Though I pulled hard at Captain Strykar’s shoulder, he didn’t budge at all but thankfully stopped moving his hand towards the dagger. His fingers were bare centimetres from the black tendrils swaying over the blade.

“Don’t touch it with your bare hand,” I warned, shifting so I could nudge the dagger away with the toe of my boot.

The Captain straightened, levelling an inscrutable gaze at me. “Why?” he asked flatly, eyebrows lowering slightly. “What’s wrong with it?”

I hesitated, words catching in my throat. I didn’t know anything about the dagger, other than it belonging to a Tarnished and exuding the same smoke I’d seen come from demons. My gut was screaming at me that neither of us should touch it with bare skin. It was sure to sound suspicious if I were to make an unfounded claim, wasn’t it?

I crouched in front of the dagger, making sure the Captain could still see it.

“Watch,” I told him, holding my hand out over it. The black smokey tendrils again sprang up from the blade, seeming to react to my presence and reach towards me. I was careful to keep my hand out of the smoke’s reach.

“Something in this dagger reacts to us whenever we’re close to it. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t believe we should test it here,” I explained, retracting my hand. I paused for a second, wiping my sweaty palms along my legs as a thought sprang up in my mind. “Also.. I don’t think it reacted like this when the Tarnished were holding it. It’s just a theory, but I think it only reacts to magus.”

Captain Strykar was staring at the dagger, frowning heavily with his arms crossed over his chest. One finger tapped quickly against his arm. As I stood, he exhaled sharply and raked his hand through his hair.

“Alright, we should find something to wrap it..”

His sentence was cut short at the sound of a commotion at the entrance of the alley. Greg the wolf came bounding towards us, making deep grumbling sounds that almost sounded happy as he did/ He was closely followed by the Duke and a couple of men wearing the uniform of the city guard.

That was quick.

“William! Are you alright? Are you injured?” The Duke sounded slightly panicked as he ran towards Captain Strykar, grabbing his shoulders and looking him over for injuries. His reaction reminded me of young mothers when their toddler skinned a knee. It was clear the Duke cared for his son, and I absently wondered if all noble parents were as doting.

While the Captain reassured the Duke that he was in one piece and explained what happened, I fished another blackberry seed from my pouch. I had the vine sprout and wrap around the dagger tightly, overlapping itself over and over until all of the blade and handle was completely covered in the vine. Once that was done, I gingerly lifted the bundle, watching carefully for any signs of the black smoke and breathing a small sigh of relief when none appeared.

Captain Strykar was just finishing the explanation when I approached with the dagger. The Duke glanced over at me, seeming to give me an appraising look before his eyes settled on the bundle of vines I held.

“Is that the dagger?” he asked, holding out a hand towards me. “You said it…reacted to you?”

I carefully placed the dagger into the Duke’s outstretched hand as the Captain nodded.

“Yes, whenever my or Rowan’s hand went near it, strange black smoke would appear around the blade. The Tarnished seemed to be able to wield it without issue, and Rowan theorised that it only reacts to a magus.”

The Duke was frowning, fingers tapping against the wrapped dagger for a moment. I suppressed the urge to fidget nervously.

Why do nobles take so damn long to say anything?

“Alright, this will need some investigation,” he finally said. He tapped a ring he was wearing on his left hand that was set with a glossy blue stone, then pressed it against the vine covered dagger. Both the stone and the dagger glowed with a shimmering blue light, then the dagger winked out of existence and the glow around the stone faded.

Fuck, that’s a storage stone.

A storage stone was imbued with spacial magic to create an invisible storage space that could be accessed anywhere, so long as you had the stone with you. Even a small one was insanely expensive, with the most valuable ones being able to store the equivalent of a small city’s worth of item.s

“You two get on out of here,” the Duke said, dusting off his hands. “I’ll sort out this mess and get the live one locked up. With some luck, we’ll get some answers out of him.” He looked at me and gave me a nod. “And you best get that neck looked at, Miss Rowan. Our doctor at the mansion will take care of you.”

With that, we were dismissed. Captain Strykar and Greg led the way out of the dingy alley as I trailed behind. I didn’t notice anyone lurking on the steps or in the shadows like they had been earlier. They’d likely been frightened off by the city guard that had run through just before.

We walked in silence until we came back to the main road. People were still busting about, the noisy chatter from the nearby market coupled with the brightly shining sun to make the day feel cheery. I felt intensely out of place, as though some dirty mark should be smeared over me to show that I did not belong. A heavy, bone weary tiredness descended on me. It felt like I had spent an entire day working in the field. I had very nearly died, but everyone here was going about their day, laughing and chatting like nothing was wrong.

I nearly died.

I stumbled as my boot clipped an uneven cobblestone. A firm hand gripped onto my elbow, helping to steady me and preventing me from sprawling onto the ground. I looked up to find Captain Strykar staring at me, eyebrows frowning just slightly as his dark eyes stared into mine. Was that concern?

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Stolen novel; please report.

I blinked at him. Was I supposed to be alright? A numbness seemed to be spreading through my chest, and my hands wanted to shake. What was I supposed to be feeling right now?

A cold wet thing nudged against my hand, causing me to look down startled. Greg was standing next to me, staring at me with his big yellow eyes. I felt myself smile a little as I placed my hand on top of his head.

“I’m fine,” I said to the Captain, glancing at him then quickly back at Greg when I felt the prickle of tears in my eyes.

Don’t cry, don’t you dare fucking cry here.

I buried my hand into fur around Greg’s ears and gave him a scratch. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to pet a wolf, but Greg leant into my hand and let out a grumble that sounded content.

I noticed Captain Strykar glance down at Greg, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. He said nothing more, and released my arm before leading the way through the crowd of people towards the mansion.

