Red Feathers E-Book

Jessica Dooper

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Emelyne has been in love since the moment she was rescued from the forest, years and years ago. However, all accounts of this event were destroyed and she was warned by the king to never walk of him again. Now she has been sent away to marry a king, for power. But she wants to marry for love, and only with one.

Leseprobe

Jessica Dooper

Red Feathers

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Disaster

They say that every person envies me; that every young girl would change places with me in a heartbeat. If only they knew what my life is like. I have no freedom, no free will. I am shown around like a flower bouquet, dressed up like the queen that I will one day be, a symbol of my father’s power and wealth - nothing more, nothing less.

If only they knew how much I wish to tear off my slippers and run down the meadow, feel the wind in my hair and the cold at the tips of my fingers. I wish they knew what it feels like to be woken early, squeezed into tight dresses, and have my hair twisted and twirled and scraped and tied so I am looking appeasing for the visit of the next Lord from halfway up the Kingdom.

That’s why, instead of thinking about the new life they think I will one day lead with my betrothed, I am thinking of something else entirely. I stand back from the horde of maids packing dozens of chests with my material belongings. A horse-drawn carriage is waiting in the castle courtyard; already half full the belongings of my younger sister.

But I’m not going with them. My own bags are packed with the most precious of my possessions, my own horse waiting patiently with a second horse in the abandoned stables half a mile away. And he’s waiting for me, too, patiently, out of sight in the woods, ready to put our plan into action.

I’ve never met this king of a distant land who is expecting me in just two moons. There’s no silly whim in my mind, telling me that he loves me. He’s at least forty summers older than me, he’s never met me, and he is, they say, the most ruthless king that kingdom has seen. I would know not one person in that court, but for my sister. My heart aches to leave her, but I have no choice. Her meagre twelve years are far from enough for me to even consider allowing her to run away with me. She will be safer in the distant kingdom she is destined for, engaged to the king’s son.

It almost seems as though the maids are surprised at my subdued nature on this day. But I must be wrong. Any emotion they might feel inside would certainly be hidden under their years of training.

“I… I will be in the gardens, just for a few moments,” I stutter. I’m nervous, but I’m sure they will mistake it for sadness at leaving what has been my home since the day of my birth. In truth, it’s because I’m playing out every possible scenario of my escape in my mind, and I can see so many things that could go so easily wrong.  

~

In other circumstances, the gentle rocking of the lavish carriage might just have lulled me to sleep. The dark head of my sister, Mirabelle, is resting on my lap; her quiet breathing just distinguishable over the gentle sound of the clopping horse hooves. I stroke her hair, and a tear rolls down my cheek as I realise that I might perhaps never see her again. I look out the window and know that my plan will have to go into action very, very soon.

We are an hour’s slow travel from Stonegate, which marks the end of my father’s immediate territory. For the last ten minutes, I have been looking out for landmarks, and I have just spotted the small cluster of hills to our right that means it’s time.

I lean down and whisper in Mirabelle’s ear. “I love you,” I say clearly and softly. Her deep green eyes flicker open for the smallest fraction of a second and stare deep into my own sky blue eyes. As she drifts back into her calm sleep, I shut my eyes, and breathe deeply. My eyes fix onto the lavishly dressed back of the coachman in front of me, and I slip out from under my sister’s head.

I have to move quickly now. I tear off my uselessly dainty slippers, and reach behind me for the hidden compartment behind the seat, grabbing my small, worn bag with my most important possessions. I ready myself, and make a small, graceful jump onto the ground. The second I leave the carriage, Mirabelle sits bolt upright and screams my name.

“Emelyne!” The terrified scream of my sister hits me like a wall, and I turn back from my dashed escape just in time to see the two black horses of the royal carriage rear, and the two guards riding beside the carriage bolting in fright. The carriage topples as one of the horses breaks free; soon followed by the second. The coachman is trapped underneath, but that’s not what stops me cold. Mirabelle falls off the carriage and hits her head on the hard rock road, as the heavy carriage breaks and showers her with trunks and broken planks of wood, heavy with the ridiculous decorations that seem to be necessary for any carriage of value.

I know I told myself that I couldn’t take her with me, no matter what happened. But this barely registers in my mind as I drop my bag by the side of the road and tear back to her, shredding my feet on the sharp rocks that I don’t care to watch for.

I am screaming in terror and fright; I have no idea what to do, but I have to get her out of there. I push aside trunks full of useless gowns and cloaks, and see Mirabelle’s small white hand from underneath the bottom half of the carriage. My mind stops and warns me against what I could find. I can almost see her slim body, devoid of any breath, her eyes frozen in fright for evermore. 

But I push those thoughts to the back of my mind and touch her hand briefly before I search for something; anything, to use as leverage against the heavy panel that traps Mirabelle. I soon find the trunk which holds the tent that was to be used for stops along the way, and take out one of the heavy wooden poles.