The Carnelian Legacy Read Online Free Page B
Author: Cheryl Koevoet
managed.
He patted her hand. “Stay here and rest for a while. We’ll be back to fetch you for supper a little later. The proprietor was kind enough to find some clean clothes for you. Rest well, milady.”
Arrie followed Darian out into the hall and shut her door.
Marisa studied the strange, dark green walls of her room. Where was this Carnelia, anyway? She stared at the pile of clothes on the bed. What had she gotten into this time? What would her uncle think when she didn’t return after her ride?
Her head was pounding, and the blood pulsed through her neck. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. Then she remembered the bottle of aspirin in her satchel and removed a little white pill. She found a crude water pump in the bathroom and pumped it up and down, collecting just enough water to wash it down.
As she glanced up into the mirror, Marisa was startled by her pale, grimy reflection. There was a streak of dried blood on the side of her face, and her hair was disheveled.
She grabbed a small linen towel and moistened it to scrub the blood and dirt off. A tear ran down her cheek and then another. Unable to stop the flow, she threw the towel in the sink and collapsed onto the bed. Was it really only just this morning that they had buried her father?
She sobbed into her pillow and a wave of exhaustion consumed her. Her body, mind, and spirit had all been stretched past their breaking point.
CHAPTER 3
ANDRESIS
MARISA AWOKE TO THE sounds of soft flute music drifting up from below. The fact that she was no longer in Oregon came flooding back like a tsunami. She stood to look out the window.
The soft glow of street lanterns pierced the darkness. The street was still busy below, but all the shops had been closed. She peered up into the hills where they’d emerged from the forest and wondered what Mark and Uncle Al were doing. They were probably worried sick about her by now.
Marisa shut the window and spotted the pile of clothes still folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The two men would be returning for her soon and she needed to get dressed. She slipped into the corset-like underwear and pulled on the long-sleeved shirt. It felt odd until she realized it was on backwards. The dress was a scintillating shade of deep ocean blue, with a rich, royal feel to it, like thick velvet. When she tightened it around her waist by pulling on the drawstrings, she noticed how it flattered her figure.
A loud knock at the door startled her. It was Arrie.
“How are you feeling, milady?”
“Honestly? I feel as if I’ve just been hit by a Mack truck.”
“Trust me, that’s a perfectly normal reaction,” he chuckled.
She followed him down the stairs and through several other rooms before they entered a noisy, crowded dining hall.
The beamed ceiling was nearly fifty feet high. Gigantic wrought-iron chandeliers hung down and emitted a warm glow. A large stone fireplace created a welcoming, cozy atmosphere in spite of the enormous size of the room.
Marisa gasped when she spotted several trophy heads of a hideous, apelike wolf hanging along the walls. Each of the heads varied in size, but they all had the same sharp teeth and menacing yellow eyes. She hoped never to see one alive.
Arrie motioned toward a table in the far corner of the room where Darian chatted with a pretty young woman. The woman set a jug down on the table and when he said something to her, she smiled shyly at him.
As Arrie and Marisa sat, the woman quickly curtseyed and left to attend another table. Darian poured the ale into three large mugs and handed both of them one before raising his own.
“ Ap eirie,” Darian said.
“ Ap eirie,” Arrie said. “It means ‘here’s to fulfilling your destiny.”
“Cheers.”
Marisa was finally able to get a closer look at the handsome young ambassador as he sat across the table from her. At least six feet six, he had to have been one of the tallest men she had ever seen. She quietly admired the
He patted her hand. “Stay here and rest for a while. We’ll be back to fetch you for supper a little later. The proprietor was kind enough to find some clean clothes for you. Rest well, milady.”
Arrie followed Darian out into the hall and shut her door.
Marisa studied the strange, dark green walls of her room. Where was this Carnelia, anyway? She stared at the pile of clothes on the bed. What had she gotten into this time? What would her uncle think when she didn’t return after her ride?
Her head was pounding, and the blood pulsed through her neck. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. Then she remembered the bottle of aspirin in her satchel and removed a little white pill. She found a crude water pump in the bathroom and pumped it up and down, collecting just enough water to wash it down.
As she glanced up into the mirror, Marisa was startled by her pale, grimy reflection. There was a streak of dried blood on the side of her face, and her hair was disheveled.
She grabbed a small linen towel and moistened it to scrub the blood and dirt off. A tear ran down her cheek and then another. Unable to stop the flow, she threw the towel in the sink and collapsed onto the bed. Was it really only just this morning that they had buried her father?
She sobbed into her pillow and a wave of exhaustion consumed her. Her body, mind, and spirit had all been stretched past their breaking point.
CHAPTER 3
ANDRESIS
MARISA AWOKE TO THE sounds of soft flute music drifting up from below. The fact that she was no longer in Oregon came flooding back like a tsunami. She stood to look out the window.
The soft glow of street lanterns pierced the darkness. The street was still busy below, but all the shops had been closed. She peered up into the hills where they’d emerged from the forest and wondered what Mark and Uncle Al were doing. They were probably worried sick about her by now.
Marisa shut the window and spotted the pile of clothes still folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The two men would be returning for her soon and she needed to get dressed. She slipped into the corset-like underwear and pulled on the long-sleeved shirt. It felt odd until she realized it was on backwards. The dress was a scintillating shade of deep ocean blue, with a rich, royal feel to it, like thick velvet. When she tightened it around her waist by pulling on the drawstrings, she noticed how it flattered her figure.
A loud knock at the door startled her. It was Arrie.
“How are you feeling, milady?”
“Honestly? I feel as if I’ve just been hit by a Mack truck.”
“Trust me, that’s a perfectly normal reaction,” he chuckled.
She followed him down the stairs and through several other rooms before they entered a noisy, crowded dining hall.
The beamed ceiling was nearly fifty feet high. Gigantic wrought-iron chandeliers hung down and emitted a warm glow. A large stone fireplace created a welcoming, cozy atmosphere in spite of the enormous size of the room.
Marisa gasped when she spotted several trophy heads of a hideous, apelike wolf hanging along the walls. Each of the heads varied in size, but they all had the same sharp teeth and menacing yellow eyes. She hoped never to see one alive.
Arrie motioned toward a table in the far corner of the room where Darian chatted with a pretty young woman. The woman set a jug down on the table and when he said something to her, she smiled shyly at him.
As Arrie and Marisa sat, the woman quickly curtseyed and left to attend another table. Darian poured the ale into three large mugs and handed both of them one before raising his own.
“ Ap eirie,” Darian said.
“ Ap eirie,” Arrie said. “It means ‘here’s to fulfilling your destiny.”
“Cheers.”
Marisa was finally able to get a closer look at the handsome young ambassador as he sat across the table from her. At least six feet six, he had to have been one of the tallest men she had ever seen. She quietly admired the