25

How much time had passed was hard to say. It could have been a whole day. It could have been only a couple of hours. Time had seemed to lose all meaning; drifting in and out of a strange dozing state.

She barely noticed the motion of the trunk changing this time. Didn't really bother listening to the muffled conversations. She didn't even do anything when the lid opened and the trunk tilted, tipping her out onto a carpeted floor.

"What the – "

"She's your problem now, Lady."

A door slammed somewhere nearby. From her angle, the light needling her eyes, Ella could make out carpet threads and the base of a piece of furniture she could not place. Then, a swishing hemline came into view; every so often a pair of dainty feet could be seen.

The fabric creased as whoever it was knelt next to her. "Ella? Oh Goddess, Ella? Are you all right?"

The voice was familiar, but she could not work out from where. Ella shut her eyes and went back to pretending it wasn't happening. It was too light in here. She'd become accustomed to darkness.

The voice moved away and gave instructions to another person in the room. There were some busy noises; clanking, grating and what sounded like water being poured out. Ella didn't like the noises. They seemed to chime in time with the throbbing in her temple.

Rustling nearby and then the voice was back, whispering soothing words as fingers removed first her boots, followed by her damp breeches and then the rest of her clothes. It didn't cross Ella's mind to protest.

"Some assistance, please."

Another set of hands helped to lift her off the floor. For a terrible moment Ella thought she was being put back in the trunk and opened her eyes. She squinted against the light, trying to see who was carrying her, just as she was gently lowered into warm water.

A bath.

A door opened and closed nearby. Whoever was left in the room washed her hair, cleaning away the dried vomit, taking care not to touch the hot, egg-sized bruise that had formed on her left temple. The steam, smell of lavender soap and warmth of the water started to bring Ella back to her senses a little bit. She turned her head to finally see the owner of the voice.

"There we are," smiled Evaline, her brown eyes belying worry and fear. "Isn't that better?"

Ella didn't reply. She just blinked back at her aunt.

Evaline looked uncomfortable. "Come on then, Ella dear, let's get you out and dried. Can you stand now, do you think?"

Hesitating, Ella nodded. Her aunt held out a hand for Ella to grip as she stood, unsteadily, and managed to clamber out of the bath tub. A big towel was wrapped around the girl and she was led over to a nearby stool.

Evaline buzzed around busily and Ella sat there, watching her. Her aunt produced a clean nightdress which Ella docilely accepted being dressed in. Just as Evaline was gently towel drying her hair, a serving girl came in from one of the three doors in the room, carrying a tray.

"Ah, thank you. Here we are then, Ella dear." A cup of warm, fragrant tea was held to her lips. "Not too quickly now."

Ella was clear headed enough now to reach up and grasp the cup herself. Her aunt smiled and moved away a little bit. "Here…these as well."

There were grapes on the tray and flaky, fresh cheese. Ella slowly picked at the food, feeling more and more human with each bite. She wasn't sure she liked it; now she was starting to think again…and thinking was bad.

The food gone and the last dregs of tea drained, Ella looked up, a question on her lips. Evaline cocked her head at her niece and sighed. "Not tonight, my love. You need sleep and besides…I'm sure I don't have the answers you're looking for. Not at all." She held a hand out to the girl and Ella grasped it, allowing her aunt to guide her to another door in the room.

It opened into a very small chamber; big enough only for a chest of drawers, desk and a narrow bed. Ella realised it was a servant's bedroom, attached to the dressing room of a noblewoman, such as was found in the big manor houses in the realm.

There was no question now of where she was.

Evaline led her over to the bed and proceeded to tuck Ella in, as if she were a small child. The woman glanced around the room. "Not the best accommodation I'm afraid, my love, but…" she swallowed what she was about to say and gave a faltering smile. "Well, it will do for the time being won't it?"

She caught Ella looking at the other door in the room; one that she guessed led straight out into the landing. Evaline shook her head. "No point. He has the key." She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to.

Ella turned her gaze back to her aunt. Evaline reached over and gently stroked her cheek, frowning as she looked at the bruise on Ella's temple. "We'll get a healer to see to that tomorrow."

"It's all right," whispered Ella.

Evaline bit a suddenly trembling lip. She leant forward and kissed Ella on the forehead. "I'm sorry," she murmured into her ear and then, without another word, she left by the door they had entered through, closing it behind her.

