“Stop!” I yelled while tugging on the horse’s reins, but it blatantly ignored me and continued on galloping into the thick forest. At first, we passed through the mining villages of the Cantergarre Mountains and I was eager to stop there and look around, but the horse refused to stop.
It went pass the villages and straight into the forest, and I was bombarded by thick, heavy branches that lay right in front of me. I had no way to avoid it, and I was hit in the face multiple times by those sharp branches.
“I said stop!” I screamed while pulling on the reins harder, and this proved to be a mistake on my part. The horse jerked spasmodically and threw me off its back before jubilantly galloping away. The stallion’s back was about six feet high, and being hurled off from that height surely hurt. I fell onto the hard, rocky forest floor with a thud, and for a moment I simply stared at the sky disorientedly, not realising what had just happened.
Not long after, I felt a shooting pain in my back and I was instantly dragged back into reality, but it was too late. The horse had disappeared from my sight, and I was alone in the forest, no warmth, no food and no water. The stallion was galloping so fast earlier that I could not recognise the path that we took, and all the directions around me looked exactly the same. On my right was a large dead tree overgrown by mushrooms, and on my left was an equally dead tree covered in moss. Never in my life had I been in such a situation before, and my hands began to tremble with fear and panic.
What if I would never find my way out, and I would rot and die in here? What would become of my husband? What about my father?
I gritted my teeth to quell my urge to scream, and I decided to slap myself across the face, hard. The slap was hot and drew tears in my eyes, but it chased my fears away, and for once I could think clearly.
From afar, I could hear the sound of a river’s trickling water, and I decided to go there and walk upstream. However, as soon as I stood up, pain jolted in my right calf, and I immediately gathered up my skirt only to see my white stocking now soaked red in blood. When I fell down earlier, I fell on my right side, and my right leg had been smashed against a sharp, jagged rock, causing a large gash to form. I pulled the bloodstained stocking away, and underneath, I saw my awfully bruised skin, and I could see the whites of my bones inside the gash.
There was no time to cry though, and I tore off a section of my cloak using my teeth and bound it around the gash tightly and forced myself to stand up. Here, nighttime came swifter than it did in the south, and the sky above me had become grey. I made haste for the river, hoping that I could find a village nearby before nightfall.
The gushing of the water grew even louder, and I was eager to ease my parched throat. Bursting through the trees, I finally could see the vast blue river, flowing lazily underneath the foliage.
I stuck my hands in the water, which was freezing cold. Cupping my hands together, I brought the water close to my lips and I gulped it down thirstily. The water was crystal clear, and the taste was cold and crisp. I then washed my face and arms, which had been soiled earlier, and as I bent down, I heard the sound of someone humming softly.
“My love has gone, not to return. The death knell has been tolled. My dear, I pray, may peace be given to your soul.
Your blood has been spilled, but not gone to waste. Your glory and grace remain on and on. I pray for peace and mercy on your soul. May there be peace for your soul.”
I looked up warily, and right in front of my eyes were delicate little candles placed on lotus leaves, floating blissfully above the water. Confused, I glanced to my right, which was the direction where the river flowed from.
Upstream, I saw a beautiful woman kneeling next to the river, gently placing the lotus leaves onto the water and making sure that they floated before placing candles the size of one’s thumb on it. The flames shone eye-catchingly on that dim evening, and I counted eleven candles in total, each floating calmly in the river. Once she was done, she bowed down lowly, chanting fast incantations in a low voice.
Her body swayed along with her chants, and her eyes were wide open, glaring at the open sky. Witnessing her odd behaviour, I began to suspect that this woman was a witch who happened to be performing a ritual by the river. She had placed the eleven candles in the water, but she has yet to present her sacrifice! Fear immediately ran through my body like harsh waves, and I slowly tried to inch away before she could see me.
“Where are you going?”
I stiffened upon hearing that voice breaking the terrible silence, and cold sweat began to run down my back. The woman sat up with her back straight and faced me with a smile. For a moment, I was completely stunned by her unearthly beauty. Her eyes were large and pale green in colour, and they seemed to shine in the dark, like a cat’s eye. Her skin was a golden hue, contrasting beautifully with her vivid red hair that framed her heart shaped face.
This woman was truly beautiful, even more than dead Queen Helene! I gaped in awe, but realising that I have been tricked by her spells, I immediately lowered my gaze and refused to look at her.
“Girl, what happened to you?” I heard her say, her voice soft and motherly, and merely hearing her voice made me feel somewhat comforted. She set her things aside and stood up, slowly making her way towards me.
“D-don’t come near me!” I barked out pathetically, cursing myself for stuttering like an idiot.
Her smile grew wider, and she brought her hand close to her full red lips to stifle a giggle. “You don’t want me to help you? With a leg like that, you will be torn apart by wolves in a heartbeat.”
“There are wolves here?”
She laughed even louder, as if ridiculing me for even asking that. “Of course there are! The forests near Cantergarre Mountains are infested with wolves. How come you don’t know?”
“I’m not from this place,” I said meekly.
“I could tell from your accent, girl. That southern lilt you have is as strong as it gets,” she spoke while scrutinising me to her heart’s content.
“Wait,” she suddenly said. “Your eyes are violet. Are you a Winterbourne?”
At first, I thought it was odd that she would know about my family, but my father’s influence did spread throughout the globe, so her reaction was not too far-fetched.
“Yes,” I told her simply, and her eyes flew wide in both shock and glee. She immediately came to me and grasped my hand, saying “Then you must be Cassian’s daughter, right? Come, let me treat your wounds.”
