Free Queen of Jastain by Kary Rader Page B

belief. He left her there, saying he wanted to check on something he’d requested. She shook her head in distaste, and it crossed her mind that she might prefer the outdoors.
    After using the facilities, she returned downstairs. Wandering to the front of the manor, Abby inspected each room as she passed. The main entrance of the house encompassed a large room with several doors leading to smaller adjacent rooms. Fine quality furnishings made of rich woods and jacquard fabric decorated the beautiful slate-stone house. She ran her fingers across the satiny purple fabric of a settee.
    One door led to a cozy parlor where she picked up a handwritten leather-bound book and thumbed through the pages. The colorful drawings adorned in gold ink seemed to lose none of their detail due to size.
    The clap of leather on the stone floor sounded behind her. Avant had returned to get her. She turned to greet him, but gasped. Her heart caught in her throat. It wasn’t Avant, but a chillingly familiar face.
    “Chad?” She blinked her eyes and shook her head.
    The man's hair was longer and his shoulders broader, but the eyes were the same. He seemed just as stunned by her, and they stood there, gawking at each other.
    He raised a tentative hand in greeting. “Geta, san ty Petra.”
    This was Petra? “I'm sorry. I don’t speak Jastainian.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face.
    He flushed crimson, but his gaze stayed fixed on her. The awkward silence engulfed them but neither could shake it.
    Avant strode into the room and abruptly came to a halt. She never broke her gaze from Chad’s mirror image.
    “Petra, this is Abigail, our guest.” Avant’s voice rang in the room and her mind.
    Though they both heard, neither she nor Petra acknowledged him. Avant cleared his throat. Abby finally closed her eyes and turned her head, which seemed to release Petra from the spell. He greeted Avant but kept glancing over at her. Her hands trembled, and she tried to steady her breath.
    “Abigail, this is Petra. He is the Bailiff of my lands. He can get you anything of which you have need, if I am…not…around.” Avant regarded her through narrowed eyes that held an emotion she couldn’t quite describe, but it wasn’t happy. “Is something wrong?”
    The sharp edge of his tone startled her, and she shook her head. “No, nothing.” How could she tell him his bailiff looked exactly like the guy she was zapped away from, the same jerk who'd broken her heart?
    Abby, deep in thought, barely heard as Avant thanked Petra.
    How could two people in different worlds look so much alike?
    Petra's voice jerked her out of her thoughts. He asked Avant a question. Avant laughed uncomfortably and said, “No.” The young man made a slight bow and left the room. Her gaze followed him until he was out of sight.
    Avant stared at her for a long moment running his index finger over his lips, his face unreadable. “It seems my young Landmaster is somewhat besotted with you. He is not one to be led by his emotions, and yet you obviously affected him.” He straightened his stance with feet apart and hands clasped behind his back. “What did you say to him?”
    Abby threw up her palms and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say anything. I don't speak Jastanian, and I can’t imagine what there is to be besotted about. I’m sure I look and smell like hell.”
    As if he realized the accusatory tone of his question, he quickly said, “Of course, you didn’t. I was surprised by his reaction to you.” His features smoothed and he spoke softly, reverently, “You do, however, underestimate yourself, Abigail. Even likened to hell you are quite beautiful.”
    Her cheeks flamed, and she averted her gaze. “Thanks.”
    Avant had her emotions in a tailspin. His hot and cold reactions confounded her.
    “ Come. Your bathwater will be getting cold.”
    * * * *
    She soaked for a long while and scrubbed her filthy flesh with the washcloth and the little carved soap. The