Chapter 3
Anna pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she slipped out the side door and picked her way through the snow towards the distant corner of the gardens. The air was frigid, and Anna curled her hands into fists within her mittens in an effort to maintain the warmth in her fingers. Before her the gardens were covered in a shimmering blanket of silver-white, while behind her the pristine covering had been marred by the trail of her fur-lined feet pushing through the snow, a record of her passing. The trees had long since lost their leaves, and hoar frost clung to the bare branches, the delicate feathering sparkling in the weak rays of winter sun and presenting a stark contrast against the deep blue of the sky. Silence hung in the air, with just the faintest voice occasionally drifting on a wayward breeze from the direction of the towering heap of stone that formed the walls of Storbrook Castle. To Anna, the walls of Storbrook seemed at times to be more like a prison than a sanctuary, and it was at these times that she felt the need to escape the thick walls, dark passages, and smoky halls. Treading through the snow, Anna filled her lungs with the cold air, then released it slowly, watching as it hung in a small cloud for a moment before dissipating. Peace flooded her mind with each breath, blowing away the dark, depressing thoughts which so often plagued her.
There was a wooden bench in the far corner of the garden, and it was to this that Anna made her way. The seat of the bench was buried under three inches of snow, smooth and unspoiled until Anna swiped her hand through the thick powder and pushed it onto the ground below. She sat down cautiously – the seat of the bench was cold – before slowly relaxing against the backrest. At her approach, a robin had flown into the branches of a nearby tree, but after a few moments it fluttered back to the ground, foraging around the base of the tree as Anna watched. The winter sun was shining feebly on the glittering landscape, and Anna lifted her face so she could feel the warming rays on her cheeks. She closed her eyes and allowed the serenity of the moment to filter through her mind.
A shout in the distant courtyard startled her, nudging open the door that held back the memories of her abduction the previous autumn. They no longer had the power to terrify her, as they had at first, but they still managed to bring a mild sense of panic. She had been nothing more than a tool in Edmund’s hands – an opportunity for him to exact his revenge against Keira for her rejection, and when Anna had stumbled across his path that fateful day, he had seen in her the means by which he could obtain his retribution. Anna no longer recalled the individual events of that terrible afternoon, at least not in her waking hours. The way he had dragged her, pulling her stumbling through the woods, was now just a blur, but she could not forget the terror that had gripped her that day. And although she could not recall the exact moment when Aaron had arrived, pulling Edmund from her, she remembered the flood of relief when she realized she was free from him, and that her persecutor was dead.
It had been Aaron that had saved her life that day, but in the deep recesses of her mind Anna could not help blaming him and Keira for all that had happened. After all, it was Keira’s rejection of Edmund that had made him focus on Anna. And surely Aaron should have realized her predicament sooner. If he had, she would not have suffered as much. And not just Aaron and Keira. Perhaps if Father had spoken more forcefully against Edmund, once he realized Edmund’s true character, events would have played out differently.
But it was Mother’s actions that hurt the most. Long before he set his sights on Anna, Edmund had attacked Keira, but Mother had clung to the belief that the son of her dead friend was a man worth defending, even when it meant denying her own daughter. Perhaps if Mother had stood by Keira, Edmund would not have persisted in his belief that she belonged to him. And Mother still did not know how evil Edmund truly was. Father had chosen to protect her by keeping her in ignorance of the terrible events that had affected Anna so deeply, and so she knew nothing about Edmund’s plan to kill her daughter. Father knew Mother would be devastated that the son of her closest friend could have done such terrible things. Edmund’s mother had died years earlier, but as she lay on her death bed, Mary had begged Mother to watch over her boys. Anna guessed that if Mother admitted Edmund’s true character, she would feel that she had failed her friend. Her thoughts returned to the attack, and she shivered slightly. Anna could still remember the feeling of helplessness she had felt when Edmund had taken her; the surety that she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. She never wanted to feel that helpless again. Never wanted to find herself at the mercy of a man again.
Anna clenched her teeth, grinding them together in annoyance at where her thoughts were leading her. All this reflective thinking was making her miserable once more, and Anna was sick and tired of feeling miserable. She wanted to leave all of this behind her, but where could she go? She knew she could never go back to life in her little village. She had outgrown it, somehow. The girls she had grown up with seemed silly and immature now, thinking only about boys, marriage, and children.
If she was honest with herself, Anna had to admit that in unguarded moments she wondered what it would be like to be in love. To have a man love you the way Aaron loved Keira. But then she would remember how the actions of a man had made her suffer so much, and she would push the thoughts away. There was no point chasing after a rainbow that only promised an illusion of happiness. She would never be able to trust a man enough to spend the rest of her life with him. She would rather remain a spinster forever. When she had told Keira, her sister was horrified.
“But Anna,” she had remonstrated, “you cannot measure the behavior of all men against that of Edmund. His actions were not the norm, and he received his just desserts for his behavior.”
“Are you so sure?” Anna had retorted. “What about Widower Brown? Some say he murdered his last wife, although I’m not sure how he managed that since he is barely ever sober. And Gwyn’s father beats her mother.”
“Yes, but look at Father,” Keira pointed out. “He has never raised an angry hand to Mother, and Aaron would never hurt me.”
“Two, Keira!” Anna had shot back. “You can only name two worthy men! And Aaron doesn’t count! So one man. That is hardly a glowing recommendation!”
“There are plenty of others, Anna,” Keira had argued, but Anna remained unconvinced.
“Maybe there are, Keira, but I would prefer not to risk my future happiness on that chance.”
Anna shivered again as a slight breeze ruffled her hair. Although it was still early afternoon, the sun was already dropping towards the western horizon, giving way in defeat to the long winter night that followed closely on its heels. Her toes were starting to feel numb through the thick fur-lined boots that wrapped around her feet, and she wiggled them against their confines to get the blood moving once again. Pushing herself up from the bench, she retraced her footsteps, the light glowing in the windows of the castle a beacon that promised a warm fire to chase away the chill.