Barrow went to the table and picked up the candlestick before slipping back into the hallway. A moment later he reappeared, having lit the candle from one of the corridor’s lanterns, and returned it to its place on the table. “I’ll bid you good night then, Lady Morrow.” He closed the door as he left, not waiting for her answer.
The cloud-covered sky rendered her cell very dark. The single candle offered a subtle gleam as she moved to the wardrobe to search for nightclothes. Upon opening the wardrobe, Ember was greeted by unfamiliar garb. No kirtles, brocade, or even simple wool dresses lay within. Instead she found a pair of hose so fine she thought they must be silk, linen chemises, leather chausses, and the tabard worn by the Guard. She ran her fingers over supple leather breeches. She’d never worn anything like them. The clothing of the Guard was the clothing of men. The thought of dressing in their manner was both strange and exciting. On the highest shelf she found sleeping shirts, though like the rest of the wardrobe’s contents they were new and not those she’d brought from home.
Ember shed her gown and kirtle, trading her chemise for one of the sleeping shirts. She folded her clothes and left them at the foot of the wardrobe where they could be easily collected. The floor chilled her bare feet and she scurried to the pallet. She blew out the candle before lying down. Without the help of the slender flame, the room surrendered to darkness. Ember shivered, pulling the scratchy wool blanket over her, thankful that the pallet was filled with a soft material, likely feathers or down, and not straw.
Damp cold crept beneath her blanket and Ember considered digging her cloak out from the pile of clothing and wearing it for additional warmth. But if, as Barrow had said, the clothes she’d worn today would be gone tomorrow, then she’d be better off adjusting to her new living conditions as quickly as possible. She missed Agnes, with whom she’d shared a bed at their father’s house. Her sister’s giggles and whispers late into the night would have been as welcome in this lonely cell as her warmth.
Thoughts of her sister made Ember feel even colder. With each day of the journey, and tonight at the feast, Agnes seemed to grow more ill and sorrowful. Ember was certain her sister was hiding something. The only regret she felt was that she wouldn’t be able to help Agnes as she prepared for her wedding.
Ember curled into a ball and waited for the wool blanket to trap her body heat, cocooning her away from the chill of her cell. As her mind drifted, she couldn’t help but remember the warmth of thick furs and fine cloth that covered her in her father’s house.
“The past,” she murmured, only half awake. “The past is no more.”
She had begun to drift away from the world when quiet knocking brought her back. She slipped from her bed, the cold floor on her bare feet making her draw a hissing breath. Another knock came and when Ember opened the door, Barrow’s tall frame loomed before her.
“Barrow,” she whispered, the sight of him shocking her heartbeat into a frenzy.
He took a step back, as if the sight of her made him unsure of himself. Ember glanced down. Her nightshirt fit loosely and its neckline was askew, leaving one of her shoulders bare. And he’d easily glimpse her pale legs from the knees down.
Heat crept up the back of her neck. Giving a quick shake of his head like someone trying to clear his own befuddlement, Barrow moved out of the doorway to reveal another figure standing at his back.
“You have a visitor,” he said softly.
“Oh, Ember.” Agnes rushed forward, throwing her arms around Ember.
“I’ll be waiting outside and will escort you back to the manor when you’re ready, Lady Morrow,” Barrow told Agnes, and closed the door.
Agnes was clinging to Ember, who held her sister tight. She was embarrassed that her eyes had begun to sting with tears, but having her sister close was such a comfort, and their sudden parting at dinner hadn’t been the type of good-bye Ember had hoped for.
“Thank you for coming,” Ember said. “My heart was broken after the day our family had.”
Agnes let Ember go, and though her face was tear-stricken, her eyes were tight with guilt.
“What’s wrong?” Ember asked.
“Father sent me,” Agnes murmured, casting her gaze downward.
Ember turned her back on Agnes and crossed the room to sit on the bed.
“But, Ember.” Agnes’s voice quivered. “I did want to come myself. I swear. I already miss you terribly and we haven’t even been parted a day.”
Ember couldn’t bite back her anger. “Why did Father send you?”
“Only to ask you to reconsider.” Agnes scurried to the bed, taking Ember’s hands.
“He knows I can’t leave. And even if I could, I don’t want to,” Ember snarled, though it felt like stones were slowly being piled on her chest. It wasn’t Agnes’s fault that their father wouldn’t accept Ember’s determination to have a life of her own.
Agnes squeezed Ember’s fingers. “You don’t have to. Father only asks . . . no, pleads for you to make a different choice. One that doesn’t cut you off from your family.”
Ember sat quietly, looking into her sister’s reddened eyes.
“I know you don’t want to surrender to Father’s will,” Agnes said. “But what of me? Of Mother?”
“What would you have me do?” Ember whispered.
“Couldn’t you serve Conatus some other way?” Agnes asked. “Must you become a warrior?”
Ember gritted her teeth. “Father’s only concern is that he’s still able to marry me off.”
“You’re right,” Agnes agreed, surprising Ember. “But I would wish the joys of marriage and motherhood upon my sister. Joys we could share.”
Ember pulled her hands free of Agnes’s grip with a sigh. “Agnes, you are so dear to me, but you’ve never understood who I am.”
“Do you really want to be like Father’s men?” Agnes frowned. “Those horrid brutes?”
Ember thought of the Guard standing around her, welcoming her to their ranks. She remembered the terrible beauty of Barrow and Kael battling on the practice field. Most of all, she recalled the pure exhilaration of fighting alone, of opposing a true foe, and of winning. She’d never felt such joy and she wouldn’t give that up. Not even for her sister.
“The Conatus Guard are nothing like Father’s men,” Ember said quietly. She focused a piercing gaze on Agnes. “But you know that. You saw Barrow fight them.”