Free The Storyspinner by Becky Wallace

the bedroom door swung open.
    “Oh good, you’re up,” Lady DeSilva said as she hurried into the room. Her dark hair had been swept into a simple bun at the base of her neck. “Everything’s been arranged, and I’d like to get this over and done with before your brother arrives.”
    “You wouldn’t let me walk home with injured ribs,” Johanna said, looking for a weapon, something she could use to threaten the women away. She backed toward the window, eyes darting around the room for a lamp, a chair leg, anything. “But you’ll send me away with a brand or short a few fingers?”
    “My dear, what are you talking about?”
    “It’s not a hand then? Perhaps you take a poacher’s foot?” A horrible thought crossed Johanna’s mind. “Please tell me you don’t punish like Duke Inimigo. One deer isn’t worth a life as a blind beggar.”
    The camisole the duchess held fell to the floor in a puddle of cream silk. “Johanna, we are not taking you to Punishment. Our tracker, Snout, found the trail just as you suggested and cleared you of any allegation.”
    Johanna’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Then who’s receiving the Punishment?”
    “My son. He has to pay for his crimes against you.”
    “Crimes against me?” Johanna weighed the words. “In that case, I’ll take fifty gold and be on my way.”
    The duchess’s lips twisted into a grimace, and Johanna guessed she’d aimed too high.
    “Thirty-five then, and we can consider it all forgiven?”
    “We can work out some monetary reimbursement, but the law is the law, and no amount of coin will absolve him.” The lady picked up the camisole and held it up for Johanna. “Though he’d appreciate your forgiveness, he couldn’t accept clemency without incurring a mark on his honor.”
    “And I suppose honor is important to him?”
    “Too important.” Lady DeSilva nodded, and Johanna noticed the frown lines forming around the woman’s mouth.
    Johanna tugged the nightdress over her head. “Well then, let’s get to your son’s Punishment.”

Chapter 18

    Rafi
    The girl practically skipped into the audience chamber. Perhaps skip was an exaggeration, but she certainly didn’t stride with the contained elegance of Rafi’s mother. She wore blue silk that clung to her chest and hips, revealing narrow curves that didn’t belong on any boy. Even her short hair had been combed into gleaming waves, cupping her chin and showing a fine-featured face.
    Thank you, Mother, for making me look like a complete and utter fool.
    Not one word was muttered, but Rafi could see Captain Alouette’s eyes darting between him and the girl who was most definitely a girl. The old retainer’s lips pursed, making his blond mustache wiggle like a furry caterpillar.
    Rafi withheld a sigh, knowing that his father would never have been in such a ridiculous situation.
    The duchess led the girl to the second of five chairs arranged beyond the small drain in the floor, too far from the hearth for any warmth. A ring in the ceiling meant to hold up a chandelier had been outfitted with a rope and heavy leather manacles.
    The girl’s clear gray eyes studied the ring and the drain in the floor directly below it. Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t say anything.
    Dom, Snout, and the new weaponsmaster, Raul Ortiz, entered a few moments later and barred the heavy door. It wasn’t thick enough to stop stories from fleeing the room. The kitchen staff was probably already whispering about the broken girl, carried to the estate in the arms of the soon-to-be duke, and her angry family who’d likely raise a challenge for whatever virtue the girl still had.
    What a wonderful way to start my legacy. I’ll be known as the first lord in two generations who required Punishment.
    “Thank you for joining us this day,” his mother said, welcoming the group. “My son, Rafael Santiago DeSilva, has been accused of accosting Johanna Von Arlo in the forest. She received six blows at his hands, and as