Elwanda

Chapter 13 - An Awkward Turn of Events

An entire day skipped by without Elwanda hearing a single word outside her prison door nor glimpsing the Steward anywhere.

As relieving as it was, her heart broke mostly because, in spite of her anger, she truly did like to see him every morning in his various expensive tailored outfits.

She sat by the window, thinking of how foolish a thing attraction was.

The weeping clouds cast a hazy darkness over the valley and draped the horizon with sorrowful gloom. It came as a surprise that the rainy season had begun. Her thoughts traveled to the festival, which she knew would be disrupted by the heavy downpour, and she wondered if the celebration for that day would be put off. In that case, her execution would also be postponed into the following day.

Over and over, she replayed her conversation with the Steward in her mind. Sudden regret over her outburst began to creep in, but she immediately shut off the thinking process.

She had absolutely every right to be angry.

Rauloring had made her what she was slowly becoming; they nudged her into embracing it, and she no longer wished to hide who she was.

Cold bit at the window, chiefly because of the tower's height, but thankfully, very little streamed into the room.

Elwanda sat nestled in the folds of the curtain, shielding her toes from icy wind. In the dead of night the previous night, she'd had a premonition and woke up with the knowledge of how to manipulate objects. To confirm the new ability, she had unshackled herself as quietly as possible.

When day broke, she sensed that no guards were about – for strange reasons – and freed herself for a while, though remained alert for any incoming soldiers.

In her new solace, her mind wandered back to Barrowley. The chances of seeing her family again before execution day was non-existent. She missed her sisters, especially Miri. It crossed her mind that should they meet, the eldest Osthall would not be very proud of her.

Nonetheless, Miri would certainly sympathize. Hers was the kindest soul Elwanda ever came across. The rest of the Osthall girls were kind by nature also and she missed each and every one differently and even dared to miss Anren, Gryf's first wife.

In a way, the Steward reminded her of Anren, but the latter had good days. The Steward never did.

Ingressing noises made Elwanda scurry away from the window. Someone was already turning the key in the lock when she used magic to make the metal chains levitate, their clasps opening to receive her. The moment they clicked back into position around her limbs, the door yawned open, and an unexpected visitor walked in.

Lord Haladar.

The man always seemed like someone on edge and stood without his heels touching the ground. His left hand was never not in a tight fist, and he smiled far too often, in a way that easily became irritating after a while.

"Ah, the unfortunate Osthall!" He exclaimed in curtsey then peered curiously at her. "Odd to see that you're not as miserable as you should be. The Steward was right about you being quite the outlandish kind."

She stared without a word, and the silence made Haladar fidget awkwardly.

"Well, err, you have been requested for at the Accord House right this second." He looked toward the open door and beckoned with his fingers. The two soldiers that usually stood at the entrance came in and began to unlock her chains.

"Where are you going to take me?" Elwanda asked, allowing herself be led away from the wall. She quickly noticed that the men's grip on her arms were gentle.