Damask & Deception (Spellbound #2)

Chapter 11: Home

Rhiannon paced the length of her childhood room. As if playing a cruel prank, her parents had chosen it for her overnight stay. Of course, they had. It had changed in the decade she'd been gone, but she still recognised it. The window had the best view of the castle gardens, where she'd enjoyed spending warm summer evenings, and one wall even had marks from when one of her experiments had gone wrong.

Sir Baudwin... No. King Baudwin had left her alone after their talk at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe he was in too much pain to climb them. She had noticed some evenings after a long day sitting in the carriage, he struggled to walk up the stairs at the Inns. It was just as well, she'd said everything she needed to. Tomorrow she would be gone, and she would never see the handsome king again. It was all for the best.

There was a knock on the door, and a young blonde maid entered.

"Lady Rhiannon." She curtsied, her head bent low. "I was sent to help you prepare for bed."

"I can prepare myself, thank you."

Living alone for years taught you to wear simple clothes that you could get in and out of yourself. Turning her back to the maid, she rummaged through her knapsack on the bed. It took her a moment to realise that the young woman wasn't leaving. She frowned. "You may leave."

"My lady, please allow me to help you. I can brush your hair." The maid twisted her hands before taking a step towards the dressing table with its stool and mirror. She motioned towards it. "Please, my lady?"

"Fine." It had been a long time since she had allowed anyone to brush her hair. Maybe it would be relaxing. She sat down on the low stool and stared at the mirror. It wasn't something she'd bothered obtaining, and she wasn't sure when she'd last seen her reflection in anything other than the murky water of the swamp. She looked largely the same as she remembered, her hair longer and her face kissed by the sun in a way she'd never allowed in her youth. Apparently, she had freckles. Not many, but a few were scattered over the bridge of her nose and the top of her cheeks.

The maid came up behind her, grabbed a brush off the dressing table and began brushing her long hair. It was maybe a little too long, reaching well below her waist. She should have it cut.

"Your hair is beautiful, my lady." The maid raked the brush through the golden-red tresses. "Such an amazing colour."

"Thank you," Rhiannon muttered, not used to compliments. It was nice having someone brushing her hair. She'd forgotten how nice it was to be attended to once in a while. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feeling as the maid began braiding to keep it away from her face during the night.

"Rhiannon." The sound of a man's voice made her jump and she would have whipped her head around had the maid not held her hair in a tight grip. Staring into the mirror, she saw a man appear behind the young woman, his face unfamiliar to her. Ginger hair, and a beard of the same colour, blue eyes. There was something about the look of him that made a cold shiver run down her back.

"Who are you?" She tentatively moved her head, but the maid's grip held it still.

"It's not important," the ginger man said, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "What's important is what I'm about to tell you."

Rhiannon felt bile rising in her throat. They'd found her? Already? Grabbing onto the polished wood of the dressing table, she held onto it, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. She would have fought them, but she needed to know how much they knew.

"How did you find me?" The words were strained as she stared at the man's reflection.

"I've been here for years," he admitted with an unamused chuckle. "Waiting. Biding my time. In case you returned." He moved around to lean a hip against the dressing table, looking down at her with a smirk. "You've been gone a long time. We've been looking, but never found you. When we heard of the plan to marry you to the king, we scarcely believed our luck."