Dark One's Bride by Aldrea Alien

Author:Aldrea Alien [Alien, Aldrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy romance, gothic romance, Young Adult, victorian, gothic, sweet, clean, new adult, coming of age
Publisher: Thardrandian Publications
Published: 2019-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The clang of steel greeted Clara’s ears as she neared the training grounds. She hesitated in following Tommy down the corridor before continuing on, ensuring to keep close to her page without giving off the appearance of a mouse flushed from its hole.

The corridor was deserted. Not the emptiness of all-but-servants that they’d come across on their way down here, but fully uninhabited save for Tommy and herself. Visibly, at least. That meant no one to see if anything untoward happened to their soon-to-be Great Lady and her page, but also no one to watch her scurrying steps.

They exited the castle and made their way down a covered path winding around the building. In this late afternoon, much of the guard was on duty. Most marched along the outer wall, little more than helmeted heads bobbing along. Occasionally, one would step a little closer to the inner edge of the wall. Peering her way, she was sure of it.

She halted and glanced over her shoulder, hugging herself to mask the subtle check of her dagger’s clearance.

Even with Thad’s insistence that not all of his father’s men were as savage as the one who had dared the attempt of forcing himself on her some months back, she still wasn’t willing to find herself alone with one of Endlight’s numerous, and free-willed, guards.

A part of her craved the normality of the Citadel, however oddly perverse it was for her mind to easily slip into thinking of the soulless army as ordinary. Like most of her hometown, she hadn’t known the truth behind the army before they’d snatched her off the streets. Even with living on the Citadel’s doorstep.

Despite the lack of a soul driving their desires—some of them quite disgusting, based on the reasons for their punishment—there wasn’t the hollowness she’d once attributed to them. She’d grown fond of a few, like Gutting Gettie who’d earned her nomenclature via way of retribution for the things her lecherous victims had done to young girls.

But, even with the men and women in the Citadel being punished criminals, Clara could count on them to have her health and safety in mind. Even if it was only because that was what the man who possessed their souls demanded.

Here was different.

Those who weren’t guarding the castle would prefer relaxation or some other form of entertainment to sparring, unlike the soulless people of the Great Lord’s army. Their routine was one she’d become accustomed to during her time in the Citadel. No matter the day, it was always the same people in the same places.

“Killed you!” Lucias’ voice rang out from somewhere ahead of them, breaking Clara’s attention on the guards above.

More clanging and general scuffling followed the declaration. She jerked her head around, searching for the source. The curved wall of a building stood not far from them. An archway led inside where two figures danced around each other, sunlight glinting off their weapons.

“And again,” Lucias announced to whomever he fought. “Honestly, this is the worst technique you’ve shown in years.

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