Chapter 7
Anora
Poached eggs were my least favorite food, though the crisp strips of bacon managed to redeem breakfast. I sat across the table from my brother and stepmother, three of her sons and my younger half-sister who, at the age of thirteen was already looking for a suitor. I endured Catherine's relentless ire on that topic, a means by which she elevated her daughter to a status above me in my father's eyes, but I knew William and I were solidly valued above all of her children. My mother was my father's one true love, and he'd taken Lady Catherine only as a means of pleasing the people.
I ate in quiet, though the raucous laughter of the younger boys a constant irritant. At twenty, I should have been settled into a home with a husband, bearing him children. Instead, I lingered in my father's house, suffering the youth of someone else's children. There was but one mercy in all of this, that because of my status of eldest in the kingdom, I was not required to care for the bastards. I sighed into my plate and stabbed my fork into the bacon, watching Catherine scold her oldest son for eating with his hands like an animal. Marisol snickered at her older brother and met my eyes with a glare. I knew she didn't like me; she didn't care for William either.
"I'm quite finished, Mother," Jessup said, standing.
"Be seated until you're excused. Thank you." I had to give her credit; Catherine was very good with her rowdy sons. And I didn't dislike her, but she often tried to play the part of my mother, which never got her far.
"I'll see myself out," I said, standing. "Do have a delicious breakfast." I winked at Marisol, certain it ruffled her feathers that I could come and go as I pleased and she was still a child in submission to authority. William stood and followed after me, hastening his steps to catch up.
"Where are you off to today?" He fell into step beside me as I exited the dining hall and turned toward my chamber. We walked along the eastern corridor where arched windows lined the hallway allowing sunlight to shine in and spotlight the banners of the kingdom.
"I am visiting the library. The plaith has come up empty handed where it concerns father's ailment, and I will search for an answer. I can't sit back idly and watch him suffer and die. If he were to have another stroke, it could mean the end." I lifted my skirts higher and stepped lively. Father's life was more important to me than anything now, because without him, William would rule the kingdom, and I knew it would not be good for those within this castle, nor would the people be pleased.
He grabbed my elbow and yanked me around so hard I almost lost my balance. My skirt swished out, swinging back into place as I righted myself and wrested my arm from his grip. "Why did you do that?"
"Father is dying and you'd rather run to the library instead of sitting at his side?" His glare seared through my skin. "His dying moments could be spent alone and you think that's okay?"
"I think--" I collected myself, taking a deep breath to calm my voice "--that if I can find a cure, he will not die. And thus, your moping by his bedside will have been pointless. He shall live, and moreover he shall be displeased that you have thought to give in to this sickness rather than fight against it." I turned and continued walking.
"I know about Isabel."
His word was a dagger in my back. I didn't react as he thought perhaps I would, but I did slow my pace, turning to stop and stare at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"
William advanced on me--glare in his eye, teeth gritted, jaw clenched. I noticed his hands were turned to fists and he hunched over like a madman. It was very uncomely, the way his royal robe crinkled around his shoulders and chest. The Grafburg crest nearly folded in half, the purple and blue kissing each other.
"I mean, there is quite the rumor going around." He straightened, and relaxed his face, taking on an accusatory look.
"What rumors are these?" My heart was racing, blood thrumming past my eardrums methodically. I had been careful; we had been careful. There was no way Isabel would out me. In doing so she would have damned herself to banishment or death, and she knew I'd only receive a chastisement the first time or perhaps reformatory school, exorcism, or purification rites.
"Don't play the fool, Anora Annalyse Ameross. You know well what I'm talking about. The sapphists have gotten to you both. Admit it."
I felt my blood boiling, the hint of it in my cheeks a means to give me away. I scowled at him, taking a step back. My reaction to this accusation would determine my future for certain.
"What proof have you? You know nothing. Rumors start all the time, like when the head cook travelled to Kilnshire market to purchase the chickens because the farmer in Grafburg suffered a loss and the people thought he was visiting a mistress." I dropped my skirt and folded my hands in front of myself, standing erect. I would not cower to his insulting attack.