Ella waited, listening. It seemed to take a while, but then it came. Click. The sound of a key turning in a lock.

Her eyes started to burn and a lump blocked her throat. She took a deep breath through her nose and held it for as long as she could, staring hard at the ceiling. It could be worse. It could. They could have left me in the trunk. They could have locked me in a dungeon…do people even have dungeons anymore?... They could have starved me. They could have…

A couple of tears escaped, despite her best efforts. Ella swiped them away impatiently, anger starting to seep back in. This isn't over. They've got me here, sure, but let them try keeping me here.

Let them just try.

xxx

Morning came as a surprise. The events of the previous two days had meant Ella had fallen deeply asleep within moments.

She lay there trying to gather her bearings, as memories of the last few days assaulted her mind. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut.

Hammering on the outer door made her jump. "Get up! You've got ten minutes to get dressed for breakfast!" yelled a male voice on the other side.

Ella sat up and swung her feet to the floor, wincing as her head throbbed and the room span a little. Leaning over and clutching the desk, she hauled herself to her feet and made her way to the chest of drawers.

Opening the first one she found breast-bands, loincloths and stockings. The second held underskirts. The third and fourth a selection of gowns. Ella frowned as she pulled one out. They were hers; she had left them at Brightleigh last summer – the only time she had worn any dresses recently. There were three pairs of her leather slippers too.

Shaking her head at the sheer planning that had gone into this, Ella stripped off the nightgown; a horrible frilly affair, she noticed now, also hers – a gift from a well-meaning relative at Midwinter. Picking out the least offensive of her gowns, a muted blue cotton number, she dressed and pushed her feet into a pair of slippers. The gown was on the small side now, proof she had grown a little in the past year. It was too tight across her shoulders and arms in particular, and revealed a bit too much ankle.

Ella disliked dresses. She didn't see the point in them; breeches and shirts were so much more comfortable. It had been a source of many arguments between her and her mother, who always kept her wardrobe well stocked as a matter of principle. Family occasions and parties were non-negotiable; breeches were banned.

There was a mirror on the desk; in front of it was a hairbrush – Ella's, from home – and some flowery hair grips that were most certainly not hers. Those she pushed to one side, wrinkling her nose, but she picked up the hairbrush and angled the mirror so she could see.

She almost didn't recognise the person in the mirror as herself. Her normally rosy cheeks were pallid and drawn. There were enormous dark shadows under her blue eyes, which looked bloodshot. The bruise on her temple had made the left side of her face puffy and her hair, which had been still damp when she had gone to sleep, stuck up at odd angles.

"Goddess, what a mess," she muttered to herself. Running the brush through her hair, biting her tongue as she caught the bruise, Ella worked until her white-gold locks fell straight to her shoulders once again. She pulled at her fringe, which she had meant to get cut after the big exam, until it hid most of the bruise and shielded her eyes somewhat.

Footsteps outside. Ella put down the hairbrush and pinched her cheeks to bring a bit of colour back into them. She pulled the covers straight on the bed and stood by the foot of it, hands folded in front of her, just as a key clinked in the lock.

Whatever the servants had been expecting, it wasn't the sight of the girl standing dressed and decorous, waiting for them. Ella suppressed a smile. They'd obviously been warned to anticipate some form of resistance. Well, she was full of surprises.

They'd find that out soon enough.

Neither of them spoke to her, but they beckoned for Ella to follow. She did, keeping a careful note of the corridors she walked down. She had not been to Stone Mountain for some years now, but there were certain parts of the manor house that were still familiar to her. She would use that information later.

Finally they came to a smallish dining room. Both servants bowed to her as they ushered her in – she was a prisoner then, but still a noble. Ella entered the room and stopped, looking at the people already sat at the table.

Her cousins, Derminia and Theodora, were staring at her, looking a little frightened. But then they always looked like that, Ella remembered, thinking back to when she had seen the two younger girls years ago. She had never met little Burchard; she guessed he must be breakfasting in the nursery. Evaline glanced up momentarily then looked back down at her plate. She was sporting a swollen lip that had not been there the night before. Guilt flooded Ella; it wasn't hard to work out her aunt had spoken up against the way Ella had been treated.

The guilt was replaced by fury as her eyes finally turned to the man behind all this. Aldren stood as Ella entered the room, a smug smile on his face. All Ella's plans of pretending to be compliant vanished from her head as sheer rage washed through her.

