Seraphina
The wine tasted like poison in my mouth. Around me, the great hall blazed with firelight and laughter. Musicians played merry tunes while servants rushed between tables laden with roasted meats and honey cakes. Everyone smiled and danced as if this were a true celebration. As if my life weren't ending tonight.
"Raise your cups!" Father's voice boomed over the noise. Lord Aldric Ravencrest stood tall at the high table, his silver hair gleaming in the torchlight. "Tonight we celebrate the union of House Ravencrest and House Blackclaw!"
The crowd cheered. I wanted to vomit.
Beside me at the high table, Magnus Blackclaw sat like a mountain of muscle and scars. His dark hair hung loose around his shoulders, and those pale gray eyes never stopped watching me. When he smiled, I saw too many teeth.
"Drink up, little bird," he said, pushing my wine cup closer. His voice was rough as grinding stone. "We have much to discuss later."
I lifted the cup with steady hands, though my stomach churned. "Of course, my lord."
The High King's messenger, a thin man in royal blue, unrolled his scroll with ceremony. "By decree of His Majesty King Aldwin the Third, the union between Lady Seraphina of House Ravencrest and Lord Magnus of House Blackclaw shall strengthen the northern borders and bring peace to our realm!"
More cheers. Magnus leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear.
"I do enjoy a good hunt," he whispered. "And you, sweet girl, will be the most entertaining prey I've ever caught."
My blood turned to ice water. I kept my face blank, years of practice hiding my thoughts. But inside, I was screaming.
Father caught my eye and nodded approvingly. He'd dressed me in his mother's silk gown tonight, deep blue with silver embroidery. Like a prize horse being shown at the market.
"Seraphina looks lovely tonight, doesn't she?" Father said to Magnus. "Beautiful and obedient. She'll make you a perfect wife."
"Oh, I'm sure she will." Magnus ran one thick finger along his wine cup's rim. "Though I may need to teach her some... manners first. I find young wives often need proper training."
The older lords chuckled as if he'd made a clever joke. My nails dug into my palms.
I'd heard the whispers about Magnus Blackclaw. How his first wife had died in a "riding accident" after only two years of marriage. How serving girls in his castle often disappeared. How he collected trophies from his enemies and sometimes his friends.
"Tell me, my lord," I said carefully, "what happened to your previous wife? I've heard so little about her."
Magnus's smile grew wider. "Poor Eleanor. Such a clumsy girl. Always falling down stairs, running into doors. Horses can be so unpredictable too." He shrugged. "Some women just don't know their place."
The wine turned sour in my throat. Around us, the music played on.
"Seraphina has always been so graceful," Father said quickly. "Never a bit of trouble."
"I'm sure she'll learn quickly enough." Magnus reached over and covered my hand with his massive one. His skin felt like leather, rough and cold. "I have very effective teaching methods."
I wanted to snatch my hand away and run screaming from the hall. Instead, I smiled sweetly. "I look forward to learning from you, my lord."
A flash of movement caught my eye. My cousin Elena glided past our table, carrying a wine pitcher. As she poured Magnus's cup, she bumped my elbow slightly. A piece of paper dropped into my lap.
"Clumsy me," Elena laughed, curtseying low. "Please forgive me, my lords."
"Think nothing of it," Magnus waved her away, already turning back to his conversation with Father. I slipped the paper into my sleeve while they discussed wedding arrangements and dowries. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"The ceremony will be tomorrow at dawn," Father was saying. "No point in waiting."
"Eager, are we?" Magnus laughed. "I like that. Though I prefer my brides to have some... spirit left in them. Makes the wedding night more interesting."
The lords laughed again. I felt sick.
As soon as I could, I excused myself. "Too much wine," I said with an embarrassed smile. "I need some air."
"Don't go far," Magnus called after me. "The night is young, and we have much to discuss."
I nodded and hurried from the hall, my silk skirts rustling. The moment I reached the empty corridor, I unfolded Elena's note.
East tower window. Rope hidden behind loose stone. Guards change at midnight. This is your only chance. - E
My hands shook as I read it again. Elena had always been like a sister to me, and she must have seen my desperation. But escape seemed impossible. The manor was surrounded by guards for the celebration. Every exit would be watched.
I looked back toward the great hall. Through the doorway, I could see Magnus holding court, telling some violent story that made the other men roar with laughter. In a few hours, I would belong to him completely. The thought made my skin crawl.
No. I wouldn't let that happen.
I gathered my skirts and hurried through the corridors toward the servant wing. My soft shoes made no sound on the stone floors. The music from the hall grew fainter with each step.
The east tower was the oldest part of the manor, used mostly for storage now. If Elena had hidden a rope there, I might actually have a chance. The window faced the forest, if I could reach the trees, I could disappear into the darkness. My heart pounded as I climbed the narrow stone steps. Each shadow seemed to hide watching eyes. Each creak made me freeze and listen. But the servants were all busy with the feast, and the guards were focused on the entrances.
The tower room smelled of dust and old tapestries. Moonlight streamed through the tall window, casting everything in silver. I rushed to the wall Elena had mentioned and felt along the stones until one shifted under my fingers. The rope was there, coiled and ready.
I tied one end to the heavy iron window latch and tested it with my weight. It held. The ground looked impossibly far below, but I'd climbed these walls as a child. I could do this. I was just lifting my leg over the windowsill when footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.
Heavy footsteps. Moving with purpose. I froze, one foot on the stone sill, the rope clutched in my hands. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by the soft scrape of steel on stone. Someone was coming up the stairs.
The door creaked open behind me.
"Well, well," said a familiar rough voice. "What have we here?"
I turned slowly, my heart dropping into my stomach. Magnus Blackclaw stood in the doorway, his massive frame filling the entire opening. His pale eyes glittered with amusement as he took in the rope, the open window, and my position on the sill.
"Going somewhere, little bird?"