Page 20 of The Masked Baron
On the ride home their conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Her freedom from the manor had invigorated her. The trees had never felt so alive and the color more vibrant. The early fall leaves were beginning to change, turning into a mix of green, gold, purple, and red. Andalin would have to beg Lord Kerrigan to take her again when he returned to Braitwood Hall. Two more weeks and there would be even more color about.
Birks took the horses and left them to walk inside together. Andalin’s heart sped up as she realized how few times she had been in a man’s company outside the store. She could almost pretend Lord Kerrigan was her beau. If she were a fine lady, he would be just what she was interested in. She recalled her nightly chore of scrubbing the mud tracked in by customers back at Papa’s shop. She was meant to serve gentlemen, not marry them. When a person lived her entire life one way, it was difficult to imagine otherwise. She admitted it was growing easier to fancy herself living this way, but would it always feel like a game of pretend?
***
Ellis waited for Annie to open her bedroom door so he might walk her down to dinner. It was entirely unnecessary, and likely improper, but it was his way of trying to form a friendship with his new ward. Perhaps, if nothing else, he could offer her the lifestyle he himself could not enjoy.
She seemed less surprised this time when she opened the door and found him standing there. She wore a peach gown with her hair pulled back tight, with only a few loose tendrils to line her face. He preferred her wild curls, but they did dangerous things to his mind. His assessment of her caused her to lean back into the doorway.
“What’s the matter?” Annie asked.
“Nothing.” She surely thought he found fault in her, but the opposite was true. Her quirks of character, based on her unique upbringing, refreshed him. Every time she let down her guard even a little, Ellis felt his own walls lowering. She was a breath of fresh air to his rather stale life, not that she needed to know how he felt. “How was your ride?”
“The scenery was magnificent,” Annie answered. “Fall has always been my favorite season. I’m sure I’ll be walking like a monkey tomorrow from riding, but the horse and I got along fine.”
Ellis chuckled and held his arm out for her to take. “And did you get along with Lord Kerrigan?”
She blushed a soft pink. “Lord Kerrigan was an ideal companion. I think I will miss him when he leaves tomorrow.”
A small tightening in his gut surprised him, but he promptly dismissed it. How fortunate Kerrigan had nothing in his past tying him down. Ellis envied him that. Annie might be socially beneath his friend, but Kerrigan could afford to make a lesser match. And Ellis would do all he could to elevate Annie if such a union became desirable.
“I shall urge him to return soon, then.”
Finally—a smile just for him.
“I should like that.”
***
Andalin opened her eyes to discover a glimpse of light shining through her window. She hurried toward it to enjoy the sunrise and saw Ellis and Lord Kerrigan on horseback, going down the road. Sagging against the glass, she sighed. Ellis might not have the manners to say goodbye, but she thought Lord Kerrigan would have waited for her.
She no longer had anything to look forward to in her day. Even breakfast was ages away. She glanced around her lavender room to find something to occupy her. Her eyes fell on the book Ellis had left a few days back. She had not opened it before because she thought it was Ellis’s bad idea of a joke. She picked it up and began to skim the first page. The paper hadn’t yellowed with age, but the corners were dog-eared from use. By the third page, she was hooked and no longer skimming. The story fascinated her.
The witch of Baltar’s real name was Sephira. She was raised in a middle-class family, with an uneventful upbringing. Her family lived on the outskirts of the Black Forest, and she spent hours alone in the woods each day, fantasying about the perfect life. But that was not what made her famous.
The tale of her extreme beauty carried from town to town, and by the time she was of age, suitors came from all over to seek her hand. The more attention she was given for her beauty, the more she craved it. She was ever elusive to her suitors, declaring none handsome enough to tempt her. She kept them at bay, only speaking to her callers through an upstairs window.
The men would not be put off, so Sephira proclaimed the one who brought her the most beautiful gift would be the one she’d marry. Her collection of expensive jewels and finery accumulated until Sephira became exceedingly wealthy. Men of all stations were eager to give up their dearest treasures in order to win Sephira’s love. Sephira collected their things, but she never chose a husband for herself.
The years began to pass, and many found it odd her beauty and youthfulness did not fade. Rumors started about Sephira using sorcery to keep her beauty. The rumors ripened, and many soon believed Sephira bewitched.
One day a man named Sultare, a longtime suitor of Sephira’s, followed her deep into the forest, but Sephira disappeared. Sultare waited several days before attempting to follow Sephira once more. But again Sephira evaded him in the most mysterious way. He would not be put off. He spent years trying to convince Sephira to marry him, and he was determined to find out what lured her to the woods. He wondered about a liaison with another man or if, truly, her beauty was only a mirage.
On the fourth try he discovered Sephira’s secret. There was a door hidden between a tree and a rock, leading to a deep cave. Inside she kept the treasures collected from her suitors. Strings of pearls lined the ceiling above a bed of silk with diamond-encrusted pillows. Among the finery Sultare found Sephira chanting and rubbing a strange gem.
Sultare approached her and demanded to know if she was involved with sorcery. She laughed and told him that the rock of Baltar was nothing evil—just a relic passed down in her family for generations. She showed him the rock, but Sultare would not touch it.
He accused her of being a witch and demanded to know if her beauty was the result of a spell. This enraged Saphira, and she screamed that her beauty was real. The months of rumors about her appearance had only fueled her anger. She demanded Sultare take back his accusations, but he would not. Her horde of treasures disgusted him. He declared that her selfishness had spoiled her perfect face. When she heard this, she ripped her cloak and snarled like a mad dog. She held the stone up in the air and cast a spell on Sultare, telling him that his cruelty would cause his heart to burst before the next full moon.
It was three days before the full moon, and Sultare spent those hours spreading the story of Sephira. He called her the witch of Baltar. On the night of the full moon, Sultare’s death proclaimed the truthfulness of his story. He had been a well-respected man in town, and his friends took up a hunt against Sephira. But no matter how hard they searched, they could not find her.
Andalin shut the book with a shudder. The story of Sephira and Sultare was a tragedy she had not heard before. It had been set around the Black Forest, so it was possible there were shreds of truth to the story. The question was why did Ellis want her to read it?
After a brisk knock, Hannah entered to help Andalin dress for breakfast. As Hannah pinned up her hair, she wondered what kind of ladies Lord Kerrigan courted. Andalin missed their easy conversation—not that she imagined herself his equal.
She was going to have to come up with something to get her mind off him, or the two weeks until he returned would be trying indeed. She would put more effort into her riding lessons and read something scholarly that would make for good conversation when Lord Kerrigan returned. Andalin’s eyes fell on the worn book on her bedside table. And maybe she could do some digging about the story of Sephira. There was no more opportune time than the present.
“Hannah?” Andalin asked. Hannah had too many pins in her mouth to respond. “Have you ever heard of the witch of Baltar?”
