Home > Defiant (Tales of Cinder #1)

Defiant (Tales of Cinder #1)
Author: M.J. Haag

Chapter One

 

 

The sudden baying of hounds startled the chickens at my feet.

“Hugh?” I called, shaking the grain dust from my apron.

“Here, Miss Eloise.” Our groomsman appeared from the stable, leading Sugar by her reins.

“Does that sound like hunting dogs?”

“It does.” He nimbly leapt onto Sugar’s back. “I’ll go warn the hunters away.”

As Hugh rode down the rutted path leading away from our small estate, I turned toward the two-storied house I called home. Smoke curled from all four chimneys, but with the hint of spring in the crisp air, I knew the fires wouldn’t be necessary for long.

Letting myself into the kitchen, I inhaled the warm yeasty smell of the bread dough Judith was kneading.

“Were those hounds we heard?” she asked.

“Yes. Hugh went to warn the owners off.” I shrugged out of my cloak and hung it and my apron by the door.

“It’s been happening too frequently in recent years. The king should remind people that he cares about these lands by visiting them more often.” Judith, who’d been with our family since I’d been born sixteen years ago, knew just how infrequently the king left his castle.

“I’m sure he has bigger concerns with Prince Granger’s negotiations in the north,” I said.

“What could we possibly need from the north?” Anne asked as she set a tray with a tea service for three.

“My guess is wool,” Judith said. “In those colder temperatures, the herds probably have thicker coats.”

While they spoke, I inspected the tray for something to eat.

“I was about to take this to the sitting room,” Anne said, noting my interest. “Mrs. Cartwright requested you join her and your sister in there.”

“You know Mother would be upset if she heard you calling her that,” I said. “You’re supposed to use her given name, Margaret.”

“In her presence,” Anne said with a small smile. “Elsewhere, I’ll respectfully use her title.”

I followed Anne from the kitchen, glad that Mother had selected her out of the many who had applied for the position. Already a widow, Anne was only two years older than me and didn’t want anything other than security in life. Something Mother wanted for Kellen and myself. Something I had no interest in if it came in the form of a husband.

From the study, I heard the soft murmur of Kellen’s voice as she read to Mother. She paused when Anne and I entered the room.

Mother reclined on a settee by the window. Although the sunlight gave her pale skin a healthier glow, the blankets that covered her body and pillows that propped her head bespoke the true state of her well-being. Yet, as much as Mother lived the life of an invalid, her gaze still alertly found mine.

“Hounds again?” she asked.

“So it seems,” I answered, taking the seat near her.

Kellen shut her book and looked at me. My twin was my opposite in almost every way. Her straight ebony hair contrasted with my wavy golden tresses. The startling blue of her eyes, as well as her pale skin, held no warmth, whereas my golden tones were reflected in the warm hazel of my gaze. While I was quick to let the world know every emotion I felt, she held everything inside. I also towered over her petite frame by four inches, which I never used to my advantage. I never had to because Kellen and I didn’t fight. Ever. Our differences did not make me love my sister less. No, I loved her more for each one.

I leaned forward and placed a kiss on my mother’s soft cheek, surprising her.

“What’s that for?”

“For giving me a sister instead of a brother. She would have been beastly as a boy.”

“I would have been too small to be beastly,” Kellen said evenly. “And tormented for my manly inadequacies. The only safe thing Mother could do for me was make me a girl.”

Mother snorted, a smile ghosting her lips, our banter amusing her as I’d hoped it would.

“Speaking of manly attributes…did either of you notice any of interest when you went to market?” she asked. “I’d rather hoped there would be callers soon.”

I gave Kellen a side glance. She kept her gaze focused on Mother.

“What?” Mother asked, catching the look. “What happened?”

“Nothing of importance, Mother,” Kellen said. She looked at Anne, who’d been preparing our tea, and accepted the first cup for Mother. The milky brown liquid was laced with medicine.

“I won’t drink that until you girls tell me what happened,” Mother said. The surly note in her words made me smile.

“Well, we know it’s not Father who gave me my temper,” I said.

“You’re right,” Mother said, relaxing visibly. “It is better to nurture kindness in every thought and deed than to let even a cinder of anger smolder in your soul. For it only takes a cinder to start a fire.” Then, she looked at me, love reflecting in her gaze.

“A fire can easily destroy what it took a lifetime to build.”

“Or the face of a shopkeeper’s son,” Kellen added.

Mother made a pained expression.

“Oh, Eloise, what did you do?”

“I tested the sturdiness of the blacksmith’s newest frying pan. I’m happy to report the smith was quite pleased with the results.”

“You hit a boy with a frying pan?”

“Well, if you must put it so brashly…yes.”

Anne made a small noise and quickly excused herself.

Mother stared at me for a moment before taking her tea from Kellen and drinking it down in several long swallows. She handed back the cup and closed her eyes.

“I’m ready for the full adventurous tale, my darlings.”

Kellen and I shared a smile and launched into a recounting of our market visit from the day before. We embellished a few places for entertainment purposes, but never so much as to veer from the truth. The truth being that, years ago, Kellen and I had gradually gained a reputation of sorts with the boys in town. My quick to ignite temper had earned me the nickname of Cinder while Kellen’s abidingly cool exterior had earned her the name Snow.

“When Carver lobbed a ball of muddy snow at Kellen, I grabbed the pan to block it; but my aim was off. While the ball splattered us, the pan hit Carver with a resounding gong that gained the attention of just about everyone on the street.”

Mother snorted a laugh and held out both of her hands without opening her eyes. The tea always made her tired.

Kellen took one, and I took the other. Mother’s thin fingers felt so frail in my own.

“I have been blessed with two beautiful, headstrong daughters who not only know how to care for themselves but for others, too. Your beauty is not in the texture of your skin or the shine of your hair. It’s what’s inside each of you, and it’s how you influence the world around us. You are my sun, Eloise. And you, my moon, Kellen. Both lights shine brightly and fill my life with joy.”

She gave our hands a gentle squeeze.

“You would fill my life with more joy if one of those thick-headed miscreants had caught your fancy, though.”

She peeked at us from under the lashes of one eye before closing it again.

“I hardly believe a miscreant—”

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