Visions (The Daevas #2)

13 | Shiver

January 28, 1521

Sussex, England

If I had the skill of Blink like Anne, I swear, I would have been in Brightam at this moment. Alas, I do not. I sniffle as I begin to cry again. I do not know what will ever happen to me now, now that my own husband has betrayed me. Even my own sister.

How can they do this to me? What have I done to deserve such a horrid thing? Just thinking about what they did raises awful bile in my throat.

Instantly, I stop my horse, grabbing a thick mane of gray tightly, then the horse whinnies and stops into a halt. I go down and hurl the contains of my stomach on the grassy area of an unknown field in Sussex. I cough and wipe away the remaining bile on my mouth with the back of my hand. I have no gloves, no proper clothes, and no proper shoes. All I care about is getting away from Dover Castle and never come back. I should live with my parents, see my beloved father and mother. Or maybe plead my parents to go back to Venice or be with my grandparents for a while in Spain. All I want is to leave. I cannot -- do not -- want to come back again there in that dreadful castle. Once, it was heaven and my happiness, but now 'tis hell for me.

Sobbing, I pick up my skirts, place a shoe on a tree trunk, and huddle myself atop the destrier. His name is Silver, and I clutch him like I may never let go. I tighten my borrowed dirty coat around my shoulders and kick my horse to full speed again. I cannot waste time. Even if I am hours away, I just want to get out as fast as I can, away from the boundaries, the whole lot of my husband's large estate.

Two hours have passed and Silver is tired, as am I. We both need rest terribly. I peer around the road and see an inn a few yards away. I click my heels on Silver's sides and he goes into a canter, knowing full well what I am about to do. As we reach the inn, I go around the stables and give my horse to a groom, looking at me from cock-a-pie like I am some delectable meal. I instantly turn my gaze away and order him to take care of Silver.

"Oh aye, miss, I will," he says, grinning.

I quickly turn around and head inside the small inn. There in the first floor are people who look neither kind nor friendly. As I enter the place, all of them stop what they are doing, and they look at me up and down. I know I appear dreadful, but can they not look at me so oddly like I am some kind of woman in exile? I grit my teeth and walk to the front desk. I place my hand on it, but I feel the griminess of the wood, and take my hands off as soon as I touch it. The innkeeper looks amused but he just stares at me with a smile on his face.

"I would like a room," I say in a rough voice from all the sobbing.

"Gladly, m'lady," he agrees, giving me a do-over.

I glare at him.

"Just for the night."

He nods, handing me a silver rusty key, never leaving his eyes off me. I can feel the other people staring behind me. I cannot bear this, but I remain cool. I take the key, his hands brushing mine. He grins; I flinch. "Would ye like a bath, miss? I could bring the little 'un to care of your needs."

"I would like that, thank you," I say.

"Room seven," he inquires, going back to shuffling papers on his grimy old desk. I nod and look at the people, seeing them all averting their gazes from me, going back to gambling or drinking ale and old bread. I ascend the rickety stairs and walk around a hall, finding my room. There are two youths of about eighteen, coming out from their room with a whore behind them. They are grabbing her buttocks and squeezing them like she is nothing but a woman used for pleasure, and she looks at me with pleading eyes. I stare at her soft blue ones, and I see that she is pretty. She is about fourteen years of age, and I feel instant pity for her. Her black hair is in disarray and her eyes are red and her lips are swollen. I can imagine what these two idiots made her do.