her. “The Captain isn’t vindictive.”

Junice didn’t know the Captain very well. Neither did Shanti, which she was thankful for. The man was a meddling jerk. She left the house for a walk, and someone showed up to tell her to go home and work on needlepoint. She opened the window for some air and to stare out at the trees, and someone wandered by with the needlepoint message. She even got interrupted while getting Junice water, of all things. She was helping, yet still the fascination with a trivial waste of time and materials.

She’d settled for drawing an explicit gesture on a piece of cloth and sending it to his house via messenger. She received the piece of cloth back with a message to try again, only this time, sew the gesture in needlepoint.

It wasn’t that he had no sense of humor, as she originally thought. He just told rotten jokes.

“What’s really bothering you?” Junice asked as she stirred a mixture of food items in a bowl.

“Besides that frustrating man who gives obtuse orders via messenger?” Junice nodded into her glaring eyes. “I’d like to wander in the wood. It’s been some time since I’ve been able to relax and shut off. It’d greatly help my recovery, but I’m sworn to stay inside city limits. Not that that would normally stop me, but I’m too weak to figure a way out.”

“Is that all?” Junice shook her head and put down her bowl. “You should learn to talk more, rather than just listen. C’mere, let me show you.”

“What?” Shanti blinked as Junice dragged her up by her arm.

“We have a fabulous wooded park here. Since I’m not your jailer, and you won’t be outside of the city, I think we’re within the rules.” Junice’s eyes sparkled. “Anyway, there aren’t any structures for children or meeting places, which means it isn’t used very often, but that might be just what you need!”

Shanti followed Junice with roving eyes, taking in the sights and sounds of the sleepy city. Swept footpaths and gleaming houses spoke of the overall pride these people had in their dwellings. Those passing by had a smile and a nod for Junice, pleasantly trying their best not to gawk at the strange woman beside her. From Shanti’s observation, there were no poor people. Those ‘less fortunate’, as Junice would say, could claim the comforts Molly displayed —things Shanti would call luxury. This city was extremely rich, and what’s more, not afraid to spread that wealth around.

She could’ve landed in worse places.

They took a path around some of the largest, most ornate houses Shanti had seen thus far. Well-tended vegetation and large yards sprawled around each two-story house. Small wooden fences sectioned off each residence, declaring the land as owned.

“Kind of selfish, not to share the soft grass with your townspeople,” Shanti muttered.

As they toured around the last house in the row, the crisp smell of nature welcomed Shanti in. Lush green took over the landscape; old and thriving trees grew unhindered. Wild and alive, the natural replenishment a forest could offer Shanti’s Gift softly caressed her senses, smiling and gesturing her forward.

“How did I not know this was here?” Shanti asked in a breathy whisper, staring into the deep, lush world of green.

“It is behind that square piece of development. City councilors get the perk of looking at trees instead of other houses or the wall. They treat it as their own backyard, but it’s actually available to everyone. It prevents hikers from having to venture outside the walls if they don’t want to. And lately, with all the Mugdock activity, nobody in their right mind wants to.”