The Ward

Sorry this took a while. To wind up existing stories and make room for new ideas I'm skipping over the planned plot to hopefully wrap this up in a couple of chapters before it gets too complicated.

Hope you guys like this segment :)

****

After composing herself with an admirable effort, Sage managed to convey to a concerned maid that she was retiring for the evening, and that the Lord and his Steward had departed on a matter of urgent business.

The unsettling news made its way through the household, and servants began to inform guests that they were welcome to enjoy the Bard hospitality as long as they pleased, however their hosts would not be available to see them out.

It was apparent that some scandal or incident had occurred, and most guests took their leave over the next hour.

Nicholas and his mother had left the moment Edmund galloped from the premises, waiting in their fine carriage as the guests departed in an orderly fashion.

Mary sighed with boredom and raised a small magnifier to observe a stout old lady being assisted into an open carriage. "Iron wheels with

gold

spokes," she sneered with a roll of her eyes. "Only Lady Betsy would be so vulgar."

"Hm," Nicholas answered, restlessly cracking his knuckles and still mulling over Sage. The evening had been uniquely humiliating, without any physical gratification to appease his temper.

There was a lull in departures, and Mary finally lowered the scope and signalled their driver to circle back to the main entrance. She handed her son a soft package. "I believe most are gone. Be quick, Nicholas. If the Lord returns, we are completely undone."

"If that ancient lackey interferes again, I'll end him!" Nicholas snarled, smoothing his glittering coat and arrogantly tossing his head.

"So long as you do it quickly," Mary sweetly answered through her teeth.

Sage paced her quarters, praying for a peaceful resolution to all recent conflicts when the knocking began. Hurriedly wrapping a cream robe about herself, she opened the door.

"I...I am sorry my lady," the maid faltered, looking terrified. "But the Lord is absent, and Joel is...A-And...well...you..."

"In their absence, you are lady of the house," Nicholas announced, stepping into view.

Nicholas' smile would be handsome if his character was not utterly despicable. His impressive dress-coat brightened his pale-blue eyes that were warmly perusing the slight gap in the front of Sage's silk robe.

Sage's beautiful black hair was loose, tumbling down her shoulders in lovely soft waves. Flushed by recent upsets, the colour of her cheeks complimented her pretty face. The stormy petulance in her deep navy eyes immediately triggered Nicholas' lust.

The door shifted as Sage's fingers clenched around its edge, almost slamming it in the face of her enemy.

"Very wise," Nicholas smirked, lifting the package in one hand before directing a glare of contempt at the maid standing between him and the woman he desired. "Out of my sight, girl, or you will be sorry."

"Do not mind him," Sage said swiftly, forcing a reassuring smile despite being bitterly disappointed and incensed by the new arrival. "Please give us a moment, we shall not be long."

"No, we shall not," Nicholas reiterated in a tone that filled Sage with both dread and rage.

"Aye, my lady," the maid respectfully retreated, still looking worried. "The

manservants

are clearing the hall. You may call them, if needed."

"Thank you," Sage smiled. Once alone, the smile faded, and she bared her teeth. "What do you want, cur?"

"Be mindful of your tone, Sage," Nicholas cautioned, again lifting the package. "You will have cause to regret it later. My errand is quite pressing, and we have very little time."

"You may enter," Sage coldly moved back for him to step into her room. "But the door stays wide."

"As much as I would enjoy ravishing you in Edmund's home, I would prefer to take you in my own quarters," Nicholas said curtly, and held out his offering.

The package was the size of a large envelope, wrapped in soft brown paper with a gleaming red bow.

Not bothering with more words, Sage viciously snatched the parcel, tore the ribbon and peered into the packet. Discerning the contents, the anger left her face and she paled.

Sage's silent horror brought a big smile to Nicholas' face. He stepped close and gently took her trembling shoulders.

"You are going to leave with me, right now," he said softly. "Pack nothing; I will provide for you. If you dally, it will be worse for him, understand?"

"H-How-?" Sage faltered, so shocked she didn't even recoil from Nicholas' touch.

Mouth still ajar, she stared at Edmund's bloodied riding gloves, the notable Bard insignia, the golden threads tarnished with red. Edmund must have been intercepted and captured on his way to retrieve Joel.

"Come, Sage, I always get what I want," Nicholas' sneered, his cock achingly hard just from the defeat on her face. Given her recent rejections, it was a priceless moment he would retain to memory. "There is no time to spare, if you want him to live."

