Heir of Scars I: Parts 1-8 by Jacob Falling

Author:Jacob Falling [Falling, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Violet West Entertainment
Published: 2016-06-02T23:00:00+00:00

Adria started at a noise, and her head turned to fix on the motion as she rose half out of the water. The maid also startled, nearly dropping Adria’s leathers back onto the dressing table. Adria regained her sense quickly, realizing she had fallen asleep.

“Nu be Chahi...” Adria called, a little sharply, her Aesidhe more ready than her Aeman. The tone communicated the meaning well enough, and the girl dropped Adria’s clothing, even as Adria softened her voice and corrected herself, “Leave them... please.”

Not drowning… Adria’s mind cleared quickly. My chambers… Windberth.

She offered the girl a smile in thanks, and the maid curtsied, low.

“Your pardon, Royal Highness,” the girl said. “I was only intending to have them cleaned while you enjoyed your bath… and perhaps a nap.”

The words were formal, but the tone held a hint of amusement, almost mockery. Adria took better notice of the girl, then, and consented. “Fine, then, and I thank you…. I am sorry, but I have not asked your name.”

Even as she asked it, Adria knew.

The girl introduced herself all the more lavishly, smiling and curtsying even lower this time. “My name is Twyla, Ma’am. I am duly pleased that you should ask, and am overjoyed to make your acquaintance.” She remained low, head bowed, until Adria splashed her with water from the bath.

“Twyla...” Adria laughed. “I am so sorry, I did not recognize you, but you were... well, are...” She shook her head in wonder at Twyla’s appearance.

“It has been three years, Ma’am,” Twyla smiled. “And certainly significant ones in the life of a young woman. You have changed not a little yourself, if I may say.”

Adria realized she had exposed more of her body than she might have intended. She lowered herself back in the tub, but without the haste of embarrassment, which had faded during her time with the Aesidhe. Which customs shall I forget, and which shall I remember?

Twyla nodded, turning to the wardrobe to retrieve Adria’s bathing gown, placing it in arm’s reach.

“I am so weary, I did not think of it,” Adria half-apologized. “Oh, Twyla…. How wonderful you are here. Hurry and take my things to the laundress while I finish my bath, and then we can talk beside the fire, for the first time as adults.”

Twyla smiled. “Yes, of course, Royal…”

“And one more ‘Highness’ out of your mouth and I shall dismiss you at once and have you flogged for excessive formality.”

Though they had always maintained the ritual graces in public, such pretenses had mostly been forgotten when they were alone. Twyla had always served Adria, but they had been as much like sisters as could be managed. They had both been scolded, more than once, when Adria had let the girl into her bed on the coldest nights, when no amount of mantles could fight the chill of the maid’s floor pallet.

Twyla feigned fright at Adria’s threat. “Oh… yes, Royal Highness. At once, Royal Highness. Think no more of it, Ma’am.” And she disappeared around the bathing screen before Adria could splash her again.

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