Page 109 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Chapter Eight
Edana was goingto beat Senara for certain.
Not only were several pots of cream pushed out of place on Lady Edana’s table, the wooden cross was missing.
Senara knew it would be she who would take the blame for its loss.
While she knew she could bring her issues with Lady Edana to Gavin, Senara did not wish to. She didn’t want him to think she only lay with him for special favors.
Even more though, Da had raised a tough lass, one who met the challenge of her own issues. And Ma had taught her to make the best of any bad situation.
Senara’s chest squeezed at the thought of them. Their faces rose to her mind, happy and loving and altogether so heartbreaking. Senara found it suddenly difficult to draw breath. There was not a day she did not think of them, nor make good on the lessons they’d taught her.
Nor was there a day she did not buckle beneath the weight of their loss.
Were it not for Gavin, she might have succumbed to the force of her broken heart. He was the one glimmer of joy which she’d clung to in the recent dark days.
“Get away from there, ye wretch.” Lady Edana’s voice snarled from the doorway to the room.
Senara jumped back and accidentally knocked several pots from the table. They fell to the floor with a series of pops and cracks. She stepped away from a blue one with a greasy brown liquid oozing from its broken shell.
“Forgive me, my lady, I—”
“Enough.” Lady Edana stomped toward her and threw something onto the table. The missing cross.
Edana’s face was a brilliant shade of red and her eyes glittered like stars of hate. “I wish I dinna ever bring ye here. Ye’re no’ anything but a country whore.”
Senara’s cheeks burned despite the coolness of the room. Her defense caught in her throat, stuck fast with shame. She hated how Edana’s words cut into her, how she gave the other woman an undeserving level of power over her.
Senara’s fists clenched at her sides and her breath puffed white into the air in front of her.
“It’s a good thing yer da is dead.” Lady Edana’s upper lip curled upward, as if she tasted something spoilt. “So he canna see what a slattern ye’ve beco—”
The chain of the cross rattled against the wooden tabletop.
Edana turned toward the sound and froze.
Balthasar stood beside the table with one fingertip pressed to the loop of the chain. He glared at Edana, the deep hate in his eyes glowing gray-white.
Senara knew those looks were never intended for her, yet she could not help the chilling effect they had on her soul regardless.
Edana gave a sharp gasp. It was the first time Senara realized anyone other than her might be able to see Balthasar.
“Do ye see him?” Senara asked.
Edana’s wide eyes never left the chain. “Who?” Her mouth formed the word, but no sound came out.
It was at that exact moment Balthasar’s face contorted into something ugly and fierce. He flicked his wrist hard and sent the cross flying across the room. It smashed into the wall with such force, only splinters remained of the relic.
Lady Edana dragged in a hard breath. Gone was her rage when she finally turned to Senara, and in its place was a helpless fear. “Who was that? You said him. Who is ‘him?’”
Senara looked toward the table where Balthasar had been and was no longer. “You dinna see him?”
Edana grabbed Senara’s shoulders hard enough to make her wince. “Who?”
Senara met the old woman’s frightened stare. “Balthasar.”
The old woman’s hand came at her like a snake strike, silent and too fast to deflect. It connected with Senara’s face in a stinging slap.
