The Thread Breaks

The spinning frame jerked to a stop, and I heard the ripping sound of my day's work being torn to shreds. "Tathen's teeth," I swore, pulling the switch that lifted the gear from the continuous, water-powered generator. The shuttle rubbed against the thread at higher speeds of the automatic loom. This thinned the threads in some areas, causing the worn strings to bunch until they caught the shuttle from its path and tore the fabric. I pulled the offending shuttle from the center of the rows of strings. The wood along its edge was still warm.
The door opened behind me. "Lila, come pull the threads from the tear apart again. If we ruin any more threads, Griffin will lose his mind." Lila's steps came closer until she was standing right behind me.
Then a hand lifted the shuttle from my hand. A man's hand. I jumped to my feet, almost knocking over the stool I had been perching on. The man behind me stood about 6 inches taller than me with light brown hair streaked with blonde highlights. His broad shouldered build betrayed his familiarity with a sword and his broad grin, his playful nature. "Griffin!"
Griffin chuckled and caught my waist with his right hand still holding the shuttle. "I think we can survive a few more spools of fabric. Here." He held in his left hand a heaping plate of bread and sliced chicken. "I've already told Lila to go home. You've worked into dinner again. I've told you, you can't afford to let your diversions get in the way of your health anymore." He touched my slightly protruding belly and kissed me on the forehead. I leaned into the warmth of it.
"Our baby is smaller than an apple. How can he eat so much?" I asked as I took the plate from him and sat in my chair away from the workbench.
He leaned against the desk beside me. "I want a pudgy little one, so she doesn't have a choice."
We had a bet going since the first time the doctor told us I was with child. If it was a boy, we'd name him after my father. If it was a girl, she'd be named after his grandmother. Ever since, the growing child had two names.
"How is the new project going?" He asked.
I took a large bite of bread and glowered at the loom. "It's fighting me now, but once we have it off the ground, we'll be able to halve the time spent at the looms for simple fabrics. I still haven't managed the patterned ones. Regardless, it will give us more time for the patterns and free up production for more high-cost items. When it works, that is."
"I'm still partial to your last invention." He placed his hand over the wooden box containing the rifled musket that leaned against the desk.
"You would be. It's the soldier in you. You favor the thing that destroys to the thing that creates. We'll make twice the profit on the textile machine. We're not even at war and it's more expensive to hunt with than a simple crossbow." My rifle wasn't the first gun on the market, but by my calculations, it was three times more accurate and more powerful to boot.
He pulled the clip from my hair. My brown curls sprang free and settled around my face, interfering with my food. I looked up at him in annoyance, but he just smiled. That peace that he always gave me washed over my annoyance, melting it away. "Oh, I'd say I favor things that create far more."
I turned away to hide my warming face.
"Make sure you finish and go to bed soon. It'll be a long day tomorrow and little baby Eleanora needs her beauty sleep." He took my work notes from the table. "I just have some things to finish and then I'll be with you." He left with the notes in hand.
I polished off the last of the chicken and padded down to the kitchen, leaving the plate for the morning staff to clean. That night, I didn't hear him come to bed but I woke up with the feeling of his breathing rising and falling against my back.
The Speckled Duckling was the kind of place that chose you to attend, not the other way around. It was under the ownership of the Prince of Lightera. His title was reserved for the most powerful man in the kingdom after the king, but Prince Elytra hardly lived up to his name. He was a socialite with no real interest in the goings on of the court. He instead surrounded himself with lower nobility and men of business.
The Speckled Duckling was nominally a hunting club, but it would be better to call it a parlor for the elite. Griffin, Baron of Fesserton, had a standing invitation on account of their service together when they were newly knighted men fighting the Western tribes that marauded into our territory. The two of them met at least once every year at this club to drink and listen to the pitches of those businessmen soliciting funders in new, but not always lucrative, ventures.
It was Prince Elytra who had brokered the marriage agreement between Griffin and my father at this very club. Now, a year after the arrangements were made, it felt like we had come full circle.
