The Vampire & Her Witch

Jocelynn no longer moved through the halls of Lothian Manor with a minimal escort. When she’d first arrived, she was generally accompanied by one of the knights that her father had sent with her, acting as a personal guard, and Confessor Eleanor, for appearances and propriety’s sake. In general, however, Jocelynn had conducted herself like a resident of the manor, trusting in her Lothian hosts to keep her safe and moving about the manor with a minimum of fuss.

Things had changed dramatically, however, since Captain Albyn freed her from the Lothian dungeons. Once they understood what had happened to their lady, the servants from Blackwell County had come to the near-unanimous decision that the Lothians couldn’t be trusted to keep Lady Jocelynn safe, so as she walked through Lothian Manor, she was accompanied not only by Captains Albyn and Devlin but by a full retinue of servants and soldiers.

Behind Jocelynn came four maidservants, also dressed in black. Their clothing was simpler than their lady’s, plain wool skirts and tunics dyed a dark, charcoal black in a cut that was practical rather than elegant, but they were no less comprehensive in their mourning than Lady Jocelynn was. Each wore a black shawl over her hair and shoulders, and each carried herself with the quiet dignity of women who had loved those they mourned.

These were not Lothian servants assigned to attend a visiting noblewoman; these were Blackwell women who had followed Jocelynn from her father’s house, who had known Lady Ashlynn since she was a girl, who had wept when they learned of Confessor Eleanor’s death in the dungeons below.

Behind the maids came four guardsmen from Blackwell, their presence even more unmistakably martial than the ship captains’. They wore plain black tabards over coats of mail that clinked softly with each step, the sound of steel links a quiet but constant reminder that these men were armored for war, not dressed for ceremony. Each bore a heavy mace and a long fighting knife, and every one of them carried themselves like they were accustomed to using both.

With such a large group following close behind her, even when she’d spoken quietly, her statement that the women who married Lothian lords would be forgotten, and that it would be no different for her, set off a wave of consternation.

”Lady Jocelynn,” Captain Albyn said quietly as they continued through the halls, keeping his voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of the Lothian servants nearby. ”It doesn’t have to be this way. No matter what Lord Owain intends, he can’t just rush into things. If you write to your father...”

”You don’t understand,” Jocelynn interrupted with a soft shake of her head. Her expression was unreadable behind her dark veil, but her voice sounded close to breaking as she tried to find a way to explain to the man who had rescued her from the dungeon that he couldn’t rescue her from this.

”This was always the plan,” Jocelynn said quietly enough that only Albyn and Devlin could hear her words clearly. ”My sister, she...” she tried to say, only for her voice to crack and break as a tear rolled down her cheeks.

Jocelynn had spent much of the day with High Priest Aubin, ostensibly to plan Ashlynn’s memorial. In truth, it only took an hour or so to make the necessary decisions. The rest of the time, she’d spent taking advantage of the priest’s invitation to join him for tea. He was one of the few people who knew the truth of her sister’s death on her wedding night, and though he’d received orders from the Holy City preventing him from speaking of it, he saw no reason to hold his tongue when it came to Jocelynn, who had known the secret from the very beginning.

”Take the demon’s attack on the Summer Villa for the blessing that it is,” Aubin had encouraged her. ”For months, you’ve carried the burden of your sister’s death, unable to mourn or see her off the way you should. Now, you no longer need to conceal your grief and pain from the world,” he’d pointed out.

”At the same time,” Aubin added. ”Your cousin Eleanor’s death provides you with a shield against those who know the truth,” he said, carefully refraining from naming Owain. ”To anyone who feels like you should have moved on from your sister’s death, you are simply mourning your cousin. This is another gift that Eleanor has left for you,” he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. ”She will not mind if she shares your period of grief with your sister...”

”I owe her too much already,” Jocelynn said, barely keeping herself from sobbing in the High Priest’s sitting room. ”Now she’s done this for me too...”

Her conversation with Aubin had lasted for hours, progressing in fits and starts as Jocelynn unburdened her heart to the white-haired priest. Aubin, for his part, said very little. Eleanor had already set Jocelynn’s feet on the road to redemption, and the young noblewoman was walking it as resolutely as she could.

All she needed from Aubin was the knowledge that she didn’t have to bear her burdens alone, and even if she didn’t feel like she could turn to the Holy Lord of Light for support and guidance, she could at least turn to an old man who would listen without judging.

Now that she’d returned to Lothian Manor, however, she was once again surrounded by people who didn’t understand what had happened, and the look she received from Albyn and Devlin when she said that this had always been the plan made her realize that she’d been too careless with her words.

”My sister’s health had always been frail,” Jocelynn said, forcing herself to smooth things over. The truth was a dangerous thing, and if these men were ever going to escape Lothian March, it was important to keep them in the dark, lest someone lay claim to their lives to prevent secrets from spreading.

”If it had turned out that my sister couldn’t bear a child,” she tried to say, only for her voice to break again at the thought of her sister having children... Nieces or nephews that Jocelynn would never get to hold in her arms because she’d been too petty and jealous to let her sister even have a chance for a sliver of normal happiness...

”My Lady,” Albyn said, his eyes going wide in horror and his hand unconsciously tightening around the hilt of his fighting knife. ”I didn’t think your father would...”

”He didn’t,” Jocelynn said quickly. ”It wasn’t his idea. And I... I even pleaded with him to accept it, because I thought...” she said, pausing in the corridor as she fought to regain control of herself. ”But I was wrong. So very wrong...”

”My father would say that ’we’re already in the narrows now,’” Jocelynn said as she stood up straight and squared her shoulders, doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t walking into what increasingly felt like a bear’s den. ”The time for steering was before we entered. Now, we just need to stay off the rocks and hope to come out the other side safely.”

”That may be true,” Albyn said, casting a worried look over Jocelynn’s head at Captain Devlin. ”But there’s still time to trim the sails and move ahead slowly...”

”No,” Jocelynn said, shaking her head slightly as she began walking again. ”We’re going forward, and the current already has a hold of us,” she said with a wry smile. ”So for now, help me to stay off the rocks, and let’s plan for what happens when we come out the other side of it,” she said in a fiercely determined tone.

She didn’t know if she would make it out the other side or not, but she had accepted that she might be charting a course to join her sister and her cousin. The only escape planning that mattered was the plan that would get men like Albyn and Devlin away from the nightmare that Lothian March had become. And maybe, just maybe, if she was very lucky, she’d be able to escape with them too.

But there were still things she had to do in Lothian March before she could flee, and she owed it to Ashlynn and Eleanor to see them done, no matter what it cost her...