From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [101]
Whether Vrell Sparrow was inside her or not, the next morning Averella unpacked her green travel gown, thankful to have something proper to wear.
When she unlaced the peasant dress and slipped it off her shoulders, three things startled her. First—and she had suspected this since she awoke yesterday—she was wearing no corset. Second, a man’s ring hung on a gold chain around her neck. And third, linen bound her waist. No wonder she had been feeling sore.
No one had mentioned her being wounded in their tales of Vrell Sparrow. But this explained why she wore no corset, for it would aggravate a wound in such a location.
Averella clutched the bodice to her chest and stepped up to the candle to inspect the ring.
The wide gold band was topped with the crest of Armonguard—a castle—and engraved with the letters AEH. A ruby glimmered in the castle’s entrance. Three smaller rubies decorated each tower on the castle.
Merciful heart! This was King Axel’s signet ring.
It was all true. And even if Mother had pledged Averella to this mysterious Crown Prince, Averella would never wear such a token around her neck unless she cared for the man.
Achan Cham. Prince Gidon Hadar.
Not the Gidon Hadar she had always known and loathed. For all this time he had been an impostor.
She must truly care for the real Prince Gidon, then.
She set the ring on the sideboard and unwrapped the linen bandage. An ugly pink gash marred her smooth skin. A crusty brown scab held the wound together like wax. She could not be sure, but it looked like she had been stabbed.
She reeled over this. What kind of danger had she gone through? Hoping her travel pack held some answers, she searched it and found a satchel filled with herbs, jars of salves, linen strips, a lock of dark hair, a man’s red sleeve, and a small sword she somehow knew was called Firefox.
But no corset. Even with her wound, why would she travel so far and not bring one for when she was healed? The very idea was scandalous. Perhaps Gren had it in her things.
She pulled the bodice back over her arms and cracked open the door. “Gren? Could you come here a moment?”
A shadow passed between the distant lantern and where Averella stood. The floor creaked. The shadow stopped before the door and the faint light from Averella’s candle illuminated Harnu Poe’s face.
“Gren went out with Noam to check on the horses.”
Averella gasped and pushed the door closed. “Thank you, Master Poe. I shall wait until she returns.”
She remained beside the door until the heavy footfalls faded away. Merciful heart! How awkward to have such a man under the same roof. She couldn’t very well prance around in front of him without a corset. The very idea!
She could not wait until Gren returned. She pictured Gren’s face in her mind. Gren? Can you hear me?
My lady? Gren’s voice squeaked. Where are you?
In my chamber, of course. Has no one spoken to you with bloodvoices before?
I did not think I was capable of such magic.
It is my magic, not yours. This fact seemed obvious to Averella, though she could not guess why. I need my corset. Do you have it?
No, my lady. You told me you disliked how tight they were. You said the boning in your gown was corset enough.
I would never!
Gren sighed as if exasperated with Averella. Maybe not before, but that is what you told me on our journey. Something about having to wear a disguise for so long.
Heat flushed up Averella’s spine and burned her cheeks. Thank you, Gren. Forgive my tone. I am not myself.
Not that she had any idea who she was anymore. That she would ride a horse with no corset shocked her to no end, wounded or not. She dug the strips of linen out from her satchel and wrapped her chest as best she could.
She draped the peasant dress over the end of the bed and pulled on her own gown. The soft cotton kissed her skin,