And yet, it was my first time to visit. Unmarried women were not permitted to enter the club, only the wives or other married relatives of the men personally invited were permitted entry. Still, I'd heard second hand of the gossip that spread easily when wine was included with the price of entry.
I rubbed the lace of my gloves into my palm. Though there wouldn't be any business pitches in the women's room, a single misspoken word or impolite mannerism would instantly spread to the ear of every person of any real social importance. On top of that, it would embarrass Griffin to show off a low skilled bride who could not even act in a proper fashion.
Griffin's face was buried behind pages as he pored over his notes and figures. There were more in the back of the carriage, along with the box from the previous night. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, looking for distraction.
"You let me take care of the business. You've already helped more than enough." He muttered, not pulling his face from his notes.
"I can help with the numbers."
"There's no need." He folded the stack of papers down and glanced at my fidgeting hands, then up into my eyes. "You have nothing to worry about. The princess will be with you, and she has adored you since the wedding. You only need to relax and enjoy your time."
I clasped my fingers together to stop their incessant rubbing.
He flipped the paper back up over his face. "You really must do something about that energy of yours before Eleanora gets here."
I smiled. "I don't think relaxing is an ability I will need. They say boys are more energetic."
"I'll believe that when I get a wife that can manage to sit still for more than a minute."
The driver pulled up past the expansive front gardens to the stone steps of the Speckled Duckling. A colorful inlaid statue of the titular bird sporting a top hat was installed over the door. The wealth to paint a statue in such bright colors just to place them outside where they'd bleach in the sun gave me a shiver.
My family, though remote, was quite wealthy. What Griffin's household lacked in financial support, it made up for in both skill and proximity to power. I knew the expenses of keeping up with their lifestyle weighed on him, but he never permitted me to look over the finances for myself. He may not have wanted to worry me or if he may have not yet come to trust such a new wife. Either way, not knowing mixed with his tendency to grant me anything I asked for made me wary.
The carriage came to a stop. Griffin hurried down and offered his hand. He was wearing a green three-piece suit. I took his hand and stepped out into the midday sun. Lila had dressed me in a ballooning green summer dress to match his. It was out of fashion, but openly displaying one's pregnancy was not only a faux pas in these circles, but also bad luck. In a few months, I wouldn't be able to go to these outings at all. For now, my stomach could pass as the result of newlywed indulgences.
We entered the club together and were immediately whisked off in different directions, me to the women's parlor and Griffin to the smoke-filled room just down the hall. Our footman trailed after him with papers and boxes.
The princess, Lady Seraphina, was waiting in a baby blue silk dress that hugged her form and dropped down to her shins, exposing her ribboned heels. Her dress was shorter than I'd ever seen a noble woman wear, but Lady Seraphina was the height of fashion. In a month, every young noble lady in the country would be taking up their hems.
The moment I stepped into the emerald green and gold-painted room, I knew that Lila had made a mistake. I would blend into the walls of this place.
"Cassiopeia! At last, I've been waiting for you." Princess Seraphina clicked across the room with the grace of a cat. "My dear. You look lovely. I see married life is treating you well."
She leaned into me and whispered, "Don't think you can fool me. I can see you and Griffin have been enjoying your nights together." I blushed scarlet and she looked pleased at my reaction. "Come on. I know you have a head for numbers and I need your help at the table."
Lady Seraphina drew me down to the poker table where three other ladies, two Countesses and the Queen mother herself. "Don't be shy and show them what you've got. It won't be their first time losing to me, darling. Loreta, Ethel, my lady, this is Cassiopeia, Griffin's new wife."
"Oh, no. I don't think so." The queen mother raised her hand to call for a servant. SHe turned to the other ladies. "Don't let the princess fool you. This one has a mental skill."
"Just let her play a round," said Lady Seraphina.
"I don't want to impose." I scratched at my collar. "And my skill is quite weak."
"Don't be modest. Here." Lady Seraphina sat me down in her seat as Lady Ethel shuffled the cards. The princess was leaning over my shoulder.
