“I was given leave to use the stables,” she replied slowly.
“And where did you go off to this morning with none the wiser to your whereabouts, I wonder?” Finnigan demanded.
“Begging your pardon, Mister Finnigan, but it sounds as though you are accusing me of something. As I have already said, I’ve been given leave to use the stables. I was out for a ride.”
Finnigan narrowed his eyes. “My apologies then, I was merely curious. I am protective of our household.”
She smiled, relenting easily. “Of course, Finnigan.”
Offering a quick curtsey in farewell, she limped back to her chambers.
Elizabeth cringed as her foot came out of the boot and was alarmed to discover that the middle of her foot was purple. That godsdamned horse.
She bathed and emerged to find Fiza already waiting, laying out products on her vanity.
Fiza styled her hair with skilled fingers and helped her tie up the corset of a velvet gown that trailed on the floor. Finished, Fiza departed with a curtsey, leaving her to her own devices for the afternoon.
After a moment of hesitation, she took out a quill and several sheets of parchment. She sat at her writing desk in silence, debating what she could possibly say to her family and Charlotte. Dipping her quill in the pot of ink, she decided to write the easiest letter first. Charlotte. She kept it light and positive and avoided mentioning that her blood was the price of her stay.
Dipping her quill into the pot of ink once more, she grimaced, and began writing a letter to her parents. She kept it short and to the point, giving her reasons for leaving, and ended the letter by saying she was open to staying in contact if they allowed it.
She sealed the letters with a dribble of sealing wax and watched it harden. It was the first time she had ever sealed a letter without pressing her house sigil intothe wax. The unmarked seal was how a commoner, or someone disowned from their family name, would seal a letter.
A nobody.
That’s who she was now.
The sight of the fat drop of wax without the Ashcroft tree and stars made her heart ache.
She hoped that one day, they would find it in their hearts to forgive her.
***
Once her foot healed after a few days rest, she fell into a new routine. After rising, she would take Draugr out for exercise around the paddock, a tiresome process that involved a lot of coaxing. Then she would take one of the friendlier horses out on the trails. She would race her horse through fields until her pent-up energy was spent, and her limbs grew sweaty and trembling from the exercise. Only then could she don her court mask and return to her quiet, poised existence in the castle.
If she didn’t feel like riding, she would wander the trails on foot and hike far into the mountains. In the afternoons, she would sit quietly and pretend to be some soft, demure thing, reading in the library or practicing her needlepoint in the lounge. She spent the day doing exactly as she wished, and for the most part, enjoyed the peace and solitude.
Caspian proved to be very generous. On her fifth day in the castle, a small sack of gold appeared on her writing desk. Fiza explained it was an allowance to buy herself whatever she wished.
After this, she occasionally returned to her chamber to find small gifts waiting for her. A new dress, or piece of jewellery. Some of the dresses he gave her were too small or too big, a reminder that he must have had many mistresses before her.
She wondered what had happened to them, but she was afraid to ask.
In the evening, she would sit at her writing desk and jot down ideas about where her next steps could take her, what she could sell, and what she would need to start anew.
Every time she put a quill to paper to plot her future, she would read over it a few times and burn the pages in her fireplace until nothing but smoldering ashes remained.
She didn’t trust any of the servants. Though she liked Fiza, she wouldn’t put it past her to go through her things and report her every move to the master of the house.
One day in the library, she happened upon a book of maps. She had grinned at her good fortune but after several fruitless days of trying to memorize all the different roads, she gave up. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she slid the book from the shelf and replaced it with one of her own so there wasn’t a gap in the books.
Tucking the book of maps in the crook of her arm, she walked back to her chambers at a casual pace to avoid suspicion. Though Caspian didn’t tell her shecouldn’ttake out any books from the library, something about it felt wrong.
She kept it in a trunk at the bottom of her closet, ready to say she had borrowed it to learn more about the kingdom. When no one mentioned the missing book in the coming days, she relaxed, pushing away the feeling that she was a child about to be caught misbehaving.
Sometimes, she wondered where Caspian was.
She hardly ever saw him.
