The Forgotten Mistress: Tales of Misbelief II Read online

  Tales of Misbelief:

  The Forgotten Mistress

  Barb Hendee

  T · N · D · S

  Tales from the world of

  the Noble Dead Saga

  Copyright

  Barb and J.C. Hendee / NobleDead.org

  Copyright © 2013 by Barb Hendee and J.C. Hendee.

  eISBN: 1230000184885

  ASIN: B00F8OL8Z4

  BNID: 2940148404064

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Design, layout, and cover art by J.C. Hendee.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior contractual or written permission of the copyright owner(s) of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or deceased, businesses establishments, events, or locales is entirely incidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  The Forgotten Mistress

  Other Works The Noble Dead Saga

  Tales from the world of the Noble Dead Saga

  The Mist-Torn Witches Series

  The Vampire Memories Series

  Foreword

  No knowledge of the Noble Dead Saga or related works is necessary to read and enjoy these stories. They are written for fantasy enthusiasts in general and not just for our established readership. Readers new to this world can step into it through any of these short works.

  Tales are organized into “collections” where all stories therein share a theme and/or premise. When one or more link together, subsequent stories will mention “sequel to…” on their covers to guide you. Even so, each is self-contained enough to be your first adventure into this world.

  —Barb & J.C. Hendee

  The Forgotten Mistress

  I am called Elena.

  I live in a manor not far outside the thriving village of Pudúrlatsat along the Vudrask River, and I am happier than I’ve ever been in life.

  Four moons ago, I freed the lord of the manor, Stefan Korbori, from a nightmare set upon him by an undead sorcerer who had killed both Stefan’s wife and small son. After their deaths, the sorcerer cast a curse to keep Stefan forever inside his home. My lord had been trapped there for years with only myself and a few rotating servants for company. The rest of us could come and go as we pleased, but Stefan would die should he set foot outside the manor.

  He was not a man to remain locked away from the world, and he’d been going mad.

  I found a way to free him, to let him out into the wide world again.

  And he was grateful… and everything changed.

  The manor had come back to life. Stefan officially named me his housekeeper even though, in my early twenties, I was too young for such an office. But I knew how to run the house, and he allowed me to hire more servants and a well-reputed cook.

  I oversaw a flurry of cleaning and polishing, and I opened the windows to let in the air and light.

  I could barely contain my joy.

  As Stephan’s wife had been dead for several years, I’d taken her place in many ways. Her large room was now mine even though I slept in Stefan’s bed almost every night.

  The servants did not call me, “My lady,” as that would have been improper, but they did call me “Mistress Elena,” and they followed my instructions as they would have obeyed the true lady of the manor.

  To show his gratitude to me for freeing him, Stefan ordered me fine dresses in light colors. He liked to see me in colors such as sunflower yellow and sky blue. I am small with wheat-gold hair that I often leave loose and hanging down my back. No one would call me beautiful, but I have often been called “pretty.” I understand the difference.

  My lord did not love me, but he valued me greatly, and I loved him enough for us both.

  We were happy, and this was our state of existence upon a night four moons after I’d freed him from his curse.

  He’d spent the day riding out to one of the villages under his vassalage to check on the early autumn crops. Upon arriving home just past dusk, he walked into the main hall of the manor in time for his supper. I had a fire burning in the large hearth, and he smiled at the sight of me in a dress of light green muslin.

  “Is that the new gown I had made?” he asked.

  I smiled back. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Although the years he’d suffered trapped inside the manor and falling into madness had taken a toll on him, he was still a handsome man in his mid thirties with thick sandy-colored hair and clear blue eyes. He wore his face clean-shaven to show his even features. Only the lines around his mouth hinted at the pain he’d suffered… and his missing left hand.

  Several years ago, to test the power of the curse, he’d put one hand outside the front doors. His hand had begun to melt away and later had to be amputated at the wrist.

  At the time, this had devastated him. It didn’t seem to matter now, as he had adjusted and was thankfully right-handed.

  “Shall I call for supper?” I asked.

  He nodded, stripping off his single glove with his teeth and going to the fire.

  I followed him with my eyes. “Would you like wine or ale?”

  “Weak ale, I think. I’m thirsty.”

  Quickly, I walked through the archway of the main hall and down the passage into the kitchen. Putting my head through the door, I saw Maisy, our portly cook, placing a small plate of sliced cheese on a large tray already laden with food.

  Beatrice, who held the title of “first maid,” was waiting to take the tray. She was a tall, thin girl with mouse-brown hair, but she had remained with Stefan and me during the dark times of his curse when everyone else had left. She was loyal to him, and I considered her my closest friend.

  “Our lord is ready,” I said from the doorway. “He wants no wine tonight. Bring a pitcher of light ale instead.”

  Beatrice nodded. “I’ll be right in.”