"There are those who suspect Isabel of the crime against this kingdom, and I've seen you in your room and--"
I scoffed, laughing off his evidence. "As if you don't bathe with your chambermaids at times. Isabel is my lady in waiting. Without her help, how should I bathe myself? Do you not require assistance to do so? And what about the times you've been seen actively molesting your chambermaids?" I could see I was ruffling his feathers a bit. "Should I bring an accusation against you of impropriety? Should you therefore be put into the stockade because your hands greedily wander the curves of those who serve you?"
I scowled at him who had no response but a languid stare. My chest felt like an explosion were about to happen inside my ribcage, the pressure so intense my ears began to ring.
"I--"
"You have no proof." I cut him off, not allowing him to speak. One full year my junior, he still had to listen to me until such time my father died and he took the throne, at which point I would be in dire straits. "So I beg pardon, but I'm attending the library now. I have research to do."
I hiked my skirts and whipped around, marching down the corridor away from him. He stood there like a scolded child, watching after me. As I turned the corner to mount the stairs, I looked back at his glower. He wouldn't relent until he found me out, so it meant I had to be much more careful in my dealings with Isabel. I took the stairs two at a time until I was at my chamber door, where I stopped and caught my breath, a hand pressed against my chest. My heart still raced.
"Where are you off to?" Isabel's voice frightened me and made me jump. She had no clue of what I'd just endured on her behalf, but she owed me.
"I'm going to the library to do some research on the witch." I pushed past her into my chamber and sat at my vanity. The house slippers wouldn't do. I needed my boots. Isabel hovered over me, handing me one boot at a time while taking my slippers.
"You think that's a good idea?"
"I think my father is dying and if he wants to live, there is a chance. When I stood outside their door, I heard them talk about 'her' and I know they meant the witch. She is real, and she is out there. And I will find her, bring her here, and make her heal my father." I lashed the boots on my feet myself instead of waiting for Isabel who would normally do it for me.
As I rose, Isabel stood in my way. The door was open, and I was careful to navigate a path around her without touching her in case any eyes were watching. When I turned to say goodbye, her sullen eyes searched me, as if she were offended I had not greeted her physically.
"We will talk about this when I return, but you should be careful. One of your friends has accused you of being a sapphist." Isabel blanched. "And they have connected that to me somehow, which has brought an accusation against me via my brother's lips."
"Anora, I--"
"Are a charming young woman with a bright future, and whom I care for deeply. Let's talk about this later." I headed out the door into the damp corridor and down the stairs. Isabel and I would have to talk later, but right now I needed to get to the library and begin my research.
My guard stood near the back door of the kitchen, clearly unaware that I had even finished my morning constitutional. I strolled past him and he scurried to keep up with me as my leather boots clicked on the cobblestone. It was warm for Sturgeon Moon, but I knew Full Corn was coming and with it rains and the chill of the season change. I hastened across the courtyard to the old stone building that housed the library. Black streaks from rains and weather marked the sides of the building, and the door squeaked on its hinges.
"Stay here," I ordered the guard as I swung the door open.
The library was dim, lit by only a few candles. There were no windows on the first floor; I never understood why. The musty smell of old books and dust hung in the air. "Hello?" I called, ambling in past rows of shelves that held books and scrolls. If the witch was real, there would be information on her in these books somewhere; I just knew it. "Hello..."
I tiptoed down a narrow row, drawing my finger across the spine of a few books that drew my interest. Some of them were in foreign languages, but others' titles intrigued me. Father had a governess teach me to read and write. He said it was my mother's wish that I be educated. It wasn't exactly common to meet a woman who could read, so I cherished the ability.
Turning around the end of a shelf, I ran smack into a stand that held the bust of one of our previous kings. The bust wobbled on the stand, threatening to topple to the ground. I wrapped my arms around it and hugged it to my chest to stop it from falling, not realizing how heavy it was. I nearly fell over as someone behind me cleared their throat. I turned, bust still wrapped in my arms and saw the old man.
"Excuse me, Lady Anora, but that is not to be touched." His long grey beard hung down the center of his chest, cloak draped around his head so that only the tip of his nose and chin were visible. He took the bust from my arms as if it were nothing and set it back on the stand.
"I'm so sorry, sir." I dusted my hands along my gown but the guilty stain of near vandalism remained on my conscience.
