Avenge Me {Book 1}

Chapter One

I hated mornings. I could not recall a single moment in time where I was ever a morning person. Yet here I was, scraping back the bed linens and sucking in sharp breaths that felt like shards of glass scratching my windpipe as they went down.
Even breathing was difficult this early.

I made an attempt to recollect myself, sighing. The dreams I had been having of late hadn't made me any more eager to start my days. I could hear voices further down the hall following each other back and forth. Hurried words in hushed tones, then a few louder and sharper commands. I winced and my hands met my face with an even louder sigh.

Today was the day the Blue Coats came. This also meant that today was probably the last day I'd have to myself in a very, very long time.

A soft noise came from the foot of my bed, somewhere beyond all the sheets and items of clothing I had thrown aside. A smile played on my lips and in an instant, a black, warm mass leaped onto my lap loudly purring in response.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked the creature, hooking two fingers under her chin and drawing circles in her long, black fur.

A trill in response.

It was Nimble's way to convey her delight. I couldn't help but melt at the sight of my cat, three years old, hair long and messy like she was any other wild thing we had plucked from the woods surrounding Fairharbour. I kissed her temple and she nuzzled my cheek softly before hopping off the bed and slinking toward my bedroom door. A silent question. "When's breakfast?"

"You, my dear friend," I said as I got up from my bed with a grunt, "are ruled by your stomach."

There was another meow from her, followed by a scoff from myself. I walked over to the wardrobe, gasping as the cold floorboards met the soles of my bare feet. I pulled on the gilded handles and with an unamused creak, the wardrobe obliged.

If there was one thing I enjoyed about this life and the status I held, it was definitely the finery that came in the form of pressed dresses adorned with colourful lace and beads. And the food— Gods above, I loved the food!

Silently, as I began pulling on a thick sweater over my head, I thought of what might be served for dinner tonight. Perhaps Nimble wasn't the only creature here ruled by her stomach.
I slid my foot into the soft, supple leather of my old boots. There was time and place for opulence after all, and the conditions of Fairharbour's woodlands did not permit a lady, especially one of status, to wander through the foliage in her Sunday best.
So I slipped on my jacket of choice and weaved my way through the halls with Nimble at my heel.

Naturally, we made our first stop at the kitchens. Nimble was busy pestering the cook for a piece of raw sausage. Every morning, they would have the same conversation. The cook would tell her no, and eventually those big green eyes that sparkled like sea glass would melt him as they had once melted me. Nimble was brilliant when it came to psychological warfare. However, the kitchens were extremely busy today. People rushed in and out, some bringing trays upon trays of endless things in only to bring them back out moments later. I wasn't too concerned though.

I sat on a countertop, staring blankly at the apple I had just taken a large bite out of. I was waiting for someone, as per usual and he was late— as per usual. I had just about massacred the apple core, digging my fingernails into the flesh of it to peel out the seeds when I heard a voice.

"Shouldn't you be upstairs?" the ring was familiar, low and yet a little gentle.

I scoffed, "Good morning to you too, Caine."