Vindication

Chapter One

Ten years ago…

It was worth it, damn it.

Schwann sat cross-legged on the rough plank in the castle dungeon. It wasn't so bad, and despite being stuck there for a fortnight, he was content. It had been a long time coming and today just happened to be the wrong day for Cumore to pick a fight.

Cumore. His name just made Schwann seethe with hatred. Born to one of the highest ranked families in the nobility, Cumore was a snob, plain and simple. He lacked any sort of skill with a blade—or anything else for that matter—but was still one of the few squires selected for officer training. He was so arrogant that he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he'd bought his way in. No, he flaunted it.

Lying back on the plank of a bed, Schwann smiled to himself, remembering the instant his fist crushed the other boy's nose. The twisting of cartilage and subsequent splash of blood was nothing short of poetic. The crowd cheered but that couldn't drown out the whimpering, sniveling cries of pain coming from Cumore. And that, Schwann thought, was most definitely the best part.

A familiar voice called his name and he sat up to see Casey standing there. Dressed in simple clothes and carrying a burlap pack, it was hard to believe his closest friend was actually the daughter of a nobleman.

"So you're a criminal now?" she teased.

"It was worth it."

"I know. I wish I had been the one to do it, though."

He grinned. "Beat you to it." Standing up, he leaned on the wall near the bars. "I just hope I didn't anger the Commandant too much."

"Well," she said, a smirk tingling her lips as she lowered her voice. "When I walked by his quarters, I heard him telling his Captains about it. They were laughing. I guess they're all sick of Cumore, too."

"Then I guess it was more of a public service than a crime."

"Yeah," Casey replied. "Seriously." Sitting down on the cold stones outside the cell, she opened her pack. "I brought you something to eat. I figure even what they cook up in the mess hall is better than prisoner's rations."

He smiled and sat opposite her. "Thanks."

Casey handed him a sandwich and kept one for herself. "Tuna fish."

"My favorite."

"Consider it a reward," she smiled. "Though, when I get my turn at him, I'll stick him full of arrows."

"Always got to one-up me, don't you?" Schwann teased between bites. "Damn, this is good."

"I didn't make it," she answered, setting the sandwich down just long enough to secure her long blonde hair in a ponytail. "And of course I have to outdo you. Keeps you honest. I can't have you going on to make Captain and leaving me in the dust."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Not going to happen. I firmly believe that anyone with a rank above Lieutenant is a horse's ass. And, that's one thing I don't want to be."

"A captain or a horse's ass?" She raised a mocking brow at him. "I think you have already mastered the latter. Or, at least that's what the gardener girl told me. Apparently, I need to teach you how to flirt."

He sighed. "Yes, I'm not putting that one in the win column."

Mimicking his voice, she said, "Do you have a map because I keep getting lost in your eyes." Then, after an amused shake of her head, she added: "That was the worst thing I've ever heard. I mean, really? Where did you come up with that?"

"I heard one of the knights saying it to a maid."

"Where?"

"At the tavern."

"No more learning how to get dates in the tavern for you," Casey giggled, offering him an apple.

"Yeah," he said, taking the fruit. "I'm not doing that again."

"Though," she tapped her chin in false thought. "I think it was better than your behavior with the quartermaster's daughter and her prissy friends. I hope I've taught you proper manners since then."

He wanted to sink into the floor. "Let's not relieve that. I was…what…thirteen?"

"Two years isn't long enough to forget that," she said, giving him a wink. "I'm just glad you've learned that females don't think belching contests are attractive."

"Such abuse," he replied, feigning injury. "We all make mistakes."

She laughed. A comfortable silence held between them as they ate their sandwiches and fruit. After awhile, she retrieved a canteen from the pack and stared at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, noticing how her demeanor had changed.

Her brow furrowed and she passed him the canteen, but didn't meet his eyes. "Is it true what Cumore said?"

"About what?" he answered, taking a drink before passing it back to her.

She looked up at him. "About your family?"

His head dropped, his dark hair curtaining his eyes. "Yes."

"All of it?"

He nodded. "Yes, my mother was a scullery maid who worked in a noble's house. She and him…well…they had an affair. When my father learned my mother was pregnant, he wanted nothing to do with her. He threw her out of his household and she returned to the Lower Quarter. That's where I was born." A long sigh slipped from his lips. "And that's why Cumore hates me so much. The bastard son of a nobleman being allowed in the knights is some kind of personal insult to him."

"Schwann…I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he shrugged.

She tilted her head. "Did you ever meet your father?"

He dragged a distracted finger across the smooth stone floor of his cell. "After my mother died, I went to his home and told him who I was and that she was dead. He cursed at me and told me never to come back."

"How old were you?"

"It was right before I joined the knights, so thirteen."

She sighed. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Nothing to really tell, I guess."

Raising a brow at him, she asked, "Were you afraid I would look down on you, too?"

"No, Casey," he said, looking back up at her. "I know you're one of the good ones."

"Yeah, something like that," she replied, offering the canteen again. "Besides, remember that Cumore and his friends hate me, too. Probably more so."

He took another drink. "Right because you 'don't act like a noble.' I hope you take that as a compliment."

"I do," she said with a smile. "The class system in the Empire is ridiculous. They should take some cues from the Guilds."

"Yeah, maybe," he said, kneeling close to the bars to hand her the canteen. "I don't know much about the Guilds, though. How do you?"

"They're quite interesting. I read about them," she said a little too quickly. "But enough of that." Rising up to her knees she gripped the bars of his cell and met his eyes. "You really impressed me today, Schwann."

Her tone had changed when she said that, or at least he heard that last sentence differently. The words were tender and yet there seemed to be a drawl of sensuality behind them. He'd heard her speak that way to boys she liked, but never to him. "Umm…thanks," he answered nervously holding the canteen up between them.

She reached in and took it, her hand lilting just a bit too long over his as she gave him a warm smile.

He'd waited for this moment for months. How he'd longed to tell her that he wanted to think of her as more than just a friend but he'd been terrified to broach the subject lest she reject him. Now, blissfully, that fear seemed quashed.

Leaning his forehead against the bars, he watched her dark eyes dart back and forth, mirroring his own glances. He wasn't really sure how to kiss a girl, let alone through bars in a cell, but fortunately she took care of that.

Parting the bit of hair that hung in his face, she brushed her lips against his. It wasn't more than a caress, a chaste bit of a kiss, but it tickled every last nerve in his body.

Stepping back, she smiled at him, her cheeks red with color. "It's easier when there aren't bars in the way."

"Yeah," he answered, feeling the blush spreading over his face. "When I get out of here, I'm kissing you for real."

She winked and pressed the tip of his nose playfully. "If I let you." Rising, she sighed, "I'll bring you supper again tomorrow, but I better get back before lights out."

"Yeah…" he said, standing up and reaching to take her hand and kiss it. "Good night."

"Night, Schwann," she touched his cheek and then turned to leave. A few steps further and she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him before ascending the stairs.

He watched her go, holding his hand to the spot on his face where she had placed her hand. It seemed to tingle with warmth, wanting more of her touch. Sitting back on the plank, he wondered if the temperature in the dungeon had risen ten degrees.

Suddenly a fortnight seemed like a very long time.