Where Foundlings Hide

Chapter 22

A flicker of surprise registers briefly on the lieutenant's face.

"Do you two know each other?" Nicholas asks.

"We met last night, at the fence." I say.

"We owe you our gratitude," Roma says. "For your service at our Household."

He nods in Roma's direction, then his eyes fall back on me and my cheeks flush under his stare.

I'm forced to tear my eyes away from him, as Roma ushers me towards a tall woman with the same long, chestnut hair and golden tattoos as the woman from the market.

"Acacia, this is Meghan, leader of the Dryad's."

Meghan pulls me into a hug and I feel the heat of her body blazing through the thin, orange sheath she wears. "I have seen so much of you in the fire," she says. "It's like we are old friends."

My stomach twists as I imagine what Megan might've seen, but then she laughs good-naturedly, as if it was a joke.

I look at Caleb for confirmation. He smirks, and I see him nod ever so slightly.

"And this is Galen, Leader of the Haler Household." Roma gestures towards a white-robed figure with kind, angular eyes and a shaven head. Galen takes my hand in his and I feel the same warmth that I felt from Aimee and Alistair tingling in his fingertips.

"Princess Acacia," he clutches my hand against his chest and places his palm on my forehead. He closes his eyes, his brow creasing with concern. "I sense a great deal of anxiety in you."

I hold my breath waiting for Galen to say more, the intrigue of the rest of the group saturating the air around us.

"Being with your people will do you some good," Galen smiles. "Sadly, not even the Halers can mend a broken heart. It will take time."

The Haler leader releases me and I take a deep breath, rattled by his assessment. He makes his way inside and the group follow, all except Haydn who stands fixed to the spot, his dark eyes burning into mine.

Something stirs inside of me, like butterflies, but then Caleb takes me by the arm and steers me into the building. I glance back at Haydn. He follows with a moody expression, his eyes on Caleb's hand now resting on the small of my back.

Beyond the shaded veranda, a steep set of steps leads up into the grand palace. It is light and airy inside; the interior walls are smooth marble and there are more columns, ornately carved, standing stoically between the high vaulted ceiling and the black and white tiled floor. High, narrow windows filter in a delicate breeze and I bow my head to feel it on the back of my neck.

We pass through a room with a tall ceiling and a fountain set in the marble floor, tiny shoots of water dancing across the surface.

The next room is cast in shadows and lit only by tall braziers that stand in each corner.

Meghan shifts in behind me and I inhale sharply as she plunges a hand into the nearest fire. She turns, holding a tiny flame in the palm of her hand, then she raises it to her lips and blows. Instead of going out, the fire leaps out of her hand and streaks through the air, lighting the candelabras hanging from the ceiling.

I feel a rush of heat and I jump backwards, colliding with a solid figure behind me. Haydn. He looks down at me, his dark eyes shining in the candlelight, and I try to mumble an apology, but the words catch in my throat. He steps around me indifferently and takes a seat at the oval table in the middle of the room.

There is a service trolley by the door, laden with jugs of water and beakers. I rush over to it and pour a glass, before chugging it down greedily. I pour another and hold it to my forehead, savouring the coolness against my skin.