Alpha Moon (Silver Moon, #0.5) Read online

“Daciana! We have no time to lose.” Angelica had been calling her daughter for nearly ten minutes.

  Daciana languidly entered her mother’s bedroom two doors down, standing in the large, ornately-crafted doorway with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Is father as adamant as thee about packing our possessions?”

  Angelica bristled and pursed her lips. “Men care not for such small matters; this is a woman’s job.”

  It took great effort for Daciana not to spit on the floor. After all, this was her father’s doing; he created the grim financial circumstances they were in, and now they had to flee London before scandal caught up. Had her father stopped his gambling, they would still be living a life of luxury, complete with silken frocks, dazzling jewels, and the finest delicacies the world had to offer. Now they were naught more than peasants.

  “I daresay, mother, he should be the one to stuff trunks and swallow the shame he caused, not us.” A swell of raw emotions rose into Daciana’s throat, constricting her airflow. She contained her feelings by thinking of her escape; she had been planning this for a fortnight. Once her family was properly situated in their new country cottage, she would gather what few belongings she owned and run far, far away. Mayhap another town would bode well, even improve her outlook. She was fearful of the consequences, however, should she be caught.

  “We are a family, Daciana. And, as a family, we must stick together. We are all we have left. When all is said and done, none of our material possessions matter.” Angelica waved her hand over the lace-and-fur embellished dresses lying atop her duvet, ready to be set into a chest.

  “Thou art married, so ’tis easy for thou to say. As for me, my debut would have been next week had the most recent turn of events not taken place.”

  Angelica continued folding her gowns and arranging them on her bed. “Thy debut shall continue. We are not postponing it because of our travels.”

  How was that possible? They would be leaving London tomorrow. “What dost thou mean?” Daciana asked, stepping twice toward her mother.

  “What I said, dear. Thy debut shall be next week . . . in Colchester.”

  Daciana nearly fainted. “Col—? Naught but peasant boys wait for me there. I cannot and I will not marry some poor man so I shall birth children and work from sunrise to sunset.” Her fists clenched at her ruffled skirt, all but ripping the fabric from its seams. The tears from moments earlier, when speaking of her father, threatened to spill. “Father knows about this?”

  Upon seeing her daughter’s distraught face, Angelica contained her smile. “Dearest Daciana, do not fret over such petty matters. This shall be our new life, our new home, and we cannot change that.”

  “He has ruined everything! My future, my dreams, my life here in London—all of that is now gone. He stole from us. He is naught more than a thief of our very existence.” Daciana stomped off, fists balled. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she angrily wiped at them. Slamming the oversized, mahogany door as she entered the room, she ran over and leapt onto her feathered bedding, face down.

  Three quiet knocks sounded outside the entryway.

  “Go away!” she cried. “I am not in the frame of mind to speak now, mother.”

  “’Tis me, miss Daciana,” said the small voice on the other side. ’Twas Daciana’s maid, Frida.

  Daciana sniffled. “Come in.”

  Gradually, the heavy door slid open and Frida’s slender figure emerged, her face full of concern. Daciana watched as Frida padded over to the water basin and dampened a strip of cloth. She hesitantly turned toward Daciana and raised the fabric like a white flag. Swiping away the last remnants of her tears, Daciana sat up and held out her hand, beckoning Frida to step forward. Though Daciana wanted to wipe her face with the cool rag, Frida clucked her tongue and insisted she do it herself.

  “If I may be so honest, milady,” Frida started, looking to Daciana for approval. Daciana nodded for Frida to continue. “Thou should not worry over this new change in thy life. Thou may think me odd, but I believe this trip to Colchester will be for the best.”

  “Oh, how can thou say such a thing? My life is here, not plowing fields like a commoner.”

  Frida bit her lip in an attempt to figure out how best to approach the subject. Instead, she decided to be outward with her thoughts. “Thy future husband awaits there.”

  Daciana stopped breathing for mere seconds. “How dost thou know such a thing?” She eyed Frida warily.

  Licking her lips, Frida asked, “How well dost thou trust me, milady?”

  With a hand planted over her heart, Daciana replied, “I trust thee as I would a sister, if I had one.”

  Frida leaned closer to Daciana’s face, so near the exhaled air from their lungs merged. “Promise me thou will tell no one of this conversation.”

  Noting the seriousness of Frida’s face, Daciana’s stomach sunk in fear of what her maid would tell her. But, out of curiosity, she nodded in compliance.

  “I have ears and eyes in other places of this world. An ally in Colchester sees many things, and thy future has already been written in the stars. On the full moon of the following month, thou will change—and not for the better. The world will tremble at thy feet. The forests will speak thy name in harsh whispers and cruel tongues. Thou shall be immortalized under the silvery moon, and the bright sphere in the night sky will become thy fatal enemy. Speak not of this curse to a soul, for if thou dost, ’twill be passed along to thy children and theirs. Thou must live with this blight in silence.

  “Fear not, though; thou shall not suffer alone. There will be another, one who gives his whole heart to thee. One who will move mountains and turn everything to gold. Thy hearts will be connected as one and shall always remain so. Even in times of darkness, when the world has turned its back on thee, the coupling of thy souls shall endure. Forever.”

  Daciana remembered to breathe, but she suddenly felt lightheaded. “I-I think I must lie down for a while.”

  “My intentions were not to scare thee,” said Frida. “I am only keeping thy best interests at heart.”

  Best interests be damned! Frida spoke in riddles, explaining that Daciana would be cursed. Daciana knew not what to believe. All she knew was that she needed to stay away from Frida until tomorrow, then she would never see her again.

  Dutifully, Frida dismissed herself. As the door closed behind her, Daciana could not help but wonder if she stood corrected. Frida had always been a trustworthy and loyal servant, and Daciana would bestow absolute confidence in Frida, should the need ever arise. Yet her claim of Daciana’s future was eerie. Depressing. Any talk of a curse was nonsensical, and Daciana knew there was only one way to prove it untrue—she would flee and never look back.

  Chapter Three