Free Web NovelChapter 1: With A Sinking Heart
SOPHIA PAGEMOORE WILLOWMARCH
I felt the cold even before I was fully conscious.
My cheek pressed against the chilled dirt floor. When I opened my eyes, I saw stacked baskets and plump burlap bags.
As I became more and more aware, I realized my whole body ached.
Especially my head.
I pushed myself up to my knees, already exhausted from such a small effort. When I exhaled, puffs of cold air appeared.
Goosebumps pebbled my skin.
"Where am I?"
My hoarse voice echoed in the room. No, not a room. A storage building. Above the stack of miscellaneous crates was a small square window, its panes broken and jagged like a rotten tooth.
In the darkening sky, I watched the twirl of snowflakes.
Getting to my feet took a monumental effort. My legs shook as I stumbled to a small, wood bench. It creaked ominously as I sat.
I wore a dress that felt like a cage around my ribs, the bodice low enough to reveal the pale skin of my breasts. A thick gold necklace with a fat tear-drop sapphire nestled in my cleavage. The voluminous skirt had endless thin layers, but it offered no warmth.
My head felt heavy. I reached up and felt swoops and curves and twists. Thick and solid, like smooth rocks. Embedded in these shapes were combs and jewels and hair pins. I pulled a hair pin out from one of the bumps and looked at the gold rod with its jangly gemstones.
No wonder my head hurt. The back of my skull ached terribly, but with this elaborate hairstyle, I felt like my head weighed a hundred pounds. It added to the throbbing pain.
I gripped the bench, digging my fingernails into the worn wood. Everything felt real, including the solid weight of the huge gown and the gold jewelry.
Slowly, memories filtered into my hazy mind.
Standing on the bridge arguing with my husband’s white moonlight Penelope Shire.
On the vast property of the Willowmarch estate, Jasmine Lake shone like a polished jewel among the verdant gardens and dense woods. The bridge was more than a century old, built at the same time as Amaranth Manor.
The Willowmarch family had numerous military merits and three generations of martyrs who died in wars for the Northern Realm.
My family, the Pagemoores, had a long, illustrious history of producing scholar-officials. My father and both of my brothers currently served in the Imperial Court.
Jace and I seemed the perfect match. We were still children when our families arranged our marriage.
Jace was two years older. After his thirteenth birthday, he was sent away to receive academic schooling and military training.
Six years passed. Jace came home a year before our wedding. By then, I was skilled in calligraphy, chess, painting and music. I could host feasts and banquets, manage household accounts, and care for the Willowmarch elders with my eyes closed.
Our marriage may not have been born of love, but it might’ve well been one of respect and comfort. I would never know what that relationship would look like because into our lives came Penelope Shire.
Penelope, a beautiful village girl who’d worked as a maid, had saved Jace by taking an errant arrow. When it came time to return home, he couldn’t bear to part with his savior.
The mistress had been invited to stay in the family home even before the official wife entered the door.
So, yes, my fiance brought his other woman to the Willowmarch estate, gave her a sumptious room in the manor, and catered to her every whim. The tenderness Jace afforded Penelope had never been mine. I had loved him for so long, and couldn’t even get a crumb of affection.
When Penelope murdered me, I had been married to Jace for three long, lonely years.
In all that time, we’d never consummated our marriage. Not even on the wedding night. Jace had left for the Capital, claiming he had no choice but to obey the emporer’s decree.
And after that? He spent his time in the Capital or at the borders of the Northern Realm. Penelope had the run of the house. She ignored the rules that others followed, spent the Willowmarch money freely, and had no respect at all for me, the actual matriarch.
Jace refused to support my attempts to rein her in. He would never take my side in any conflict I had with Penelope. She became so arrogant she decided murdering me was the best path to becoming the Willowmarch matriarch.
She might not have had such grand ambitions if my husband hadn’t been so indulgent toward her. Then again, maybe he’d hoped for that very outcome. The wife dead. The mistress elevated.
Gods above. My head hurt so much.
I rubbed my temples trying to alleviate some of the pain.
The bridge.
Penelope had stabbed me. The blade pierced my lung. Then she pushed me off the bridge, and I toppled into the dark waters of Jasmine Lake.
Of course I’d been in a huge, elaborate dress much like the one I currently wore. Even knowing how to swim couldn’t save me. The dress was too heavy. My wound too severe.
While blood stained the water, I sank to the bottom of the lake. Between the stabbing and the drowning, survival had been impossible.
I died.
But if I was dead, why was I here?
I didn’t understand the situation. Was this heaven? Hell? An in-between place while deities figured out what to do with me?
I heard chains rattle. The metallic click of a lock. The thick wood door creaked open and my dowry maid, Daisy, poked her head inside. When her gaze alighted on me, relief flooded her expression. "Ma’am! I found you!"
"I ... I don’t remember how I got here," I admitted.
"Hmph. I knew Penelope Shire was up to no good. She had that smirk on her face, the one where she thinks she’s been clever. No matter. I’ve got you now."
Daisy’s impish smile warmed my heart. She had been with me since I was eight. She was bubbly and talkative and sweet. A sunbeam in my otherwise dark and lonely life.
Daisy helped to my feet and dusted off my dress. "I bet that homewrecker stuffed you in the furthermost storage building hoping you’d miss the Hunter’s Ball."
"The Hunter’s Ball?" I hadn’t been to the Hunter’s Ball since ... wait a minute.
Stunned, I stared at Daisy. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
Sweet holy goddess of the outer realm.
I’d been reborn.