To my disappointment, the queen mother acquiesced. "Well, just until they bring the dice, I suppose."
Lady Ethel dealt the cards. I fumbled to pick them up, covering them with my hand: a four of hearts and a two of clubs. Ethel laid out the first three cards: three of hearts, five of hearts, two of spades.
Loreta was the first to call. "The Duke of Carrol has got himself yet another new lover. His wife passed nearly three years ago but he only hops from lover to lover, each of them thinking they'll end up his wife. Really, he was such a promising young man, with such a useful skill, but all he uses it for is the flowers of his bedroom." The other women snickered.
From what I could remember, the Duke of Carrol could enhance the harvest, but he rarely suffered the use of such a feminine skill.
Ethel raised. "Pearl, the Count of Gladrean's fourth granddaughter hasn't shown a single skill yet. She's almost 20 now. Such a shame. It seems his line is growing weak, likely the fault of that daughter of his, marrying a merchant of all things."
The table quieted for a moment. Lack of a skill was a social death sentence. Since the skill ran in noble lines, a weak or lack of skill was a shorthand for infidelity. It was possible for two skilled parents to produce a skill-less child but it was extremely rare. I wasn't naive to the rumors being spread about me.
"Raise," the queen mother moved additional chips into the center. "Well, Pearl is still a lovely, graceful young lady. She sings like a lark. I've heard rumors of a career in the theater. That would suit her very well."
"Indeed," said Loreta. "In fact, my son, James, has requested her to sing at the launching of his new ship, The Sea Snail. It'll be the fastest ship on the waters carrying cargo back and forth between here and the Pearl Coast. I thought it was a brilliant idea. Their names even match. It'd be quite the blessing for its maiden voyage."
"I fold." I laid the cards face down.
The game continued circling until Loretta called the queen mother's bluff and the women moved on to dice games. I did my best to blend into the sofa. The rest of the conversation was more marriages, births, and deaths of people I hardly knew, and my mind drifted to the problem of my loom shuttle.
The lady's guide I'd read in preparation stressed the importance of meeting as many people as possible at any given party, but I had failed to leave my table. Some other ladies had come by, but only for my companions.
As I left, Princess Seraphina kissed me on the cheek. "Do come by again. I look forward to having you to myself so we can talk properly. I'll call for you soon, so don't get too comfortable."
I smiled. "This was a lovely evening. Thank you for your hospitality."
Griffin met me in the lobby, looking as ragged as I felt. He was swaying too. It looked so unnatural to me that I didn't realize until he stumbled on his way into our carriage that he was quite drunk. Surely the deals the men brokered didn't require this much lubrication. He laid down on the seat with me, placing his head on my lap in the cramped carriage.
"How did the business go?" I asked.
"You're so pretty." He responded.
I pulled the lace off my hands and rubbed my face, praying for patience. "Griffin, did you sign anything in this state?"
He sat up suddenly and cupped my face so that my lips puckered. "Who do you think your husband is? Of course no signatures after the second glass." He laughed hardily at my scrunched up face. "I hope Eleanora looks like this face."
I pulled his hands off my face and pulled his head back down to rest in my lap. "Go to sleep. You're no good like this."
"I only had three glasses."
"I doubt it. We were there for hours. It's fine. A night of fun every now and again is not so terrible." Still, it surprised me. Not even at our wedding had he let himself drink this much.
"I really did only have three glasses. Sweet wine. Like candy. You don't like candy, do you? Haha. Are you so sweet that it just tastes normal." He chuckled for a while as we rode down the road.
I was drifting off when Griffin bolted upright. His eyes were hazy, but he was trying to focus on something. After a beat, he shouted up to the driver. "Speed up. Someone's coming."
Griffin had a skill, like most nobles. He could sense the presence of living people and animals anywhere in a vicinity. Active skills required a trigger, usually an emotion, to be able to be used. On our first night, Griffin had shared to me his trigger and the nature of his active ability. It was private, dangerous information for any noble.
