The Kindreds, Volume 1

The Second, Pt. 4

My birthmarks? How?

Her face instantly flashed with heat and anxiety poked needles into her forehead and palms, which were already growing sweaty. Gabe immediately turned to scour the street for any observers as she threw up the hood of her cloak. She touched the corners of her eyes as though she could feel the marks there. Of course she couldn't.

Each morning she covered the birthmarks by her eyes with layers of skin-toned powder. Her father had spent pounds upon pounds of silver (even she knew that was a lot) working directly with the finest apothecaries in the kingdom to craft a powder that would stick to her skin and remain in place throughout the day. The apothecary was told only that it was to cover a pale birthmark, and the money answered any further questions. The final product was Sada's present for her eighth name day, along with a command to apply it every morning until the marks faded, whether she left the manor or not.

But they never went away.

Nobody, not even the servants, were permitted to see the marks. Her father had covered them himself through other means in her early childhood to ensure that none of the household staff would know of her imperfection. Even the midwife who'd delivered her had been paid to leave the city and kingdom out of her father's fear that word of his daughter's disfigurement would reach any other ears. And if those strange, perfectly circular white dots on the inner corners of her eyes were ever seen by Duke Solares, it was his rage she had to answer to.

The powder had never failed before, and the panic in her chest made it feel as though she were suffocating in it. The familiar feeling of breath evading her set in as her lungs seized then clenched, trapping the air inside and not allowing any fresh breaths in. Pressing her thumb into her wrist, she counted three of her rapid heartbeats

(1, 2, 3)

then she was able to draw in a shuddering breath.

"Did anybody see?" Sada whispered when she could speak again. She could barely hear herself over the pounding of her blood.

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, nobody is on the street, and all the windows are dark and drawn. We've left the occupied part of town. We passed the last person minutes ago." Gabriel stooped to check on her, touching her cheek. "That's never happened before," he said as though she didn't know.

"No." Her voice was hardly a whisper. Fear held it captive.

"I haven't even seen them, not since that first time."

Gabriel only knew of their existence through an accidental discovery. He had almost lost his title as knight and his position in the household guard over it. She bit her lip, the memory only worsening the weight in her stomach and the tightness in her throat.

"I didn't have the powder then," she said, and then refused to speak of it further. She didn't know what it meant that her powder had failed for the first time in over a decade of use. She hoped it was a fluke, but she didn't want to think about what that meant if it wasn't. Or of what her father might do either way. She would need to apply many layers of it before Duke Solares returned.

Sada urged Gabriel to continue down the brown cobblestone path with her.

"I don't believe that to be a sound idea, my lady. We'd best return to the manor so you may reapply your powder."

Sada shook her head. "Please Gabe, I don't want to go back yet. The hood will hide my face. See?"

She couldn't see his face from beneath the overhanging of her hood, but she watched as he crossed his arms over his green-trimmed chest plate. Finally he relented, taking her arm once more. Sada could not help but chew on her lip as they walked—it was yet another thing for her father to reprimand her on, but if she did not feel the pain and taste the blood, she feared her nerves would drive her to insanity. Even working away at her lip, the thoughts of her disfigurements would not leave her alone. She needed to talk, lest her own mind lead her to the brink of madness.