“If it is a broodmare you are looking for, you must seek her elsewhere,” Tariel insisted, slapping his hand away. “You are a detestable and repulsive man, and I will not submit to your boorishattentions!”
Lord Sowell laughed, then lunged forward and grabbed Tariel by the throat. She cried out in pain as he dragged her forward, hauling her to her feet. Magic surged through her body in response, and it was all she could do not to lash out athim.
“Oh, I will take great pleasure in taming you,” he gloated as she gasped for air. His hot, sour breath spewed over her face as he pulled her close, his fleshy lips mere millimeters away from her skin. “It’s the spitfires that are always the most fun tobreak.”
He crushed his mouth against Tariel’s, and the taste of him was so repugnant, Tariel could not hold back any longer. She shoved him as hard as she could, and her magic sent him flying into the sofa behind him. There was a loud crack as he struck his head against the hard wooden frame, and he slumped sideways,unconscious.
“Oh gods,” Tariel breathed, clapping her hands to her mouth. Panic rolled through her as she realized what she haddone.
“What happened?” the servant cried, rushing into the room. His face paled at the sight of Lord Sowell, prone on the sofa. “Is heinjured?”
“I’m not sure,” Tariel said, torn between the desire to check him for a pulse and the need to stay as far away from him as possible. “He collapsed without warning and hit his head on thecouch.”
The servant touched Lord Sowell on his head, then jumped back when the man let out a loud groan. “I did no such thing,” he growled, opening bleary eyes. He jabbed an accusing finger at Tariel. “You struckme!”
“I—I—”
“Leave us,” Lord Sowell hissed at the servant. He ignored the servant’s attempts to help him up into a sitting position, and glared at him until the servant skittered out of the room. “And shut the door behindyou!”
“No!” Tariel cried, but it was too late. The servant wasn’t going to help her, not after what she’d done. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up just in time for Lord Sowell to grab a fistful of hair. He yanked her head back so sharply she felt something crack, and pain zinged through herneck.
“I don’t know how a scrawny little thing like you managed to push me over, but it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince the others you did it with witchcraft,” Lord Sowell snarled. “If you do not agree to this marriage, and submit to my every wish, I will summon Jerrold the Witch Hunter and have you burned at the stake. Do youunderstand?”
“Y-yes,” Tariel stammered, her heart pounding with fear. She wished there was something she could do to stand up to Lord Sowell, but even if she could strike at him again with her magic, it would do no good. If he survived, he would have her burned at the stake, and if he did not, she would be hanged formurder.
“Good. Now give your husband-to-be akiss.”
Tariel squeezed her eyes shut as Lord Sowell mashed his wet lips against hers. Tears burned at the corners of her eyelids as her new fiancé slobbered all over her, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and never, ever come back upagain.
She had tried to get Lord Sowell to reject her, and now, he held the ultimate threat over her head. Her only choice was to submit…or to fall upon a sword of her own making and die with what dignity she still hadleft.
8
Tariel wantednothing more than to retreat to the solace of her rooms, but after Lord Sowell informed Lady Tyrook that Tariel had accepted his proposal, Tariel was forced to spend the rest of the afternoon with them as they talked through various negotiations and discussed the details of the wedding. She spoke as little as possible, but Lord Sowell didn’t seem to mind—her presence was less about the need for her opinion and more to ensure herobedience.
After dinner, Lord Sowell informed them he needed to get back to the estate, and that he would be back in seven days for the wedding. Lady Tyrook allowed him to escort her back to her tower room before he took his leave, and at the top of the steps, Tariel was forced to endure yet another one of his awful kisses. He pressed her up against the wall, and terror gripped Tariel’s throat as his engorged manhood jutted against her thigh through her skirts. A servant waited just below, but Lord Sowell needed only to clap a hand around her mouth to ensure she didn’t scream if he wanted to violate her. With the threat of being burned at the stake hanging over her head, she would not be able to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to herbody.
“Don’t fret, bride,” he sneered, pulling away. “I will not invite Roisen’s wrath upon me by taking you before our wedding night. You will be safe until then, as long as you remain on your best behavior. Don’t even think about trying to escape—you’ll be watched very carefully while I’mgone.”
Tariel said nothing—she simply wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, the only show of defiance she could manage. Lord Sowell’s eyes narrowed at the insult, but as he looked her up and down in the dim light, taking in the way her entire body quaked with fear and rage, a smirk curled his fat lips. Oh, how she wished she could hide her weakness fromhim!
When Lord Sowell finally lumbered down the stairs, Tariel sighed in relief. It took her several fumbling tries with the key to get the door open, her hands were shaking so hard. Only when she locked the door securely behind her did she finally let the tears flowfreely.
What was she to do now? Even if she kept her head down and did as Lord Sowell asked, she was bound to have a magical outburst in his presence sooner or later. She wouldn’t be surprised if it happened during their wedding night, and she injured him, or even accidentally killedhim.
What if you did it on purpose?an insidious voice whispered in her mind.If you used your magic to make it look like an accident, you would gain his land andwealth.
The thought gave Tariel pause. She mulled it over in her mind, but even if she was cold-blooded enough to commit such an act, she wasn’t skilled enough with her magic to pull it off. From what she understood, it took quite a bit of practice, and with her limited power all she’d really been able to master was the art of illusions and silencing her footfalls so she could sneak around quietly. That was how she’d managed to take reading lessons from Calrain without being caught, though he’d had no idea she was using magic. The other, more powerful feats of magic she’d accomplished, such as creating the window, had been done completely by accident, and she had never been able to replicate themsuccessfully.
Perhaps it is time to return to the attic,she thought, looking up at the ceiling again. Clearly, conventional methods were not going to work. Besides, at this point, what did she have tolose?
Resolved, Tariel took up the candleholder by her bed and crossed the room. Pushing aside a tapestry, she pressed her hand against the panel behind it. It scraped against the stone floor as it gave way, revealing a long disused service stairwell that led to the closed-off part of the tower she called “the attic” in her mind. The candle illuminated the winding staircase, and she shuddered a little as a rat scampered away, its tiny claws clacking against the dustylimestone.
Squaring her shoulders, Tariel crept up the stairs to the upper floor. There were several rooms up here—the entire floor was a suite that had belonged to a long-dead Tyrook ancestor who by all accounts had traveled quite extensively. There were furnishings, instruments, and art from around the world that Tariel had once spent hours examining withdelight.
But today, she went straight to the study and opened the second drawer on the right side of thedesk.
Moonlight streamed through the window behind the desk, illuminating the abacus within. The smooth wood and semi-precious stones strung across sturdy wires gleamed, beckoning her to reach out and touchit.
