DAUGHTER OF DARKNESS

8

Kianna's grandparents had hired Giles when her father was a little boy. Later, when her grandparents died, Giles had remained to aid her father.

And when her father died and all the other workers left, Giles stayed with her family, promising to work for them until the day he died. But Giles had his own family to take care of, and having Catherine for a daughter could be quite exhausting.

Cat spied from behind the sofa. “Can’t you pretend you didn’t see me?”

“If your mother finds out you’re gone and I knew about it, she'll skin us both,” Giles said. “Come. The sun is about to set. Time to go.”

Cat looked at Kianna as if she could save her from such a cruel fate. Kianna chuckled. What was the worst that could happen? Cat’s mother would punish her again, and they wouldn’t see each other for the next two days.

They could survive that.

“Go, Cat.” Kianna waved her off. “Go before your next punishment is to spend an entire week locked in your bedroom.”

Cat’s eyes went wide.

Giles nodded, serious. “That could happen.”

“Fine!” Cat stood up, pouting. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Giles turned to Kianna and sniffed the air. “I can smell cinnamon.”

Kianna offered him a small smile. “There might be something in the oven.”

“I bet it’ll taste delicious.” The old man nodded at Kianna again. “Good night, miss.” He walked toward the door.

Cat dragged her feet, flinging her arms side to side, as if trying to grab a rope that tied her to Kianna. “Don’t make me go,” she whispered.

“I heard that!” Giles said, from somewhere in the manor.

“Damn it.” Cat stopped playing and waved at Kianna. “See you tomorrow. Hopefully.”

Then, she ran after her father.

Kianna’s smile lingered while she finished organizing the books and putting them back onto the shelves. She stepped back and admired her work. Half of them were done. Tomorrow, she would tackle the other half.

Following the scent, Kianna sauntered to the kitchen. Kianna leaned in front of the wood stove and carefully opened the little metal door. She spied the rising cake. Just a little longer.

By the time the cake was done, her family should be back.

Kianna stared out the window and checked the sun’s position. It was almost fully set. Her mother and her siblings had gone to the market to sell produce and buy a few necessities. They should have already returned.

If they weren't home in fifteen minutes, she would follow the road to town to meet them.

To distract herself, Kianna grabbed the broom and swept the ceramic kitchen floor. Then, she set up the table in the adjacent dining room. Four plates, four cups, and four—

“You really didn’t have to.”

Kianna straightened. That was her mother's voice, but it was too sweet to be talking to her siblings unless they had been angels in town, which she doubted.

“It’s nothing,” a new voice said.

Kianna’s brows knitted together. Curious, she crossed the hallway, opened the front door, and came face-to-face with her mother.

“Kianna, dear,” her mother said with a smile. Her hands were full of what looked like books. Books? Her mother stepped to the side, giving Kianna a full view of the owner of the strange voice. “This is Devon,” she said. “He saw me on the road and offered to help.”

The crease in Kianna’s forehead deepened. Why would a stranger offer help? Besides, even though her sister and brother were little, they could have carried something, lessening their mother’s burden. But as it was, the kids ran around behind them on the porch, already teasing each other—which often led to a fight.

Devon bowed his head at Kianna. “Hello.”

Kianna stood her ground. “Hi.” She gestured to the wooden bench to her right. “You can leave everything there. Thank you.”

“Kianna!” Her mother lost the smile. “I would like to at least offer a glass of water to this young gentleman before he leaves.” She took a step, but when Kianna didn’t move, she tsked. “Kianna, please.”

Kianna stared at the stranger. The first thing she noticed was his face. He had a serious face with sharp angles and thick eyebrows. His nose was straight, and his lips a light rose color. His dark eyes stared at her, and she felt as if she were diving into endless ebony pools. His dark hair was tied back into a messy ponytail, a few strands loose, framing his face. His clothes were black cloth and fit him well, even though he was tall, taller than her father had been, and wider too. He was slim, but his shoulders were broad.

Kianna shook her head, ashamed for having noticed more of him than she should have. She forced her thoughts to the matter at hand: a fine young man didn’t simply wander around at the country offering to help women in need.

She wanted him gone.

“I’ll bring some water,” she barked.

Her mother sighed. “Don’t be silly.” She pushed past Kianna, stunning her daughter with her mother brazenness; Kianna stumbled back.

The stranger reached forward and grabbed her wrist before she fell on her butt. “Careful.” His dark eyes fixed on hers.

Heat crept through her cheeks and she jerked her arm free.

“Come,” her mother called. Without ceremony, the stranger walked into their home. “Please, put those here.” She gestured to a side table in the foyer.

The stranger deposited the bags on the table, then he turned and sniffed the air. “I smell cinnamon.”

The heat in her face increased. “I’m baking something.” She rushed to the kitchen in the back of the house. She pulled out the cake from the stove. She baked it for her mother and siblings, not some stranger, but it couldn’t stay longer in the oven or it would burn.

Kianna returned to the dining room and set the cake in the center of the dining table.

Her mother’s eyes widened. “You made this?”

“Yes,” Kianna said.

Her mother smiled. “It looks amazing.” She looked at the stranger. “Devon, I’m about to make supper. Why don’t you stay and eat with us? You can have a slice of cake as well.”