I lay sprawled on the bed back in my room, wishing for the oblivion of sleep that so far eluded me. I barely remembered my trip back to the Strykar mansion, only that Greg had stayed pressed against my leg as I walked, and allowed me to keep my hand buried in his fur until we reached the mansion’s entrance. Once we’d made it back, Captain Strykar had arranged for me to be seen by their doctor who stayed in the mansion before hurrying off to meet with the Duchess.

The doctor had been a kind man, reassuring me I wouldn’t have any lasting injuries from the attack. He gave me an ointment that smelled strongly of herbs to help with the bruising, then sent me off to get some rest, saying that was what I needed most right now.

I opened my eyes with a sigh, rolling into a sitting position on the bed. Though I felt exhausted, the events of the day kept replaying in an endless loop in my head each time I closed my eyes, and my body refused to relax. It felt like my muscles would almost cramp from the tension.

I stood, walking over to the bathroom and turning on the light before pushing the button to fill the tub with water.

Hopefully a bath will help.

I walked over to the small vanity where the mirror was hung. I stared blankly at the face it reflected. This face was pale and tired, dark circles sitting under the eyes. A ring of red and purple bruising circled around the neck, a long graze running down the side. I could almost count the fingers on the hand that had squeezed that neck from the markings it left. I felt my lip begin to quiver, and hugged my arms to myself to try and hold back the shaking I could feel building up in my body.

I don’t want to be here.

A sob escaped my mouth. My eyes welled with tears so the face in the mirror blurred out of sight. My whole body started shaking as I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

I want mum and Da. I want to be back on the farm. I don’t want to be here.

The sobs kept coming, the tears kept falling. I didn’t want to cry but was not able to stop myself. I sat on the cold floor and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face into my arms as I sobbed, voice echoing off the tiles amid the sound of running water.

After some time, my eyes burning and throat feeling raw, I remembered the water filling the tub. I stood and switched the water off, thankfully before it overflowed. I quickly stripped out of my clothes and lowered myself into the tub, water sloshing a little over the sides as I did. I sat there, unmoving and staring at my hands that rested on my knees, until the water was cold. My mind felt as though it was trying to push through a thick fog, as though everything was muffled and too far away. As though the walls kept expanding, leaving me isolated in the middle of nothingness as I sat in this tub.

When I began to shiver, I forced myself to get out of the bath, dry off and get dressed in a nightgown. I walked back into the dark bedroom, a slight breeze coming in through the open balcony door to ruffle the curtain inwards. Everything felt too far away. Too empty. Too foreign. Too cold. I crawled into the bed, pulling the sheets up over my head and hugging a pillow to my chest. My mind was heavy and blank, and finally, finally, I drifted into sleep.

I was awakened by loud, insistent banging that wrenched me from the sweetness of oblivion. I shoved the blankets off my face, sitting up with a groan and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My sleep had thankfully been dreamless, although now my mouth felt gritty and sour, and a thumping headache was radiating from the back of my neck.

The knocking persisted, causing the pain in my head to flare with each thump. I grumbled to myself and went over to the door, yanking it open to find Harold’s disapproving face staring down at me. I felt myself frown.

I’m so not in the mood for his bullshit.

“What?” I asked, my voice rough and grating harshly in my throat.

Harold’s eyebrows twitched upwards just slightly, but his expression otherwise remained the same. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind him.

“Her Grace wishes to see you in her study, Miss Rowan,” he said, lifting his chin so he was looking down his nose at me.

I clenched my teeth and inhaled deeply, a surge of annoyance bubbling in my chest.

Don’t loose your temper don’t loose your temper don’t loose your temper.

“Fine,” I grunted, grabbing hold of the door and beginning to shut it. “Hang on a moment, I gotta get dressed.”

Before I could close the door, a maid I hadn’t noticed pushed past Harold while giving him a sideways look that I almost thought was a glare.

“Here, Miss Rowan, let me help you,” she said with a polite smile.

I gave her a nod, not having the energy to disagree. As she helped me brush and braid my hair, I couldn’t help but think of Alice. What if this maid was also part of the Tarnished? Will she try to cozy up to me only to try stabbing me in an alley?

The maid thankfully didn’t try chatting with me, instead just quietly helped me to dress and wash my face. Once I was finished, before I went back to the door she gently touched me on the arm, causing me to look into her face.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Miss Rowan,” she said, looking into my eyes sorrowfully. “None of us knew what Alice was. If we had..”

I gave her a small smile and patted her hand while thanking her.

Did she actually mean that apology?

I walked out into the hall where Harold was waiting. Once he saw me, he turned on his heel without a word and strode down the hall. The maid looked over to me and rolled her eyes before waving to me with a smile and walking off on her own way. I followed Harold, and before long found myself once again sitting on the couch in the Duchess’ study.

The Duchess was once again sat in the couch opposite me, instructing her maid to pour a steaming cup of tea for each of us before dismissing her and leaving us alone in the room. Her husband and children were not present this time, but her presence alone made the room feel crowded.

The Duchess watched me quietly, her thick hair swept elegantly over one shoulder in such a way that part of her scar was hidden. Maybe she was trying to look less intimidating? I gingerly lifted the tea cup closest to me and sipped on the tea. The teacup had a gilded gold handle and was easily the most delicate and fancy looking thing I’d ever held in my life, I was certain one wrong move would break the thin porcelain.

“I’d like to apologise for what members of my staff have done to you, Miss Rowan,” The Duchess said suddenly, causing me to almost choke on my tea. I carefully sat the cup back into its saucer in front of me and wiped my mouth as she continued. “Be assured that we will be conducting a thorough investigation into our staff to ensure such an incident will not occur again.”