Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I apologize, Lord Varrick, but my clan fears her—”
“More than me?” Varrick snapped and glanced around the Great Hall to see all the servants’ heads bowed, not one willing to meet his eyes. He turned his attention back to Newlin, who stared past him, his mouth agape. He noticed then his warriors wore similar expressions, and he turned.
His wife stood just inside the door, a blanket draped around her and her auburn hair falling in lovely waves over her shoulders onto her chest, sparks of a brighter red glinting in the shiny strands. Her hair was not the only thing about her that caught the eye. She had a beauty that left one speechless and deep dark eyes that mesmerized all who glanced at her.
“Do not look at her!” Argus shouted. “She will steal your soul!”
Everyone turned their heads away except Varrick. He went to her, and she was surprised when he looked her straight in the eyes.
“I have no soul to lose,” he said, then turned to his warriors. “Go make ready for departure.” He never saw his men move so fast, avoiding Fia as they filed from the room. He looked at Fia and pointed to a table. “Sit!”
Fia went to the table, grateful it was by the hearth and sat with her back to the flames so the heat would finish drying her hair while seeping into her bones. A thought struck her as she settled on the bench, resting the blanket beside her. Her husband professed no fear for her, but he had yet to offer his arm or hand to her. Did he fear touching her?
“Fresh food and drink for my wife,” Varrick called out, and when not a single servant moved, he let loose with a roar. “NOW!”
His roar sent a shudder through Fia and had every single servant running. She was relieved when not long after Cora was the one to bring food and drink to her.
The woman stared in shock when she stopped in front of the table. “All talk of your beauty and I see they do not lie.”
“Beauty is the mark of the devil,” the cleric said, having entered the room with rushed steps. “It must be vanquished before it spellbinds Lord Varrick.” He raised his hand, a dagger clenched in it as he lunged at Fia.
Varrick launched himself at the man, but instinct had Fia grabbing the tankard in front of her with the hot brew and tossing the contents in the cleric’s face before Varrick could reach him. He stumbled back screaming, his hands rushing to his face and his dagger’s blade catching his cheek and slicing it. He dropped the dagger and pressed his hand to his cheek, then pulled it away to stare, stunned at the blood dripping from his fingers. Then he pointed an accusing, blood-stained finger at Fia. “She is evil. She forced me to cut my face.”
Newlin hurried to the cleric and waved to a servant who stood frozen with shock. “Get the cleric to our healer.”
“I can help him,” Fia said and went to stand. A firm hand on her shoulder prevented her from doing so. She turned her head to see Varrick standing behind her.
“You will stay where you are,” he demanded.
“I beg you, do not touch her. She will work her evil ways upon you, and you will be fodder for the devil,” the cleric warned, blood dripping down along his chin and onto his robe. “Mar her beauty before it is too late for you.”
Argus entered with Marsh in time to hear the cleric’s plea and his eyes went wide when he saw Varrick standing behind Fia with his hand on her shoulder, and Varrick could almost hear his friend’s thought.
It is already too late.
CHAPTER 4
Fia barely drank and ate enough to quench her hunger when Varrick commanded their departure. Clan Strathearn wanted her gone, and she believed her presence troubled Lord Varrick’s warriors. They feared her, though senseless as it was, there was no denying it. Unfortunately, that could prove dangerous for her.
Could she change that? Was it even possible? She was not sure. She only knew it was best that she took her leave and quickly.
Lord Varrick had grabbed the blanket from her hands when she had gone to wrap it around her before leaving the keep and replaced it with a hooded, fur-lined cloak. She kept it tugged around her, locking in the warmth.
Her mum and grandmother had taught her to always keep a keen eye and to stay alert to her surroundings wherever she was. That was what she did now. She watched as the villagers made their way among Lord Varrick’s warriors handing them each something that they eagerly accepted. Fia did not see what it was at first, but she had surmised what it might be… a talisman. The villagers were offering the warriors protection against her.