I had every reason to doubt her, but she dared to refer my father by his given name, so I knew that this woman was no ordinary person. There was a lantern full of fireflies at the spot she sat at earlier, and once she settled me down, she reached for her satchel and brought out a stale loaf of bread and placed it in my hand.
“First, you must eat,” she said while retrieving a small glass jar from the satchel. I nodded gratefully and began to nibble on the bread while she examined the gash on my leg.
“You must be Anne, aren’t I right? I recall that Lisbeth had grey eyes, like your mother, Belle Moreau,” she said in a cheerful tone, but her face soured when she spoke my mother’s name.
“Who are you exactly? And how do you know my parents?” I asked her in confusion. No one in Phoenicia would dare to call the Earl of Rhyland simply by ‘Cassian’, not even the King.
“My husband was your father’s best friend,” she said in a low tone, but her smile still remained on her lips. “You probably do not know of him. He died when you were a little babe. But before he passed, we did consider betrothing you to our son,” she laughed, but her eyes were sullen.
“I am already married,” I said to her, and disappointment flashed upon her face once more. She looked down at the jar in her hand and focused on applying the salve onto my wound.
“I wonder who managed to win your hand in marriage? Your father surely would not settle for any title less than a Marquis,” she chuckled darkly.
“I am married to the Duke of Cindertrappe, the King’s nephew,” I told her. The hand that was applying the salve abruptly froze, and she looked up at me with wide eyes.
“The King’s nephew?” she repeated in disbelief. “He has no nephew!”
“There is one!” I said defensively. “The late Crown Prince’s son, Edmund de Chauvelot.”
The jar in her hand slipped away and fell onto the ground beneath us, but she did not seem to notice. She turned away from me and went completely silent, but I could see tear droplets falling onto the dried leaves in front of her. I had no idea why she reacted in such a way, but I allowed her to do what she wanted.
Eventually, she turned around to face me, and said, “Come, I’ll bring you to the main road. I don’t know how you’ve gotten here, but I am certain that your husband must be looking for you.”
She hoisted me up with ease and led me out of the forest. Once we reached the main road, she looked around anxiously before unclasping the necklace around her neck and placing it on my palm. “I need you to give this to the Duke, Anne. And if you need to find me, I will be at Elheim Castle. I must go now, so be safe.”
She thrusted the firefly lantern into my hand before rushing back into the forest, leaving me in complete silence. It was dusk already, and the only source of light I had was the lantern. Although there was no one in sight, I am grateful that she led me back to the main road, albeit her odd behaviour. My leg still hurt, but the salve that was applied earlier alleviated the pain greatly, and I could walk with a little more ease.
It was a windy night, and underneath my cloak, I was shivering. I then decided to hug the firefly lantern so that I could get a little more warmth, although it barely improved anything. As I walked on that long, seemingly endless road that night, I began to miss Edmund intensely. I missed his warmth and protection, and without him, I felt so cold and vulnerable.
Tears began to form in my eyes as I trudged on, and although the gash in my leg hurt significantly less, every other part of my body was screaming in pain. I was tired, thirsty and hungry, and I was cold. So, so cold.
After two hours of aimlessly walking in the cold, I finally heard the sound of a few horse riders approaching. I prayed that they were good men and not bandits, and I lifted my hood to go and approach them.
As I did, I heard exclaims of shock and relief, and I realised that these men were soldiers from my own household.
“Your Grace! The Duchess has been found!” the men echoed, and some dismounted their horses to offer me some water and bread.
I politely declined, as I was too fatigued to swallow anything, and I was so exhausted that I could barely think straight. The sound of a horse’s loud hooves entered my hearing, but I did not care anymore. I would be taken home soon. Perhaps it is time for me to rest.
“Annie!” I heard a familiar voice cry out, and in an instant, I was bombarded by warmth. His strong arms wrapped around me tightly like a soft cocoon, and I felt so safe, so secure. I blinked my eyes open and saw my husband’s disheveled face. His usual clean-shaven face was covered with stubble, and dark circles had formed under his eyes from lack of sleep.
Those lovely pale green eyes of his were on me, and I saw so much relief and adoration in them, and all of a sudden, the pain, the frustration and the yearning I felt throughout the day crashed down on me all at once, and tears began to roll down my cheeks freely.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured in between sobs. “I’m so sorry, Edmund. I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”
I felt myself being pulled into another embrace, and Edmund placed his hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair softly.
“Why are you apologising, Anne? You did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head rapidly as my tears grew heavier, and I felt my chest become full of guilt. “No! I was selfish and I only thought about myself—”
My words came to an abrupt halt as I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, as if I had been stabbed with a knife. I thought that it was nothing at first, as these pains were normal during my time of the month, but this time, it did not stop. The pain persisted, becoming more and more unbearable with each time that it struck. I doubled over on the ground, my hands clutching around my stomach helplessly.
“Anne, tell me what’s wrong!” Edmund urged as he knelt beside me, holding both sides of my shoulders tightly.
“It hurts,” I choked out, my voice strained from the extreme pain that I felt. Sweat dribbled down my forehead, and I felt a warm liquid flow down between my legs. I was confused by this, but then I saw the expression on Edmund’s face, shocked and full of horror.
I looked down, and all I saw was red.
Hi! If you liked this story, try checking out my other story, which is set in the early 1700s, Catarina and The Prince ! And please vote and comment, it means a lot to me 🥰