DAUGHTER OF DARKNESS

12

Devon.

He was still plowing the second half of the field, where they would soon plant new seeds.

She stared at him, not because he was shirtless and his muscles flexed with each of his movements, or because his long, black hair, tied in a low ponytail, stuck to his sweaty back—her cheeks heated at that thought—but because he was a mystery to her. The quiet man, who wasn’t much older than she was, had been here for almost five days, and since then, he had been working relentlessly. He woke up early, ate the breakfast her mother handed to him, then went out to work. He took a break for a quick lunch, then worked past sunset. Most nights, he joined the family for dinner after a quick wash, but he remained mostly quiet, observing the family.

Sometimes, Kianna wondered if he had lost his memory, but didn’t want to ask. He had suffered some kind of accident, lost his memory, found himself alone and wandering down the road, and when her mother showed him kindness, he couldn’t resist.

But if that was true, why wasn’t he trying to find his family instead of persistently working for hers? It didn’t make sense.

Shaking her head and pushing away those thoughts, Kianna carried the tools to the wooden bench beside the barn. She dropped the tools on the ground, then lifted the handle of the pump, working it up and down until water spit out into the basin. She washed her hands, grabbed a clean rag, and wiped down the tools.

Her arms and shoulders hurt as she brushed the dirt away from the tools. She tried not to, but she kept stealing glances at the young man still working in the field. The last traces of light lingered like a ghost on the horizon, and he was still working, as if he wasn’t tired at all.

With that stamina and energy and strength, he couldn’t be human. She laughed. Right, because what else could he be?

The sun had almost disappeared behind the trees on the horizon, when Kianna heard giggles, followed by annoyed screams. She couldn’t help but smile as she glanced in their direction. Her mother and her siblings were finally back from the village. They had gone to check on the new school that had been built. Her mother had hopes that the kids would be able to attend it, even though they didn’t know the logistics yet. Who would take them to the village? Then bring them back? But until they were accepted, they wouldn’t worry about details.

Calvin pulled on Selina’s long braid and took off, running into the house.

“You … pest!” Selina ran after their brother.

Shaking her head, her mother walked around to the back and approached her. “Those two,” she said with a sigh. “When will they stop bothering one another?”

“When they grow up and marry and leave the house,” Kianna said. But as the words sank in, her stomach turned. Not even she seemed like she would secure a marriage to help her family. By the looks of it, she would forever work in the field and grow old alone and wrinkled. God, she hoped her siblings had a better life than that. “So, how was it?”

Her mother’s face fell. “I’m not sure. There were a lot of wealthy families there.”

“Being rich or poor can’t be a qualification to be accepted into the school.”

“It isn’t a written one, but you and I know they will favor the children from wealthy families.”

Kianna gripped the large scissors, her knuckles turning white. Once upon a time, they had been well-off too. If it had been a few years ago, she would have been accepted into the school without a second thought. Now that they had lost almost everything, they were gossiped about and met with pity. “This is absurd.”

“Even Jocelyn was there, babbling about tradition and culture and manners.” Her mother sighed, and Kianna bristled. Jocelyn used to be a good friend of her mother’s, but she hadn't spoken to them since they had been forced to economize. “It’s fine, though. If they can’t get in, we’ll manage some other way. I need to think about finding them a tutor.”

“I can continue tutoring them,” Kianna said. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, sweetheart, but it’s either a new tutor or another farmhand, and unfortunately, I can’t split you in two.”

Kianna glanced at the young man working the field. Sweat covered his shoulders, making his skin glisten under the setting sun. Kianna averted her eyes. “Devon is the new farmhand.”

“Finding Devon was a blessing,” her mother said, practically swooning. “A few days ago, I would say you’re right, but if we want to profit this season, even if only a little, we need to expand the field, plant more, and for that, we need another worker.” Her mother glanced at the darkening sky. “All right, enough talk. It’s getting late, and I still have plenty to do. I should check that the children didn’t injury each other while washing, and then I'll prepare supper.” She patted Kianna’s arm. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Kianna watched as her mother dragged her feet into the house through the backdoor, her shoulders hunched, her head low. All that had happened since her father’s death, all the weight that had fallen on her mother, was dragging her down. Besides trying to take some of that load off, Kianna couldn't do much.

Unless she married a rich nobleman, who would take care of her family? The idea of marrying for convenience was repulsive, but she didn’t dwell on it. No rich nobleman would look at her in the state she was currently in.

After a long sigh, Kianna went back to work. She had to finish cleaning the tools before dark; otherwise, she would need to light a candle or gas lamp, and if she could avoid it—gas was now expensive for them—she would.

But her thoughts kept rolling. About her father, her mother, her siblings, their financial situation. If things kept going the wrong way, they would have to get rid of the only things they still had: the farm and the big stone manor behind her.

Lost in thought, Kianna rubbed the rag over the scissors’ blades. They slipped from her hands, opening as they fell, the blades running over her palm.