Damask & Deception (Spellbound #2)

Chapter 12: The Last Song

Rhiannon hurried across the courtyard, trying to keep her eyes averted from the large wooden post in the middle where her stepfather whipped those who displeased him. It could be a servant doing a poor job or a serf not paying enough taxes, or questioning his authority. Or a stepdaughter refusing to bend to his will. The thought brought a shiver with it, and the skin on her back felt tight and sore.

After all these years, the post still stood tall. A deterrent and reminder to anyone who might dare oppose Lord Delen or displease him in any way. Her stepfather had never been one to take the subtle route. The whipping post cast a long shadow over the cobbled ground, making her speed up her steps.

Turning around the side of the castle, she entered the garden and immediately felt a wave of calm wash over her. This was her domain. Had always been her domain. The castle gardens were a combination of well-tended bushes and flower beds closer to the castle, and a spot of tamed wilderness a little further away towards the sprawling forest. This was where she'd first learnt to recognise the different herbs and plants, discovering what they could do and how one could use them for various potions and salves.

Her stepfather had hated her affinity to nature.

"No daughter of mine will run around in the gardens picking leaves and roots!"

"I'm not your daughter!"

"While you live under my roof, you will damn well behave as one!"

She pushed away the echoes of the past as she foraged further into the gardens. The full moon above allowed ample light to see where she was going. Even all these years later, her feet found their path as if she'd been gone mere days. As she walked, she hummed a melody without words, her voice rising towards the clear night skies like the gossamer wings of a dragonfly.

Opening the leather satchel she'd brought, she picked some herbs that could prove useful. Her stepfather had never realised quite how valuable nature's bounty was, or he might not have opposed it as much as he had. If she wanted to, she knew how to kill a full-grown man with as little as a few ground leaves in his drink. Reaching a bush of golden buds, she ran her fingers over one of them as she kept singing, watching as the flower slowly unfolded and bloomed in her hand. When the brilliant flower stretched its petals fully in her palm, she snipped it off at the stem and put it away in her satchel.

She was nearly done collecting the items she wanted when the snap of a branch made her whip around. A dark shadow loomed underneath a tree and she tensed. Would no one leave her alone today?

"Who goes there? Show yourself!" All she had with her was a small scythe for cutting herbs, and she gripped it a little tighter. When the shadow emerged and the moonlight revealed her mother, she loosened the grip again. Putting the small blade away in the satchel, she frowned. "What do you want, Mother?"

"Rhiannon." Her mother wrung her hands in front of her waist, her eyes pleading. "I am so happy to see you again. To see that you are safe."

Safe. What a funny word choice. "Why? You never bothered keeping me safe when I lived here."

Lady Delen flinched as if she'd been slapped. "I helped you," she said feebly. "I unbound you. I gave you supplies and a horse so you could escape."

Rhiannon nodded while clenching her fist and digging her nails into the soft tissue of her palm. "You did," she agreed. "And I'm grateful for that, but it doesn't absolve you of the years when you looked the other way."

"I know." Her mother's eyes glistened in the moonlight. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother. Your father, he—"

"He's not my father!" she snapped. "My father was an honourable man who would never have treated me the way Lord Delen did!"

Lady Delen fingered the medallion she always wore. "He was a wonderful man. But he had a temper, like you, and struggled to stay quiet in the face of authority. It's what got him killed, I suspect."

Killed?

"You said he died in an accident."

"That's what they told me, but I think he angered the wrong people." Her mother met her gaze with surprising candour. "Just like you are wont to do."

"Are you saying it's my fault he treated me that way?" She dug her nails into her palms again, relishing in the pain, using it to keep her grounded.

"No." Her mother sighed. "But it might not have been as bad as it was if you didn't challenge him every step of the way."

Rhiannon turned around, unable to look at her mother. Looking up at the pale disc of the moon, she recounted the herbs needed for a draught to relieve aches. Dragon's breath. Silverweed. Everbell.

"Where are you going next?" Her mother's question brought her back, and she turned around.

"I will marry the king, so I will leave for Ossol tomorrow."

Her mother gasped. "Oh, may the Gods bless you, child! I am so relieved. I know your fa... stepfather is more than ready to rebel."

"I never wanted to be a pawn in his games. He deserves no political influence. But I will do it." Rhiannon shook her head as her mother took two steps towards her. The older woman faltered. "No. Do not touch me. After I leave here tomorrow, I never want to hear a word from either of you. As far as you're concerned, I might as well be dead."

"Of course." Lady Delen swallowed. Pulling the medallion over her head, she held out the necklace. "Here. Take this. It's from your father's family. You should have it."

Hesitantly, Rhiannon reached out and accepted the piece of jewellery. She ran her fingers over the intricate design where it rested in her palm. A tree or bush of some sort growing from the soil, with branches reaching far and wide, spreading across the width of the medallion.

"You never told me much about him. I hardly remember."

Her mother nodded, the shadow of a smile lingering on her lips. "You were only little when he passed. He loved you dearly. That is his family crest on the medallion. They were an old family too, but most are gone now."

"Are any of them still around?"

"I think he had a brother who was quite a lot younger." Lady Delen looked down at her hands. "He lived in Messina last I heard. Whether he survived the Battle, I do not know."

"What's his name?" She'd never met any of her father's family. When her mother had married Lord Delen, that part of their life had been completely cut off.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember. He was much younger, only a child when I met him."

Rhiannon looked down at the medallion in her hand. This was the closest she'd been to her father for two decades. The closest she'd ever be again. Putting the necklace on, she settled it above her heart. "Thank you for this."

"I hope it can bring you some peace."

"I think that's beyond me at this point." She didn't relish the bitterness of her words, but could not keep her tone neutral.

The shadow of a smile played at her mother's lips. "You are so much like your father."

Looking her mother in the eyes, Rhiannon straightened her back. "I take that as a compliment."

Wanting to escape further conversation, she turned her back and walked towards the castle. The next words from her mother were so faint she couldn't be sure she'd heard them properly.

"It was."

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