Chapter 007 Inheritance

Month 1 Week 2

The Matriarchy – The Matriarchal Palace

“Matriarch” Dara wanted to scream at the outrage of it. “Please, Matriarch.” Through the agonizing shame and fury, Dara wondered if it would hurt less if she ripped the old woman, who had just destroyed her life, limb from limb. “You can’t.” She had tried to be forceful, exert her rights. But she knew that it only barely came out on the bitter side of petulant. The petulance was only emphasized more by the setting of this final humiliation, the opulent Grand Hall of the Freyan Matriarch.

“It is already done. You have been proven innocent of Witchcraft. But you are still accused of Necromancy, and are still guilty of magical assault and maligning the name of your aunt’s husband, and the restitution is far too high for you to pay. Your aunt Attricia, the wife of your victim, has graciously agreed to loan you the money needed for both your debt and for a start to your new life in exile. You will repay her with interest. Be grateful that the ruling of the Magi has granted you this chance to earn your life. You are lucky you were not burned at the stake. You may yet still be. 

Begone from my sight.” The wrinkled old face sniffed down her nose at Dara as if she were nothing more than a distasteful bit of food dropped in the way. Turning away with no more concern for the devastated woman before her, the matriarch left Dara to her fate knowing that the servants and guards would enforce the decree.

Larel sighed as Dara tried not to storm or stalk off, shaking from repressed emotion. Her shoulders were slumped and her movements jumpy. Though the Matriarch had believed Dara, she knew that the rest of the Great Houses would demand that the girl be punished for ‘seducing’ those ‘good men’. Especially after the accusations that Attricia’s husband had brought of Dara being part Nefhilim or at the very least wielding forbidden magic.

Unfair as it was, Dara was just too irresistible for her own good. It was bullshit. It was unfair. As soon as she was properly alone, Laurel intended to scream and rail at the Gods for this betrayal of her faith.

“Well, that went rather better than it could have.” Attricia sidled out from a discrete alcove near her great-grandmother’s sitting room, indolently tossing a thick lock of ebony curls over one slim shoulder.

“Have a little sympathy child.” Just this woman’s presence had the ability to inspire migraines of shocking proportion in the Matriarch. “She’s more a victim than that oily husband of yours.”

“True.” The younger woman conceded with only a slight pouting furrow of her perfect pixie features before smoothing out to a sultry smile. “But this solution works for everyone.” The Matriarch’s smothered scoff almost had Attricia’s frown back for a moment, but the woman conquered it quickly in favor of studied unconcern.

“She is not the kind of woman a man wants for a wife Matriarch. No man in his right mind would pay a decent bride price for a wife so unconsciously seductive that she’s a white-hot beacon to other men. Why do you think Vincent chose me instead?” She paused briefly then added as an afterthought. 

“Besides my money.”

“Is that so?” Larel was disgusted at Attricia’s disregard for Dara’s plight.

“Yes. Men, rich men, want a wife that makes other men jealous. They don’t want a wife that makes other men out of their minds with lust. Oh no. That just wouldn’t do for the type of jealous, possessive men we Freyan women cultivate. And that would have been Dara’s fate if she were to remain in the city? Even if she did marry, she’d have her pick of suitors for affairs.”

“You’re right.” Another bitter sigh escaped Larel’s aged lips before she could stop the frustration which had caused it. “But I don’t have to pretend I like it.”

“Oh yes you do.” Attricia scolded. “Our plan won’t work if anyone believes that you or I are on her side.” She arched one finely sculpted eyebrow as she had taught her daughter to do and added a wry quirk of her lips to indicate her humor. “It’s only expected that I would loan her the money, it’s just good business to bet on family…with magic. Remember, you only agreed to this trial because she is the daughter of your treasured grandson, and you wanted the whole sordid affair over with.” Larel snorted at how her’s and Attricia’s roles had reversed.

The Matriarch held out a hand to Attricia for assistance while using a gilded cane in the other to lift herself out of her seat. “I can’t help feeling as if I’ve condemned her to die.”

“The terms of the loan give her two years before she hasto make her first payment,” Attricia assured her monarch. “We’ve done the best thing for her that we could under the circumstances what with the way those anarchists from the Men’s Liberation Party are stirring up trouble all over the capital. 

They’d have a field day if you let a woman known to have magic who had allegedly overpowered a man, go unpunished. At least she’ll be able to study magic in peace now.”

“I’ve set her free to live her own life away from the family. Somehow, I don’t think that Dara will see it that way at all. And if she knows what’s good for her, she will flee to another country the second she has a chance. But if she has any sense of loyalty she’ll see how much was risked to give her this opportunity. Now…” The Matriarch arranged her features into a semblance of weary disdain. “…help an old woman to Council where I shall explain how much I just wanted this whole sordid affair over with.”