"Ellabelle," he said, inclining his head. "Good. Come and join us for breakfast, child."

He glanced at her as if expecting a curtsey – Ella knew he required it of his own children. She'd be damned if he was going to get one out of her. "Personally I'm surprised you let me down for breakfast, Uncle. I was expecting dry bread and water in my cell."

Aldren's expression flickered momentarily, but the smile remained. "I haven't ruled it out," he replied softly. "Sit."

Pick your battles Ella, said her rational inner voice. At least argue with him after you've eaten something.

So she sat and waited silently as the servants placed sausages, eggs and toast before her, filling a cup with juice. Her stomach rumbled so loudly, Theodora looked up.

"Let us give thanks!" barked Aldren, making the girl start and look down again. The family bowed their heads, Ella reluctantly. "Bright Mithros, we thank you, for sustenance and for assisting in bringing our family back to its rightful path."

"So mote it be," murmured Evaline and the girls. Ella remained silent.

She noticed no one started eating until Aldren did. Ella avoided everyone else's eyes; she concentrated hard on the food in front of her, wolfing it down so quickly she barely tasted it. Putting her cutlery down with a clatter, Ella looked up with a smirk and let out a loud belch.

It fell into an appalled silence.

Both her cousins stared at her and then glanced nervously at each other. Evaline was watching her husband, waiting for his reaction. Ella turned her eyes to Aldren too.

He had paused with his fork halfway to his lips. He replaced it on his plate now, looking back at his niece through narrowed eyes. "One of the things you have learnt at page training, Ellabelle?" he said, his voice dangerously mild.

Ella grinned at him. "That's nothing, you should hear me burp the alphabet," she replied cheerfully. "Although I'm not as good as Gerry, he can do it backwards as well."

"I see," her uncle steepled his fingers. "What else did you learn there?"

"Oh lots of things. I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. I can insult someone four different ways in Yamani. I can do a backflip. I can drink a pint of milk in fourteen seconds – I won that challenge, but I lost the one where you had to try and fit as many grapes in your mouth as possible, I could only manage twelve but Wyl did twenty-one, we always did say he had a massive gob, but – "

"I think I've heard quite enough." Aldren stood up, bracing his hands on the table. Derminia and Theodora flinched and looked down. Evaline was trying to surreptitiously shake her head at Ella. "My daughters will go to their tutor in a moment, who teaches them how to behave like proper noble ladies. You will attend with them. Things that you have learnt will be unlearnt very quickly and replaced by what you should know. Am I understood on that count?"

Ella held his gaze. "And what if I refuse?"

"You will answer to me."

"Oh, Uncle," Ella raised her eyebrows. "Do you really want to see what else I've learnt at page training?"

"Why, you insolent little…" Aldren made to move around the table, his hand raised.

Ella was too quick for him. She snatched up her eating knife, thrusting her chair out the way and standing in a combat stance. "Go on then. I dare you."

She was well aware she probably looked ridiculous, a tiny girl in a blue dress, brandishing a blunt knife like it was a sword. Ella didn't care. The man was a bully and it was about time someone stood up to him.

It did make him pause. What would have happened next was anyone's guess, but Evaline had also gotten to her feet, hands pressed to her cheeks in horror. "Aldren, please! Don't…" she faltered as he turned to glare at her and turned her attention instead to Ella. "Ella, please do as he says. Just…for me. Do it for me. Please."

Looking into her aunt's pleading brown eyes, Ella felt her stomach turn over. The woman was terrified; terrified of what Aldren would do to Ella and probably about what he would do to others as well.

"Fine," she said, at last, slamming the knife down onto the table. "I'll go. Don't think for one moment though that I'm doing this for any reason other than Auntie Evaline."

Aldren's nostrils were flared with anger; his voice was tight with it. "You will be allowed that one slip. That one. If you ever speak to me in that manner again…"

"Message understood, Uncle." Ella looked at him with disgust. "It's so nice to be here, with loving and caring family."

"Out, now!" he snarled and then glanced at the other girls. "You as well! To your tutor and I will only hear good reports today."

Derminia and Theodora shot out of their seats as if the Black God himself were after them. It was only sheer force of will that made Ella follow them, without saying anything else or making any rude gestures. She could feel her uncle's stare as she left the room.

I've got to get out of here. One way or another, I've got to escape.