Enchained (Enchained Trilogy book 1)

Chapter 13 Guilt's Conscience

My face stings as raindrops stab my cold skin, despite how numb it feels from being out in the chill, moist air. Harsh breaths form before me, matching each step my flying feet take as I run the path in the outdoor courtyard of the manor, my heavy boots squishing into the soaked lawn that resembles a pond more than a mowed quadrangle of silky grass. The wind kicks up. My body screams at me to give in to the chill and go back inside, but I push myself to run faster, lifting my feet higher and smashing them into the ground, leaving jagged footprints in the soggy mess of the courtyard and ignoring the bits of mud that splatter on the sides of my boots, forming oval splotches. Rain pelts my bare shoulders, and for a fleeting moment, I remember that I should have worn my jacket, but shake my head because I do not want to get it dirty.

Thunder rolls through the clouds. The rainy season has arrived. I push harder. With each circle I make on the track, my steps splash harder in the water, sending droplets of brown water into the air, soaking the bottoms of my pants. I ignore the cold. I ignore the pain of the stabbing rain. My mind refuses to calm itself, to stop harboring the images of the infant. In vain, I tried to sleep last night, but sleep eluded me, flirting with me, allowing me a few blissful moments of dozing before jerking me awake and teasing me, reminding me of the way a cat toys with its prey before delivering the final stroke. If only I could have been allowed to close my eyes, but each time I did, I saw the infant's frightened face.

I run faster.

My arms swing at sharp angles by my side as I extend my legs, forming long strides to obey my demands. The rain pours, shielding me from prying eyes, preventing me from looking upon the city I am sworn to serve—to protect. But I failed to protect—it was a plebeian child. I upheld the law. I did as I was trained. So, why is there this gnawing sense of guilt pushing against the barriers of my mind, begging to be released?

I run even faster.

My lungs burn for air and scream at me to stop, to let them breathe and give them a rest. I cannot rest. I must keep running. Running keeps my mind occupied. It prevents me from dwelling on recent events. My foot slips on the slick grass and I lose my balance, tumbling forward, and I roll across the ground, getting covered in water and grass clippings, despite my feeble attempts to catch myself. Curtains of rain surround me, enveloping me as I lay on the ground in a puddle that stretches from my nose to my ankles, and mud oozes over my back while bits of it fall from my chin.

Soft plops echo in front of me. I look up and watch as the toes of a pair of black boots materialize in front of me, challenging the weather to do its worse. A hand appears before my eyes, opened in a welcoming gesture. I take it and a strong arm heaves me from my embarrassment on the ground and to my feet, while another hand wraps a jacket around my muddied shoulders.

"Not the best weather for a run, is it?"

The kindness in Renal's voice startles me. I have never heard him sound harsh, but nor has he ever sounded this benevolent, as though he cared about what became of me.

"I'm just trying to stay in shape," I say.

"Come."

I do not argue, not that I believe I am in any position to put up much of a fight, so I allow him to guide me over to an awning that is a few feet away from the nearest door into the manner, but protects us from the sky's furious tears.

"I have found myself out here on many occasion when I feel restless."

"I'm not restless," I snap.

In response, Renal gives me a doubtful look and raises an eyebrow, telling me that I am not fooling him.

"There comes a time in every arbiter's life when they start to be plagued by the faces they meet."

"You mean the people we detain."