The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 5-Luke

 Zena could hear her heart pounding with apprehension and wondered if he could hear it too. She hesitated for a moment, thinking up a response.

"I....I...lost my father in the war," she said, praying that he wouldn't ask for the details.

Luke could see the shadow of grief in her eyes and decided to pursue the finer details at a later date. He nodded, studying her face.

"So, you're a soldier's daughter," he commented. He would take that at face value for the time being, though there was something about her which did not quite fit.

"Yes," she whispered.

He rose then, casting a glance at her. It was an hour before dawn.

"You rest some more. Ring the bell if you need something," he said, walking out of the room and closing the door after him.

Zena lay down again, relieved that he hadn't asked any more questions. She looked around the room then. It was furnished luxuriously, with velvet drapes, and expensive furniture. It was far more luxurious than the one they had had in the town.

The man, Luke, must be the lord of Blackwood Manor, she guessed. That made him one of the nobility. Maybe, just maybe, he could help her get an audience with the Prince. But she couldn't ask him till she was totally sure of him. She could not risk being handed over to the authorities.

At least, for now, she had a roof over her head and a warm meal in her belly, and she should thank the Lord for that. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep.

The next time she woke up, pale sunlight was streaming in through the window. The fire which had been lit in the fireplace the previous night, was by now reduced to ashes. Zena sat up in the bed, feeling the chill in the room. She was thinking of getting up when there was a knock on the door.

A maid walked in with a tray in her hand.

"You're up, Miss. Here's your breakfast," she said, placing the tray on the bed.

"Thank you," she wished the maid. "What's your name?"

"Peggy," the young girl said. She seemed at the most seventeen, with ruddy cheeks, a plump face, and a ready smile.

Zena breathed in the appetizing aroma of bread and eggs, with tomatoes and mushrooms and curls of butter and an apricot preserve. There was a jug of milk and a pot of tea, too. It was a lavish spread by all standards. The lord of Blackwood Manor must be quite wealthy, she thought with a smile.

The maid noticed that the fire had died.

"I'll send someone to light it, Miss," she said, turning to go.

"Wait!" Zena called. She needed a change of clothes. The bundle with her possessions was nowhere to be seen. Luke did say that she could ask for anything.

"I'll see what I can do," Peggy promised before leaving, but soon returning with a long woolen dress and a petticoat, the type she had seen girls wear in the village.

The fire was lit and a basin of hot water was brought for her to finish her ablutions. Once she was dressed in warm clothes and had done her hair, Peggy inspected her with approval.

"Himself has summoned you in the study," she let her know.

For a moment, Zena felt like making an excuse but then decided against it. She had to face him sometime. Answer more questions, too, in all likelihood. Maybe, it was for the best. She could ask for his help if she was fortunate.

Peggy showed her the way to the study. She would never have found it by herself. The manor house was too vast with various turns and passageways. It must have a large number of rooms, she mused, more than any she had seen before, although she had only visited a couple of them on their sojourns in the country.

Gingerly, she knocked on the study door.

"Enter," a deep voice boomed from inside.

She opened the door and stepped in. He was sitting behind an ornately carved mahogany desk. He gave her a look from head to foot, interest in his gaze, but scowled as he saw the peasant-style dress she was wearing.

"Couldn't they find you something better?" he frowned.

Zena shrugged. She was grateful for even this.

He waved her to take a seat, and she sank down on the nearest straight-backed chair.

"So, where were you going last night?" he asked, without giving her the opportunity to relax.

"Nowhere in particular. I have no home now, so any place is good enough," she replied, watching her tightly clasped hands on her lap.

He observed her through narrowed eyes for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. Fiddling with a silver letter opener, he looked her straight in the eye.

"I could give you a position in my household. Do you promise to be loyal to me?" There was a strange undertone to that question as if it meant something more than the words.

Zena watched him for a minute. He was not only handsome but emanated an aura of command unlike any she had seen in the men of her father's acquaintance. It was clear that he was used to exercising great power. If she could win his trust, there would be no safer place for her than Blackwood Manor. No soldier would dare search his home without an express order from the Prince.

"I would be grateful for it, my lord. I swear my loyalty to you," she said, her heart pounding with excitement. When she had escaped from the city, she had never envisaged that she would find such an opportunity, so soon. It was a stroke of good luck which had brought her to Blackwood Forest that night.

"Most of the time I live in St. Helene, but sometimes I live here, or in one of my other residences," he let her know.

St. Helene was the capital city of Zorbia and the one where she had spent most of her life. He must have an important position in the royal court if he lived there.

Luke got up then, walking up to a drinks cabinet, and poured two glasses, handing one to her. He then went to stand by the window, watching the vast grounds which spread every which way one looked. He beckoned to her, and she joined him.

He pointed to the dogs out on the grounds. There were three of them, roaming the grounds playfully.

"Do you see them?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to understand the import of his words.

"I feed them myself every day, but if they dare to bark at me, I shoot them with my very hands."

Zena felt a shiver of fear pass through her. She now understood what he meant. It was a warning for her. She could only hope and pray that he would never find out her true identity. But for how long could she keep her secret?