Autumn Rose A Dark Heroine Novel by Abigail Gibbs

Author:Abigail Gibbs
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

I awoke when arms slid their way under the backs of my knees and my shoulders, and I felt a few drops of rain nestle themselves in my hair. I let my eyes flutter open only to close them again when I caught a glimpse of an off-white shirt and russet scars. I spent most of the journey inside trying to fake sleep and work out why I was fighting the urge to let my eyes go pink.

“What is going on? Alfie and Lisbeth came back early, they said something about Extermino . . . Lords of Earth, what happened to Autumn?!”

“Relax, Aunt, she’s just asleep,” Fallon said. My head was resting on his shoulder in the hollow beneath his jaw, and I could feel the tension in his throat adjust as he spoke. It made something burn in my chest.

“You will have to wake her up. You need to tell us what happened,” I heard Prince Lorent say.

“Give me a minute then. And have some chamomile tea ordered. Trust me, we need it.” The footsteps retreated and I heard a door open and close before I was placed on a chair. He sank down into the cushions beside me.

“Autumn, I’m sorry, but it’s time to wake up.”

Then move me off your shoulder, I thought. Nevertheless, I wriggled a little, opened my eyes, and slowly sat up, taking in our surroundings. We were on the sofa in the drawing room, which was empty. No fire had been lit and the room was still and cold, and the gentle tapping of rain on the windows, the ledges of which very nearly brushed the floor, didn’t help to warm the place up.

“Hey there,” Fallon said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, bleary-eyed. “Sweet dreams?”

“No. Not particularly.”

He removed his hand. “Did you have a vision?”

I shook my head and flattened the bloody pleats of my skirt. Thankfully, none of the blood had passed any higher than the hem of my blouse, so nobody had questioned how it had got there. It just looked like it was from my leg.

“You can get changed once we have explained what happened. My father . . .” he waved his hand, “I mean, the king, will need to know about this.”

I nodded. He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes, ignoring the bustling as maids and manservants entered and the fire was lit and the tea poured. When Chatwin came over with the tea, I thanked him and avoided eye contact, because I knew he kept glancing at my skirt. When he had gone, I eyed the liquid in the cup skeptically. It was golden and looked like something I would never drink.

“It’s calming,” Fallon reassured. He seemed quite happy to take gulps of his, and no sugar had been added, so I took a few sips. I was nervous anyway. Anything that might help me explain about Nathan had to be a good thing. It tasted fruity, and reminded me of the herbal drinks my grandmother had brewed when I was a child, to ward off my headaches.

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