3. Katrin

Chapter 3

Katrin

T he bells resumed the moment Father opened the door. I clamped my hands around his arm to keep from covering my ears. My smile was a brittle mask plastered on so often I feared it would crumble away to reveal the scared, angry girl beneath.

My father's lips continued to move as we strolled down the hall. Between the noise from the bells and his mustache impeding any chance at lip reading, I was clueless to everything he said. I mimicked his facial expressions and nodded whenever he paused.

For once, I was grateful of society's preference for silent women. I couldn't have answered if I wanted to. Even without the bells, I was finding it increasingly more difficult to maintain the ruse of a happy daughter.

My father didn't seem to notice though. He prattled on, unknowing that his words fell on deaf ears.

After several minutes of one-sided conversation, I pulled my arm from his and made a vague excuse to leave.

Now that my plan was coming to fruition, I needed to prepare. My mind whirred as I thought about all that I would need before tonight. Thankfully, the shift in focus muffled the damned ringing. With a slightly clearer mind, I tallied the short list of necessities. Traveling light was my first priority, especially since there was no way to guarantee success. Still, if I did succeed, I didn't want to be left with nothing.

My first stop was my parents' chambers. On my way, I concocted a story for my intrusion that proved unnecessary. The rooms were cold and empty upon entry, the servants not yet turning down the beds. My parents shared a large calling room from which branched off separate sleeping quarters.

Between the two rooms sat a small safe containing my mother's jewels and a meager portion of our wealth. Father had recently invested in a new keyless safe. This one required only the proper combination of numbers to open. Luckily, I knew the correct code already. It was tomorrow's date, my birthday.

The irony was not lost on me as I turned each of the dials until they showed eight-zero-eight and pulled the lever. The date that had been important enough to protect their valuables would soon be remembered as the day their daughter ran away from home.

The money inside was used only in situations when bank notes would not do. My father's title went a long way toward ensuring confidence in business deals. So much so that these coins were rarely touched. I hoped that would remain the case for the next several hours as I stashed a substantial amount in my pockets.

Guilt hurried my steps as I raced to my room and deposited the gold into one of my many purses. Using my vanity chair as a step-stool, I hid the bag above my wardrobe. It joined my secret collection of choice reading material and a dried rose that had been given to me by Tanner on my thirteenth birthday before everything had changed.

I picked up the rose, remembering everything I'd thought it meant. The future I'd dreamed for us on the promise of a single bloom. It crumbled as I held it, wasting away like my dreams.

Crossing the room, I opened a window and threw the remnants of the flower out. I spit after it for good measure, slamming the window closed as the symphony of bells crescendoed yet again.

I inhaled slowly, drawing my mind back to the task at hand. When I exhaled, the ringing had lessened to a manageable decibel.

I grabbed a rucksack and headed for the kitchen. Though I wanted to have provisions on hand just in case, I had no idea what I needed. It had been years since I left the manor, and even then, I'd never worried over food. The dresses I packed were more important, especially when there were servants to oversee all the meals.

The kitchen was bustling in preparation for dinner when I entered, but most of the staff ignored me. The others gave me dirty looks but let me be.

I found an empty waterskin that my father used while hunting and filled it from the large cauldron of freshwater meant for cooking. From there, I snuck down to the root cellar and gathered what food I could fit into my sack. Dried meat, cheese, apples. My hand hovered over the potatoes, but I didn't dare bring anything that required cooking. I had no idea what conditions would be like if I even made it that far.

Task completed, my focus waivered, allowing for the cacophony of bluebells to overtake me. The unfortunate truth that poked holes in my mental barrier was that Death might come for me at any minute. My plan may fail. I could be struck down where I stood, but at least it was better than waiting for Death to come to me. At least, I was trying.

Slinging the rucksack over one shoulder, I returned to the main kitchen area, head downturned against the barrage of noise. I muttered under my breath in an attempt to bring my focus back to the present.

"A better life, no more shadows, someone to love me, a family of my own," I named all my reasons for fighting, for wanting to stay alive. "To see the world, to try new things…" The list went on with each new dream drowning out more of the bells.

My steps grew lighter, less hurried as I found that peace within myself. I still kept my head down to hide my muttering, but it was working. A smile ghosted across my lips seconds before I collided with a soft yet immovable wall.

I windmilled my arms to catch my balance as I careened backwards, my peaceful mantra coming to a sudden stop. Dishes clattered to the floor, food flying in all directions, but I managed to stay on my feet. The head cook glared at me from where I'd walked into her, mouth moving faster than a hummingbird's wings.

The ringing resumed with a vengeance, but I didn't have to hear her to know what she called me. Demon .

Her lips pulled up in a snarl as they shaped the word over and over.

I shrank under her hateful stare. My chest hollowed with every strike of her venomous words. Clapping my hands over my ears, I elbowed past her and fled to the sanctuary of my room.