Griffin's ability required concentration. And his eyes were drifting.
"Deerum, ready your crossbow!" I shouted.
A screeching whistle sounded from outside. A pack of whooping men on horseback were coming around the carriage.
"There's seven of them. On horseback." Griffin called out.
I shook my head. He must have been confused. What band of robbers could afford seven horses?
Deerum's voice called out from above, "Sir, there's something blocking the road ahead. We need to stop the cart."
Just a moment later, there was a sickening thud on the roof. It slid off to the side. I tried not to think of what it might be.
Griffin's grip was tight on my wrist as he struggled against the drink. "Quick, get under the seat. No, if it's robbers, they'll search the carriage." Griffin's eyes locked on mine for a moment. Just then, the cart pulled to a stop. "We're coming out. Don't shoot. We'll comply."
Griffin kissed my shaking hand like he had a thousand times. "Everything is going to be ok, my love. You need to run when I say."
He didn't say we'd run. Just me.
Griffin exited the carriage first, shielding me behind him. He let go of my wrist to hold up his hands in surrender. "You can have anything in the cart. You can have the whole cart. We don't want any trouble."
There were five robbers before us, but I could hear more behind the cart. The forest loomed on either side of the dirt road. The sun had set and there wasn't a single light to be seen beyond our carriage. Before us, the street was blocked. Looking back up the road, I could make out a lump. I looked away.
The robbers were dirty, rough looking men, but they rode their mounts properly as if they had been trained. Soldiers, perhaps, left unemployed after the military campaigns.
The oldest among them dismounted. His face was wrinkled in a permanent sneer showing off yellowed and rotting teeth. "Ah. Sire." His vulgar accent drew out the title, mocking us. "We will take everything in this cart."
Over Griffin's shoulder, I spied a hole in the dense foliage. I was dressed in dark clothing. Could I hide until morning?
The man drew closer. He pulled a long knife from his belt and turned it over so it gleamed in the carriage's oil lamp light. "There's just one problem. You see, the cart is only half the bounty." In a motion so fast it blurred, he dug the knife into Griffin's side. Griffin cried out and splayed his hands, freezing all five men in place. "Run!"
My knees locked and my blood went cold.
"Run!" He roared.
Like walking through molasses, I took a step forward. The men from behind the cart were coming closer. The five immobilized robbers tracked me with bloodthirsty eyes.
"Faster. Run." His voice was fainter.
I stumbled to the woods, leaving Griffin behind. Roots grasped at my feet while I struggled to run on the uneven ground.
Two men came out from behind the cart. I turned away as I heard another sickening shick of the knife entering flesh. "She's going for the woods."
I was vaguely aware of branches pulling at my clothes and skin, tearing into me, but all my focus was on listening for their approach. In only a few moments, it had grown too dark to even a few feet ahead. I ducked to the side where I felt a rock I hoped would cover me. My whole body was shaking now and my breath wouldn't quiet. The forest was spinning.
"Where'd she go?" The other men from around the carriage were entering the woods now.
"We can't lose her. It needs to be a clean kill." One of their voices was just on the other side of the stone.
I covered my mouth in the fabric of my dress.
"She won't be far."
"Oi, come out here and help us look for his b***h." This one was somewhere to my left, just a little further away.
The one on the other side of the rock rustled with something from his pocket. It took a moment to recognize the striking of a match. My stomach dropped as I curled in place. His face, lit with the flame, peaked around the stone. "Ah... there you are."
I tried to get up, but he was already on top of me. Panic set in. I scratched at his arms and face. "Hush now." He leaned forward, crushing me into the ground as he drew his knife.
No! The thought screamed through my mind, overtaking everything else. The knife plunged down.
I activated my skill. 

Reviews

[JessyJacob]

Hi ,

After seeing full length lines, you must have studied literature, even though you write so much it doesnt go as written by Noble Lauret. I want to read but i have office work now. Hope celebrations in home are going well.