House of Bastiion (The Haidren Legacy, Book 1) by K.L. Kolarich

Author:K.L. Kolarich [Kolarich, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rogue Kite Publishing
Published: 2021-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

Luscia

Luscia fidgeted with the scarf, careful not to disturb the fine layer of cacao paste darkening her hairline and thick brows. She wrapped her hair tightly in the silky material, as Unitarian women of the lower classes often did with their own. Tucking the loose blonde strands underneath, she arranged the tail of the scarf so that it cascaded over the scar tissue carved into the left side of her neck.

“Depths, aren’t you finished yet?” her escort demanded for the second time.

“Disguising me as a cross-caste scullery maid was your idea, Lord Darakai,” Luscia bit out, picking up the dress she’d borrowed from Mila and eyeing it apprehensively. “Shtàka,” she swore. “As you frequently remind me, I’m to follow your lead without complaint.”

To avoid suspicion, they’d waited three nights since finding the corpse. She tried not to dwell on that evening, though the waiting provided ample opportunity to do so. The more Luscia pondered the series of bizarre events, the more unsettled she became. It wasn’t the first occasion she’d felt eyes on her back during a hunt through Bastiion, but it was the first night she’d heard the whispers, and the only since. The trail of voices had hummed indecipherable secrets and teased her into that alley, departing once she entered it.

Luscia’s mother had heard voices, too. They’d made Eoine laugh, and cry.

Still, the whispers weren’t the most troubling incident that night. It was for Boreal’s Haidrens to choose when to use their gift of Sight. But the Sight, of its own accord, had summoned Luscia to seek behind the veil and into the Other. While in its captivity, that otherness had revealed a cloud of fractured lumin about the corpse. Those threads had shuddered away from the defiled flesh and pooled around Luscia instead, like they were fleeing something dark indeed.

Fiddling with the stitching of the borrowed garment, Luscia suppressed an itch of alarm creeping down her spine. The benefit of Kasim’s delay was that it had allowed Luscia time to procure the items needed for her transformation, although neither she nor Mila had accounted for their variance in size. Imitating the majority of women at court, Mila had the appetite of a sparrow, the evidence of which was painfully obvious as Luscia stepped into the slim clothing. The attendant’s taut, linen dress cinched tightly at her waist, causing Luscia’s breasts to practically spill out over top.

“This is why we don’t starve ourselves like the yancy women, Mila,” Luscia grumbled, shoving her biceps through the narrow sleeves.

“What are you going on about?”

Squatting, Luscia stashed her far more practical gear under a stray wooden pallet and stepped around the corner in the vacant alley, praying the likes of Zaethan Kasim would not notice how her bodice quite literally busted at the seams.

By the way his bright eyes flicked up and lingered where they didn’t belong, he most certainly did.

“Finally.” He coughed, clearing his throat, and stomped away.

Wrapping her arms around her torso, Luscia gingerly followed.

In awkward silence, Luscia trailed him through the dancing streetlights of Marketown’s busy district.

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