"The Gift"
Chapter One
My name is Lily, and I belong to Miles Matheson.
Back up, let me explain.
Five years ago the militia came to my village and rounded up the unmarried women. The villagers didn't take kindly to this and a small battle ensued. My people were annihilated, of course. And I was taken as a concubine; a war bride. There were four of us girls. That's what we were, just girls. At seventeen, I was the oldest. Too young to be married, my mom always said. Not that I'd had the desire. I wanted something so much bigger than a small life in a small village. And I got it, courtesy of Sebastian Monroe.
Surprisingly, our militia escort treated us decently. A few leered at us, but they were under orders not to touch us; and if there's anything the militia can do, it's follow orders. Two days journey brought us to Monroe's headquarters. We were ushered into a large tent with furniture that seemed highly out of place in what was hardly more than a canvas hut. We huddled together in the center of the room as the militia men surrounded us. Just when I thought serious trouble was upon us, in walked Sebastian Monroe, himself. Before this I'd only seen drawings of the man, but there was no doubt in my mind who I saw standing in front of me. With a wave of his hand the men dispersed, leaving us four girls alone with Monroe.
I can't say I wasn't scared. I was. Anyone in their right mind would have been. But Monroe seemed to be in a jovial mood. "My lovelies," he said, and indicated we should sit on the low ottomans against the tent wall. "I'm so glad you could join us. Your presence in this camp has lifted the spirits of all who have had the pleasure of seeing you." Nervously, we glanced at each other. This was not how we were expecting things to go. Perhaps the rumors weren't true; or at least exaggerated. Perhaps Monroe wasn't a monster after all. But that thought stopped dead in my mind when I remembered being torn from my family by his men, at his order. My hatred for him grew. How dare such a villain hide behind pretty talk and fancy furniture.
"You're probably wondering why I've brought you ladies here. The truth is that you're more important than you know. My men grow restless and deserve a reward. " Our collective eyes widened. "Don't look so aghast. I'm not about to pass you around like a bottle of whiskey. What kind of man do you think I am?" He asked with a smile, not really expecting an answer he was momentarily startled when I responded indignantly, "A monster, a villain and a scoundrel!" The smile dropped from his face, then was quickly replaced. "My dear, you are something. Beautiful and brave, a rare treasure indeed. Your fate is sealed. I know exactly what I'm going to do with you. As for you other three ladies, you'll be given to my three most trusted and decorated commanders. Count yourselves lucky to have such fortune. Why settle for a farm hand when you can have a warrior?" He turned to the door and ordered the men back in. "Take these three lovelies to their new husbands. Leave the redhead. I have bigger plans for her." And with that, my three friends were shuffled out of the room. I had no idea if I'd ever see them again. I really, really tried not to care. But I was no monster and a single tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away before Monroe could see it and take pleasure in my suffering. My mind suddenly turned inward and I wondered what hell Monroe had planned for me.
As if reading my mind, Monroe turned back to me and gave me what I assumed was his most gracious smile. Even still, he looked like a snake in a fancy uniform. "You my dear are more important than you realize. I am in a desperate situation and I think you're my best bet to remedy it." I thought this over as quickly as I could. Me, important? What skills could I possibly posses that would save the both of us? "You see," he went on, "I have a very dear friend, my most trusted partner. And he seems to be having an identity crisis. I'm hoping you can capture his attention and bring him back around to my way of thinking." "Me?" I asked, bewildered. "You don't even know me, yet you put this kind of trust and burden on my back!" I was becoming bolder by the second. Another smile from the snake, "I do know about you Lily and you seem to fit the bill. Young, pretty, with that unusually lovely shade of red hair. I know that before the lights went out your mother was an English professor and now your father is a gifted sword-smith. That explains your intelligence and boldness, and with a father that makes weapons I can only assume that you know how to use them." I snorted, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't." "You see," he replied, "there's that boldness. Personally I don't find it the least bit attractive in a woman. It's irreverent and almost bratty. But that's why I picked you. You're his type." "His type?" My voice quavered slightly. If this snake thinks I'm too intense for him, what kind of monster does he have in mind for me? Again, as if reading my mind he replied, "General Miles Matheson. You now belong to him."