Her world suddenly in tatters, Sage squared her shoulders, determined not to cry. "And if I come with you? Then, what?"

Nicholas' pale eyes darkened. "Then he lives, Kitten. And you belong to me."

Sage shuddered, and finally jerked free of his grasp. Nicholas allowed her space, an evil smile curving his lips.

"You have given me cause to punish you," he quietly informed her. "But I will be kind. You may even enjoy it."

Sage almost retched, but there was a horrible pain through her chest. Edmund's life was at stake, and she was out of protectors.

"I...will leave with you," she swallowed convulsively, the taste of her words bitter. She would rather die than submit to Lord Stiles. But Edmund...

"Come." Nicholas strode to her cupboard and boldly surveyed her clothing, before selecting a thick, green travelling cloak and wrapping it about her.

Unable to look again at the package, Sage let it fall to the ground, feeling sick. The next few minutes passed in a blur, and before she knew it, Nicholas was escorting her to the staircase.

"My lady?"

They turned to find Simon and three kitchen lads waiting along the dark side of the wall.

"May we assist you?" Simon queried, staring challengingly at Nicholas.

"N-No, Simon, I thank you," Sage quickly answered, before Nicholas could retaliate. "I... There is an urgent matter that I... An unexpected... I will return," she hastily rambled. "Goodbye."

Simon looked between Nicholas and Sage; his face incredulous. "But the Lo-?"

"Know when you are dismissed, boy!" Nicholas growled, leading Sage away. They briskly descended the staircase and Nicholas swore with exasperation when Garrick barred their path.

"For heaven's sake, Garrick, we are in a hurry!" he snapped, casting an annoyed glance to the servants observing with silent disapproval from above.

"I'll not leave till I see Edmund. Where is he?" Garrick demanded, narrowing his eyes at Sage's stricken features. "What have you done, Stiles?"

"Garrick, please," Sage begged, her voice breaking with anxiety. "Please, I must go. I cannot delay."

"Sage, you surely cannot

want

to go anywhere with

him

?" Garrick exclaimed, looking as though she'd sprouted a second head.

"Yes, I do!" Sage insisted. "And I cannot delay!"

"Sage, you are not

eloping

, with...?" Garrick lost his voice with disbelief as he looked between them. His usual ruddy, good-natured expression was marred by shock and disgust.

"Spare us your homily," Nicholas cut in, roughly knocking Garrick's shoulder as he swept past, dragging Sage in his wake.

Mary drew a sigh of relief when Nicholas appeared with Sage in tow, and quickly opened the side door for their entry. Calling for the driver to proceed with haste, she watched Sage curl against the far side of the velvet seating, straining away from Nicholas, her face in her hands. Nicholas sat close, his hands twitching on his thighs but refraining from touching her with an effort. Noticing his mother's scrutiny, he grinned triumphantly. She returned it.

***

Joel shifted awake. He was alone, lying on a black settee in a gloomy library. There was a small fire in the hearth to adequately warm the room, but also a chill in the air that had little to do with temperature.

Remembering recent events, the old man abruptly sat up. At the other end of the room, he sighted Aleksis calmly writing by candlelight.

The younger man was still in ball attire, the silken undershirt and breaches, though had shed his grand blazer. Not a strand of blonde hair was out of place, his features striking even by gentler lighting. Those dark eyes, Joel recognised; black pools of demonic power.

"I trust you slept well?" Aleksis murmured, still writing, his deep voice cut clearly through the quiet.

Joel hesitated. "My Lord, would it be too much to ask-?"

"Why you are here?" Aleksis interrupted, dropping the quill to give Joel his full attention. "I borrowed you for more than one reason."

Joel swallowed uneasily. "'Borrowed' implies I will be returned."

Amused, Aleksis' features relaxed. "Of course. What else?"

Joel opened his mouth but offered no suggestions he wished to voice aloud.

Aleksis chuckled at his trepidation. "First and foremost, I wish to know how Edmund's parents passed."

Joel narrowed his eyes with confusion but endeavoured to answer. "There was a terrible accident. A fire. I raised Edmund in their stead."

"Do you believe it was an accident?"

Joel frowned at his palms. "It was so long ago, my Lord."

"That does not answer my question." Aleksis suddenly spoke from right beside Joel, who fell back on the settee with fright.

"I...My Lord-!"

"Tonight, you recognised me immediately." Aleksis' tone was deadly. "Do not play games. You know what I am."

"You were a nightmare I could not credit as a child. I've not laid eyes on you for decades," Joel countered, feeling recklessly cantankerous. "What brought you to Lord Edmund's ball?"

