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Chapter 1: Geranium

Chapter 1: Geranium

"We keep this to ourselves until we can confirm what happened."

A flat white expanse opened under a foamy gray sky, speckled by coppery pieces of wood, indicating where the field's fence was buried beneath the snowfall. In the center of the field was a girl with her head tilted back towards the gray-green sky above. Delicate flurries fell across powder blue hair that streamed in ribbons behind her, carried gently by a wind that seemed afraid to set it down. She would almost look peaceful if it weren't for the crimson stain of blood that blossomed on her hands and dress like geraniums. It was dark, sickly color in the center of the blooms, ebbing out to a softer carmine.

Beside the field were several horses seated atop several of Prince Braum's fur-trimmed wardens. One man positioned near the front brushed away deep navy blue hair from the spectacles that protected his narrow, analytical eyes. Tiny snowflakes gathered on a shiny-looking brass wolf's head emblem, pinning his cloak closed around his chest.

"Is that a dog?" one of the men with him said, extending his arm to point. "Er, Emerys, sir, see at her feet there?"

Emerys followed the man's finger to a lumped figure at her feet. It was hard to make out from this distance, but the red exploded around the lump like an unfurling rose. His jaw tightened, discomfort moving up his spine.

Behind him, another warden said, "Builder above …"

The woman's head tilted an inch toward the wardens as though she sensed the conversation. Metal jingled as several horses shifted uncomfortably. Spooked. Reigns tightened, and muscles tensed as the men tried to calm their horses.

That small moment was the only time Emerys allowed himself to hesitate before dismounting. His leather boots folded the soft snow as a prickling sensation rose up his spine. Tiny darts of confusion mixed with worry as the smell of iron hit his stinging nose. He steadied himself on a part of the splintering wooden fence surrounding the field, then turned to the rest.

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"I'll go see if I can reason with her. Too many of us might frighten her into running. You two," he pointed, "Go around the other side in case she does." Nervous eyes peered back at him. "She probably ... came across this creature, and the shock of it has scared her, that's all."

The warden commander looked back to the girl, whose shining blue eyes now met his gaze. Each piece of snow falling from the sky seemed reticent to land on her, framing her pallid face in a distorted wreath of red, white, and powder blue. Cold fear gripped his heart like a vise as he realized the lower half of her face was similarly stained in red like she'd been dining on a decadence of berries in the dead of winter. He squeezed that fear into himself, contained it.

"Miss Auclair?" he called into the clearing with a voice as steady as the stone earth. "I'm going to come closer. Is that okay?" With no response given, he inched slowly forward.

Thin, stringy organs grasped outwards from the sheep in a rosette, clinging to the snow. Beneath curled wool, he saw long, deep gashes cut into the animal's hide. Its bulbous, spongy eyes were milky; its jaw stretched too widely downwards, and missing teeth. Pieces discarded haphazardly around it were already beginning to freeze.

His attention turned back to the girl, to fingernails with thin red crescents underneath them. Hi gaze moved up, up to her thin, pale arms to lips that wavered in the wind. Affixed to her face were rivulets of tears frozen in place on her cheeks. Even beneath the blood blotching her face, he could see her lips were an unsettling purple-blue color, and her bare arms shivered against her sides.

How long have you been here? he thought.

Her eyes began to clear and widen like she was waking up from a jarring dream. He watched as recognition, then fear took over, and new tears welled up in her eyes.

Against his better judgment, he reached out a gloved hand and set it on her head. "Let's get this sorted out, Lady Elodie."

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