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Book online «Druidess Found (Druidess Trilogy Book 1) Machelle Hanleigh (best ebook reader under 100 .TXT) 📖». Author Machelle Hanleigh



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the same time the castle contained modern day conveniences. The clothing, from all appearances, medieval, but with more modern type of fastenings. The hot bath water for her baths drawn from a spigot in the wall and emptied through the floor. Yet, the hearth, the only source of heat in the two rooms. Jaren set the hearth ablaze every morning and stoke every night. He never forgot to push up the lever to ensure the bathing chamber warmed enough for her baths. Even the garderobe, a cross between modern and old. It appeared to be nothing more than a hole in a box with a polished wooden seat, and yet had a handle to flush the contents. No strong odor existed as she might expect to find in a real true to nature medieval castle. None of it made sense.

If all of that wasn't unsettling enough, it became clear they mistook her for someone else. She didn't know if Jaren did or if he perpetuated the mistaken identity. He supplied minimal information or conversation and took care of the ordering around of the women. He was always present when the women brought the meals to her. He didn't comment when the women took those same meals away hours later barely touched. Jaren appeared content to leave her to her own devices most of the time within the limited space she took up of the library and bedchamber suite.

In one of her less than calm moments, she demanded to know where she was. Jaren calmly and simply replied Ki. She tried to question further what it meant, but he bowed and left her to her moment of hysterics. Kaily still possessed no clear thought on what happened to bring her there. Her attempts to make sense of the situation failed and the one person who might provide any answers, remained vague. She knew the blame she laid at Jaren's feet to be unfair, but dammit, how could she to make sense of it all if he couldn't even explain a simple answer! Ki? What did it mean? Being raised by a linguist taught her that one word could mean a multitude of things. Without a deep understanding of the culture and language there couldn't be a true understanding of what any one word meant.

Her current situation didn't register in her mind in a way that made sense. She refused to believe the impossible became possible. She ignored the fact that Jaren and the serving women spoke the same language from her early years when her parents first found her. If she did accept any of those details, where would that acceptance lead her? She didn't know and she didn't want to know.

She knew it was hopeless to try and go back to sleep. She felt restless as she did each and every morning. She threw off the bed covering, gathered up the throw blanket from the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around herself to ward off the cold. She didn't much care for the color of it or that of the room or wardrobe. It appeared that red from very bright to very dark dominated the decor and wardrobe of the rightful occupant of the room. She felt thankful to Jaren for telling the women which clothing to lay out and not once did he pick a red of any variation for her, which said something about him. She just didn't know what. The other dresses stashed in the back of the wardrobe were variations of greens and blues. She thought it strange they would exist because of the obvious preference of this Mistress person.

Kaily opened the shutters to the window and perched carefully on the ledge. There was no glass in the window and the ledge was not low enough to keep her from falling out if she lost her balance. She didn't intend to fall. Despite the somewhat modern convinces of the castle, she felt no desire to come face to face with these people's idea of a doctor. She thought the fall wouldn't kill her, but it would cause bodily harm. She carefully pulled her knees to her chest and tucked her bare feet under the blanket's edge. She felt an unbearable cold which stemmed from her fears more than the cold outside.

She had a week left if Jaren spoke true that the occupant would return in a fortnight.

She lifted her eyes to the sky and the moon, if it could be called that. It was larger than the moon back on Earth. A golden sheen surrounded it. She thought it looked more like a planet than moon. It told her she no longer remained on Earth. The sight of it disturbed her and gave her a measure of comfort at the same time . She credited the disturbed feeling because of it being out of the norm of what she used to see in the sky. A week ago, it'd been faded. She could tell that it became more substantial and larger as if drawn closer to this planet with each passing day. Which assumed she didn't already loose her mind. At least, the beauty of it gave her some measure of comfort in an otherwise bizarre set of events.

She focused her attention back to the room with the opening of the bedchamber door. She lost track of time. She didn't notice the sky getting lighter with the morning rays of dawn. Time was a funny thing. She never knew the time, ever, only when one day ended and the next began. It felt strange not to be on some kind of schedule dictated by clocks. These peoples' lives were dictated by the rising and setting of the sun, not that she saw a sun. The sky grew lighter throughout the day and then grew darker. If she were braver, she might have taken advantage of her situation to explore this world. Instead she remained content to stay cloistered and observe her tiny surroundings through

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