Page 3 of A Hunter for Luna

The new shoes hurt as I tried to keep up with him, pinching my toes with unyielding leather. The heels clacked on the rough stones.

Our old carriage awaited at the end of the walk. I didn’t recognize the pair of horses hitched to it; they were fine and glossy and stamped their hooves impatiently. The de Spoleto coat of arms was plain on the door, inlaid in ebony, though the wood was scratched and unpolished. By the time we reached the carriage, I was limping from the pain in my feet.

Father shoved me inside, hopping in behind me. That was scary. He never sat in the carriage when he could ride. As it jerked into motion, I huddled in the opposite corner, watching him warily.

He leaned forward, his light brown eyes hard on mine, like a hawk on its prey. I pushed myself back into the thin dusty cushion.

"Make him happy," Father ground the words out.

I had no idea what exactly that meant. Make sure the cook prepared his favorite foods?

My mouth was dry as the carriage bounced over the stone road, jostling me hard enough I had to clench my teeth to keep from biting my tongue. Father’s glare didn’t waver from me, and it was hard not to shake.

Finally, we arrived at a towering mansion on Noble’s Hill, where the wealthy aristocrats lived in Legnali. The little resort offered cool breezes and the sea in the summer, and cold and storms in the winter. Unlike the rest of the aristocrats, Canta, Rose and I lived here year-round. Father preferred Kalion, the capital.

Father’s family, the de Spoleti, were old but not rich, a cadet branch of the Imperial family. We were poor compared to the luxury that the families in this part of town lived in.

The carriage had barely stopped before Father grabbed my wrist again and jumped out. My knee banged the step painfully, making me limp even more. He dragged me through the gate, past carved stone walls encircling the yard, and down a path leading to the house. By the time we reached the door I’d almost lost the fight against tears of pain.

The door opened, revealing a tall thin man with receding black hair looking down his nose at us. “Lord de Spoleto. Lady d’Alvarez is in. Follow me.”

He turned left immediately, and the next room over was a study. A rug from Unfrijan covered the floor, all jeweled color and sinuous twining lines. The walls were lined with shelves, all in a dark wood, filled with scrolls and books and interesting little knick knacks. A woman waited near a massive desk, which had nothing on it but a single feather pen. The wood gleamed with polish.

She was tall, as tall as Father, with smooth bronze skin and black hair swept up in what looked like hundreds of thin braids elaborately coiled on top of her head. While her face was angular and sharp, her pale brown eyes were warm as she smiled.

The rose silk of her elegant gown was embroidered with golden flowers that matched the hairpins securing her hair. I clasped my hands together, awkward in my new clothing. Since I was apparently already married, I didn’t need a new gown or a red veil to cover my hair for the ceremony.

I hoped Canta and Rose would pack up my few belongings and protect them from being thrown out or burned as my mother’s had been. Her wedding veil was the only thing I had of hers.

“Lunetta. I’m Vala d’Alvarez, your new mother. It’s good to see you again, the last time we met you were a babe in arms.” Her voice was husky and rich and she walked forward and extended her hands to me.

Her perfume surrounded me, the sweet jasmine with the bitter notes of myrrh underneath.

"My lady," I managed to reply as I took them, my dread giving way to cautious hope. If she was kind, perhaps this new life would be better. If this wasn’t a cruel trick, or my husband wasn’t a monster. Knowing Father, he probably was.

Where was my husband? Surely, he and his father would be present to greet me too.

“Marco is ill, and Benedetto is detained until this evening,” Lady Vala said kindly, as if reading my thoughts. Then, in a cooler tone, “Emilio. Thank you for bringing her. My steward will remit the bride price as agreed later today.”

The dismissal was obvious.

I flinched at his expression, then he nodded to her curtly. “Vala. May the absent gods keep you.”

“And you,” she responded.

After a moment, my father's footsteps faded away. My feet throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I didn’t want to glance down, but I was afraid I was bleeding into my new shoes.

Vala pressed my shoulder. "Your rooms are upstairs. I’ll walk you to them.”

She would show me instead of handing me to a servant? I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

A few steps down the hall she paused, glancing down. “Foolish girl! You should have told me your feet were injured!”

She clapped her hands. A flurry of activity followed as servants converged, one picking me up and another easing the shoes off. My feet were bleeding.

At the sight, another ran to fetch the herb master down the street. Yet another started cleaning the splotches of blood I’d left when the shoes came off.

The grandeur of her home passed in a blur as I was rushed upstairs, very different from my home. When we reached my room, the servant settled me in a chair made of fine woods and deeply cushioned in blue velvet with golden trim. From where I sat, the attached bathing chamber was clearly visible. The opposite wall was covered by a huge tapestry depicting the founding of Kalion, the stitchery and color exquisite.

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