  I hurried back to the hall to let Stefan know we could be seated. He always sat at the head of the long oak table, but instead of placing me all the way at the other, he liked me to sit right beside him so we could speak easily.

  “How is the harvest in the Dachau village?” I asked.

  “Good. So long as we have no flooding from the autumn rains, I think the wheat harvest will bring a profit.”

  Beatrice entered carrying a tray that was almost too heavy for her, but I fought the urge to get up and help her. During the days, Stefan liked me to function as his housekeeper, but at night, he wished me to play the part of his lady; I knew he’d frown if I rushed to help one of the servants.

  So I remained in my seat beside him.

  Beatrice managed to balance the tray, carry it over to the table, and set it down. Then she poured him a mug of ale and set out the fine supper I had ordered of pheasant roasted with apples, fresh bread, greens, and sliced cheese.

  Stefan nodded his approval. He liked pheasant roasted with apples.

  Once dinner was laid out, Beatrice vanished from the hall. After Stefan and I finished dinner, we moved to the other end of the table to play two games of draughts, and then we headed up to his room for bed. Beatrice would return later to clear the remnants of dinner away.

  Since the removal of Stefan’s curse, we’d fallen into this same comfortable pattern. He was quite bu
sy during the days trying to make sure everyone knew he was once again the active vassal who would help the peasants in his fiefdom with any problems or disputes—and that he was keeping a sharp eye on the harvest. At night, however, he wanted peace and a good dinner and my company.

  I made certain he had those things.

  As the two of us entered his room, I noted how different it was from only a few moons before. The window and its curtains were open, allowing in the fresh air. New tapestries had been hung, and the bedposts and tables had been polished.

  Closing the door behind me, I said, “This new gown you ordered laces up the back. Should I call a maid to unlace me or will you do it?”

  Turning, he laughed once. “You’d turn me into a ladies maid… with only one hand?”

  The sound of his laugh was like music to me. There was a time when he would never have joked about his hand.

  I smiled back at him. “I’ll call a maid.”

  “No.”

  Then he was behind me, and with one hand, he slowly unlaced my gown.

  I pulled it from my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. This dance was nothing new to us, but some things were different. In addition to making jokes, he’d never spoken sweet words before I’d removed the curse… and now he did.

  Turning me around, he touched my cheek. “I have never known a face as pretty as yours.” Leaning down, he touched his lips to mine. “I would be lost without you.”

  I drew a sharp breath. He didn’t use the word love, but he knew what I needed to hear. I cared nothing for being told I was pretty, but I lived to hear him say he would be lost without me.

  This was my home, and my place was at his side.

  He pressed his mouth against mine with more hunger, and I returned the kiss.

  I always returned his kiss.

  ·····

  The next two days followed the same pattern. I had several on-going projects to help repair the state of the manor, including supervising some of the servants in cleaning the cellars. I was worried about the roof, as it had not been repaired for years, but every time I mentioned it to Stefan, he frowned at me and offered no input. The same thing happened when I told him that the beds in the two guestrooms needed to be replaced and that mice had chewed holes in several of the larger rugs.

  I managed the basic house accounts, and I ordered all the food and paid the servants, but of course Stefan would need to arrange payment for expenditures like a new roof or cherry wood beds with mattresses. I assumed he was simply busy, and he’d get to these things in the winter when he had more time.

  As this second workday came to a close, and I needed to prepare myself for supper, I went to my room to wash and change. I loved this room. I knew only too well that it had once housed the Lady Byanka, Stefan’s wife, as I had served as her personal maid. But she had been kind to me and would not want him to be alone, and I was mistress of the house now.

  There was a lovely dressing table of dark wood and a matching wardrobe in which to hang my gowns. That night, I chose a gown of sky blue that Stefan especially liked and went downstairs just as he arrived home. I met him coming up the passage from the front doors, and we walked into the hall together.

  “Maisy has baked a fine salmon and red potatoes,” I told him as we neared the great hearth.

  He nodded and then, in his usual fashion, pulled his single glove off with his teeth.

  “You’ll need to arrange for a larger supper tomorrow night,” he said. “I just received final word in the main village that we have two guests and their attendants arriving. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more notice.”

  “It’s all right. I can make arrangements and order food from the village in the morning. Who is coming to visit?”

  He spoke the next words as if we were discussing the weather. “Luciano Jovanovich, a wealthy merchant from Enêmûsk, and his daughter, Coraline. The daughter is to be my new bride.”

  I stood in place as if I hadn’t heard him correctly.

  Though I normally kept my face in a near perpetual smile, he’d blindsided me so completely that my shock must have shown.

  He frowned in annoyance and waved his right hand through the air once.