"Believe me, our scant introduction made matters most inconvenient," Aleksis retorted. "I attended tonight's ball for the girl, Sage. I am her Guardian. She is my Ward."

"That's impossible!" Joel shook his head. "Y-You...You're..."

"I adopted her," Aleksis said dryly. "And if you believe rearing a boy was trying, try rearing a girl in isolation."

"If it is true, you have done well," Joel acknowledged, recalling how quickly Sage won him over.

Aleksis' lip curled. "I know that. She belongs with me, not Edmund."

Joel tiredly shook his head. "So, I am collateral to be exchanged? Edmund will not barter for me, nor would I let him."

"Nothing so sinister," Aleksis rolled his eyes. "Now tell me, what happened to Edmund's parents?"

Joel turned wary. "It was not only Edmund's parents who perished in the fire."

"Oh?"

"Lord Henry Stiles, Nicholas' father, also died."

Though Aleksis grinned, his black eyes were very grim. "Would I be correct to say there was a meeting between the Bards, and Lord Stiles?"

Joel shook his head. "I cannot say, my Lord, it was so long ago. Lady Stiles was watching over Nicholas and Edmund playing in the gardens. They were only boys, and..." Joel broke off. "It was a terrible trial for Edmund."

"His parents were notably honourable. I am glad to see Edmund grew to such a strong character," Aleksis idly remarked, his thoughts elsewhere. "So, the three died together. And now she wants my Sage."

Joel was startled. "Sage? Why?"

Aleksis laughed. "Oh, Joel. For a wise old man who has seen many strange things, you are certainly a fool." He stood and crossed to a large, black cabinet. Turning, he balanced a small white globe in his palms.

"Here." Aleksis tossed the circular piece to Joel, who caught it on instinct.

Joel nervously cradled the strange item, its radiant glow illuminating his confused face. "W-What is this?"

Aleksis held out his own hands. "I will show you."

Joel passed it back, and Aleksis caught it. Suddenly, Joel beheld a fetching blonde lady in a glittering ball-gown, the dusky pink layers of her dress gleamed metallically, taking his breath away.

"Do you understand?" the lady tittered, twirling before Joel, who scrambled back with alarm.

"N-No!" he exclaimed. "W-What..."

The woman smirked and spun again. Joel beheld Aleksis.

"W-Witchcraft," Joel pointed accusingly. "T-That was...You...You...?"

Aleksis made a derisive sound. "Half of the cursed town is witch and does not know it. You, loyal steward, are not. But Sage certainly has magic in her blood, which is why she can use my tricks where you cannot."

Joel fearfully swallowed. "Sage? Sage is a

witch

?"

"It is more common than you think," Aleksis said curtly. "Witches were never purged by the Guard; they ceased to exist by their own design. Hundreds of years ago, it became too dangerous to be known for what we were. It was not a light decision." Pausing to consider a vase of white roses, he thoughtfully turned the ceramic piece to better display the arrangement.

"But for the love of their children, all abandoned their gifts. They chose mortal lives to protect their secret, so that their children, the future generations, would never know of their abilities nor be persecuted for them. But that is not the worst of it." He turned back to Joel, his mouth twisted to a humourless smile.

"There are always accidents. Those with witch-blood did, on rare occasion, unwittingly achieve compelling outcomes without understanding what they were doing."

Remembering how Sage effortlessly cured his ailing plant, Joel found himself nodding.

"But that was the point of forsaking the gift." Aleksis tapped a manicured nail to the glass table. "One cannot be tortured to reveal what they do not know."

Joel flinched, and Aleksis continued. "My homeland, the North, were more liberal-minded. I would never have settled here but for Sage. My dearest Sage carried no magic in her blood. After my accomplishment, I realised my oversight. She could not be revived. She was full mortal. She was perfect."

"But you said Sage is a witch?" Joel blinked.

Alekis discreetly turned his back, admiring the wall's intricate architecture. "I speak of my wife, from before. But the girl I raised is just as dear to me, and she is capable of transforming to what I am."

Joel fought to keep his composure. "Sage knows all of this?"

"No. Only the truth of how I came to raise her, no more."

"Why keep it secret?"

Aleksis shrugged. "Words spoken cannot be withdrawn. One cannot un-ring a bell. I've delayed the inevitable. I hoped for her to... I wanted..." he winced, gathering a confronting thought.

"I hoped she would develop a natural interest in me. She is of the age of romantic fancy. I wondered if we could make a family before I..." Aleksis shook his head. "But before I could seduce her, she was kidnapped by your Lord."

