The Mad Raven's Tale (The Accarian Chronicles Book 1) by Andrew Walbrown (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📕

“Very well, my lady,” Jaga said with a half-bow and followed the others to the armory.

Amantius turned and saw Morganna standing only a few steps away. The butterflies that had been sleeping in his stomach had suddenly awakened, filling Amantius with a child-like nervousness. She smiled at him, the dimples appearing on both sides of her face, reducing the world to just the two of them and no one else. In the back of his mind, Amantius knew others were nearby, specifically her bodyguards, but he did not care.

“M-m-my, my lady,” Amantius stuttered while awkwardly bowing too far, too fast.

“Relax, Amantius,” she said, gently grabbing his arm, the same smile on her crimson lips. “I am only human.”

You’re a goddess. Amantius thought. He focused on her hand, her thumb gently caressing his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He felt himself blush, red swelling his cheeks. Keep it together, man! You’re making yourself look like a fool in front of her.

“Walk with me, will you?” Morganna said, wrapping her arm around his, pulling herself closer. Amantius could smell strawberries on her breath, the aroma sapping his legs of their strength.

Amantius walked with Morganna through the fortress, arms interlocked, as though he was escorting her to a royal banquet. As they walked in silence he focused his eyes on the Great Hall, not wanting to give the appearance of a love-struck fool. But at one point his will faded, and when he turned to her he saw she had been staring at him the whole time.

“You have been here for quite some time now,” Morganna said as she looked up at him, her beautiful dark eyes melting his heart. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Now I am,” Amantius blurted out, embarrassment quickly settling in.

Morganna giggled. It was soft, angelic. “Oh?”

“What I, what I mean is,” Amantius began to stutter again. Keep it together, Amantius. You look like a dolt. “Now that I have my mobility back and my muscles don’t scream at me, I am enjoying this place more. I don’t like being inactive.” Good recovery.

“I understand that,” Morganna replied, “I have noticed you have been more active lately. Helping clear the leaves, helping with other chores. My followers have spoken highly of you.”

“They have?” Amantius felt good knowing that he was impressing people close to Morganna. More important to him, though, was that she admitted noticing his actions lately. Her sudden admission overwhelmed him with excitement. So she is watching me.

“But of course. We are a small community, in many ways we are simply one large family.” Her smile disappeared for a second, replaced with a quick flash of pure hatred, before her countenance returned to an angelic glow. Amantius saw the sudden change and recoiled, but not enough for Morganna to notice. Though he had never been more attracted to any woman he had ever laid eyes upon, there was something about that moment that unsettled him deeply. Just now, she reminded him of someone he had met before.

“But family cannot always be trusted,” Morganna said, sadness filling her words. “For some, they are everything. You stand by them against the world, would do anything for them.”

Pale skin.

“However, that is not the case for everyone. Take my family for instance. When I was still a girl, my family was strong. Nothing could hurt us, tear us apart.” Morganna stopped, stared at the entrance to the Great Hall before them. “But all that ended when Mother died. Father grew delirious, violent even.”

Dark eyes. They’re so dark, almost black even. It could just be the lighting.

“But he was still a good man. He did not deserve to be killed. Murdered.” Morganna’s words were heavy with longing, though there was an element of anger lurking in them as well. “Especially by his own son. My own brother.”

Brother? An image floated in his mind, a man’s face. The answer to his question was so obvious now, hitting him like a kick to the gut. No, it cannot be! 

“You know him.” Morganna continued, her grip strengthening around Amantius’ arm. He flinched as her nails dug into his skin. “He is your employer, the man you fought for. The man whose claim so many have died defending.”

“Count Aldamar!” Amantius spat the words from his mouth as though they were poison resting on his tongue. A thousand thoughts shot this his mind, like a barrage of arrows, each with a different question attached. Morganna is Aldamar’s sister? He murdered their father? How can this be?

“Yes, Aldamar,” Morganna replied, her voice surprisingly calm. “I refuse to give him the title, though. I am sure you can understand.”

“I never liked him, I knew there was something evil about him,” Amantius replied, the words flowing like water from behind a broken dam. “I could tell the moment I met him.” What of Ulam? If he is still alive, he would still be in Silverwater. By the Gods! How could we have been so blind!? I need to go back, I need to rescue him.

“Well, unfortunately not everyone is as astute as you.” Morganna continued, tracing his bicep with a finger. “He has fooled many throughout the years, no more so than the people of Silverwater. That is why I fight, Amantius.” She broke away, walked to the steps of the Great Hall, and turned.

“I fight so that someday I can liberate those poor souls under his rule.” Morganna began, her voice louder, as though the world was her audience. “When he has been defeated, and defeated he shall be, I will welcome an era of peace and prosperity for Silverwater County. Something this land has not seen in many years.”

A couple of the veterans milling about echoed her sentiments before returning to their tasks. Amantius turned and saw Jaga coming towards him, wearing a full set of armor, looking the part of a warchief. His cloak was long, reaching the ground, a mix of gray and black fibers. It had been made from the pelt of a