  “I’ll not have any of that, Elena. The marriage means nothing to me. I haven’t met the girl, and she’s not even of noble blood. While I was away from the world, the rents diminished every year, and my coffers are nearly empty. Coraline’s father wants her to have my title, and I need her dowry to repair the manor. It is a business arrangement. It won’t change anything between you and me.”

  I couldn’t seem to move my feet, and breathing was difficult. If his money was nearly gone, why had he allowed me to hire more servants? Why had he ordered me new gowns?

  “You must have known this was coming,” he said in apparent confusion. “I’m free now, and I have to marry for money. There is no other way.”

  When I still didn’t speak, he stepped closer. “Elena, this will change nothing between us.”

  Nothing except that you will have a wife and the manor will have a new lady.

  Finally, I found my voice and managed to whisper, “I’ll have dinner brought in.”

  I was halfway to the arch when he said my name again, and this time, when I turned around, he appeared slightly uncomfortable.

  “Of course, Coraline will be living here,” he said. “You’ll need to move out of Byanka’s bedroom and find something for yourself in the servants’ quarters. You won’t mind, will you? You only use that room to store your things anyway.”

  I felt as if I’d been kicked in the stomach, but he didn’t seem to view anything he was saying as very important. Perhaps to him it wasn’t. I didn’t know how to fight someone who had no idea he was destroying my world—and someone who controlled my livelihood.

  “No,” I managed to answer. “I won’t mind.”

  ·····

  The following day, Beatrice’s face turned white when I gave her the news.

  “Oh, Elena,” she breathed.

  I stopped her before her pity moved me to tears. “There’s much to be done. Once I get my belongings moved, you’ll need to prepare the new lady’s bedroom and a guest room for her father. I’ll speak with Maisy about meals and go into the village to arrange for deliveries.”

  In this manner, I somehow made it through the day. I handled one task after the next until dusk approached, and I was in the main hall doing a final check of the flowers on the table.

  Stefan walked in wearing a burgundy tunic, black pants, and high polished boots. He looked very fine. I wore a gown of sunflower yellow, but for some reason, I’d pinned up all my hair.

  “Is everything ready?” he asked. “I think I heard horses approaching.”

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “We should go out and greet them,” he said.

  Without a word, I followed him down the passage, out the front doors, and into the courtyard. He’d not been wrong about hearing hoof beats, and indeed a small retinue was being ushered through the gates by our guards. A man and a woman were leading what appeared to be several servants on horseback and six guards in chain armor. My eyes went instantly to the woman, but she wore a cloak with her hood up.

  Stefan and I stood before the doors as our visitors approached and the man in front dismounted and pulled back the hood of his own cloak. In his mid-forties, he was handsome with dark hair, dusky skin, and a goatee. Beneath his cloak he was richly dressed in a silk tunic. He wore jeweled rings on four fingers of his left hand. I knew he must be the bride’s father, Luciano Jovanovich.

  Opening his arms, he embraced Stefan like an old friend. “My lord Stefan. So good to see you again.”

  So, the two had met, and I wondered when this had happened.

  Luciano turned, stepped back to the mounted woman, and reached up to help her down. “May I present my daughter, Coraline.”

  She pushed her clo
ak back over her shoulders, and then her hood as well.

  Standing beside me, Stefan gasped.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  She was beautiful… no, more than beautiful. She was exotic.

  The front of her glossy black hair was held back with a small silver tiara. Pale, flawless skin and perfectly proportioned features surrounded lavender eyes that appeared slanted… with a touch of kohl at their outer corners. She was nearly a head taller than me, and her figure was slender. Like her father, she wore no gloves, exposing long, delicate fingers.

  “My lord,” she said in a rich voice, bowing her head slightly.

  Stefan appeared unable to answer. Then he stepped forward and took her hand carefully in his, lifting it to his mouth.

  “My lady,” he breathed, though they were not yet married, and she didn’t yet share his title.

  Finding his manners, Stefan suddenly turned back to Luciano and said, “You must be tired and hungry. My guards will see to housing your men. Come inside, and I’ll have you taken to your rooms. Dinner will be served shortly in the main hall.”

  Forgotten, I remained back near the front doors. As Coraline noticed me, her eyes narrowed slightly.

  Stefan finally remembered my existence.

  “This is my housekeeper, Elena,” he said. “She’ll show you to your rooms. Should you require anything, simply ask her, and she’ll see it done.”

  My housekeeper.

  I wasn’t sure how much longer I could endure this.

  ·····

  Dinner proved equally humiliating with Beatrice and I playing the parts of invisible servants, carrying food and pouring wine. Stefan didn’t look at me once. Although he and Luciano chatted about crops and the wool trade, Stefan’s eyes often moved to Coraline.

  She wore a sleek gown of deep red with a plunging neckline and a diamond pendant around her neck. She appeared to hang on Stefan’s every word.

  As I leaned over the table to collect a plate, Luciano looked me up and down with apparent approval.