Joel concealed his feelings on the matter, moving on to a more pressing point. "You said you took me for more than one reason?"

"Yes," Aleksis smiled. "I want Edmund to know how easy it is for his life to change for the worse. I do not want to upset Sage by retaining you." Aleksis inspected a dull gold ring on his finger. "You shall be returned to the Bard manor before dawn."

"Why do you ask of Edmund's parents?" Joel asked. "Were they witch?"

"Possibly the father," Aleksis said distantly. "Edmund is mortal. If Sage is ever discovered, if they have a daughter to carry the bloodline, he cannot protect them from the Guard."

"Why does Lady Stiles want Sage?" Joel questioned.

Aleksis pursed his lips. "Witchblood."

"S-She wants to bleed Sage?" Joel gaped, half-rising from his seat before Aleksis signalled for him to settle.

"No. To continue the bloodline and likely the practices that benefit them. Witchblood is passed from the female," Aleksis slowly explained. "I gather that Nicholas' father was mortal and did not know what his wife was." His eyes narrowed. "I speculate that Lord Stiles went to consult his good friends, the Bards, about unsettling discoveries. I presume his wife did not take kindly to that betrayal."

"Lady Stiles? Mary?" Joel choked. "You suggest Lady Stiles murdered her husband and the Bards? She is not of kind temperament, but she has been an esteemed member of society since her debutante ball."

"Mary is a

very

mediocre witch, and she knows it," Aleksis shrugged, calmly plucking a gleaming crystal ornament from a side table. "Two witches yield witch, no matter the gender. The only alternative is if the woman is a witch and conceives a daughter to carry the bloodline. The Stiles have a fondness for the occult. They are traditionalists."

He sighed heavily, mulling over the town's aristocracy. "There are no discernible witches among society's elite, besides the Haburns, and they do not practice the old ways. I have cause to believe they are ignorant of their family history, and given the dire penalties that apply, I cannot blame their ancestors for concealing it."

"What can Sage offer, aside from her lineage?" Joel frowned.

"Knowledge," Aleksis laughed darkly. "I am sure Mary hopes to force my secrets from Sage, and if that happens, the Stiles would become very dangerous, enough to warrant the Guard's justice. And if Mary's son breeds with Sage and they have a daughter..." he replaced the ornament with a foreboding clack. "Perhaps for the very first time, a witch-hunt would be necessary."

"How could Lady Stiles know of Sage?"

"I cannot be certain," Aleksis said pensively. "Sage would play during daylight, unsupervised but always protected by magic. One of Mary's spies may have sighted her or witnessed some other strange incident. I cannot be sure of everything Sage gets up to while I sleep," he finished wryly. "But quite recently, prior to Edmund's interference, the Stile's boy embarked on a tenacious pursuit of Sage. I warned her to be extremely careful, but young women..." Aleksis shook his head with exasperation.

"Edmund told me about Sage," Joel croaked, overwhelmed. "He did not mention you, but he did share that Sage was taken as a child, from a carriage accident. Why not return her to her family as a babe?"

Aleksis looked defensively angry. "Because of her eyes. Because I wanted her. And if her mother was not in a such bad way, I would have taken her, too."

***

Sage kept her eyes closed, sensing the swirling toxic presence around her. She could feel Mary's predatory gaze burning her skin, and almost taste Nicholas' excitement in the air as the carriage drew alongside the Stiles' manor.

"Come, Kitten," Nicholas murmured, his fingers curled possessively over Sage's shoulder, knowing full well that she detested the pet name.

"Take your hand from me!" Sage snarled, opening her eyes to glare at the tall man by her side. Nicholas licked his lips and prepared to forcibly carry her.

"Leave her be, Nicholas," Mary said lightly, somehow seeming more dangerous to Sage than her son.

Sage angrily tightened her cloak and descended the carriage steps, refusing the assisting hand of the driver. She spun to face Nicholas, who had readily climbed after her, looming close as though expecting her to run.

A small line of servants waited to greet them, all dressed in sombre black. None reacted to Sage's temper. They stood stock still, eyes front; grim statues of servitude. Sage suspected if she fled, they would immediately subdue her. The arrival of a reluctant female was clearly not out of the ordinary.

"Where is Edmund?" she coldly demanded.

"Inside," Nicholas answered, smugly placing her hand in the crook of his arm as though leading her to a ball.

Sage grit her teeth and walked with him, hearing Mary's soft titter from behind.