Audette of Brookraven by Shari L. Tapscott

Author:Shari L. Tapscott [Tapscott, Shari L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Published: 2016-07-07T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Letta looks out the carriage window, her eyes as bright as I’ve ever seen them. For some reason unbeknownst to me, we brought the girl with us. Before we left, Irving rode to the orphanage to gather her things. He came back empty-handed. Her only belonging was the dress she was wearing when we found her.

Now Letta has three dresses, two new pairs of boots, a lightweight cape, and seven guardians that have no idea how to parent her.

Grace and Javid take us to the villa, say their goodbyes to us and Letta, and then continue on to the castle. After they leave, Letta stands in the courtyard, marveling at the estate with her hands clasped over the wooden doll Milly bought her before we left Constelita.

Maids and menservants scurry about, gathering our things. At first, many do double takes when they see me, and then they send curious glances my way, which I choose to ignore. Since last night, my hair has darkened further from light brown to the color of dark ale.

I lock the door when I reach my quarters and immediately go to the mirror. My reflection startles me. With a tentative hand, I undo my braid and run my fingers through my hair. There are streaks of pale blond, areas not touched by magic, and they mingle with the dark strands, twisting in the braid-crinkled waves.

As Letta said, my eyes are a shade darker too, though the change isn’t as noticeable as my hair.

The color is odd on me, different. Though I was partial to my blond hair, the reason for my melancholy is not caused by vanity. It’s that I no longer resemble my mother. It used to be that if I’d look in the mirror and turn a certain way, I could see her in my reflection. Remember her.

My hand freezes as the light catches my ring. With my stomach feeling as if it’s dropped to the floor, I yank my hand from my hair and examine the stone.

The light blue aquamarine, the jewel Mother wore every day because she said it reminded her of the Ptarmish sea, is as black as night.

Safe in my room, alone from pitying eyes, I allow my emotions to flow to the surface. I close my eyes and wrap my hands in my hair. Hot tears run down my cheeks. I know I’m wallowing; I know crying won’t do any good, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

Suddenly, I look up. In the reflection, my darkened, tear-stained eyes look determined. Hopeful.

The unicorns can fix it.

With that fortifying thought tucked in my heart, I again braid my hair and turn my back on the mirror.

***

If Aunt Camilla finds me in her hall in the wee hours of the morning, knocking on Irving’s door, I’ll never hear the end of it.

It was simple enough to slip past the knights in the halls. Though they might have been curious about my presence, they only nodded respectfully when I passed. Aunt Camilla would be more than curious.

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