“Please find him, Fletcher. Oh please, please find him.”
While there were many things he could have done, Fletcher know he could not disobey the Baroness. For more reason than one. Perhaps more important than the fact she had commanded it (asked it, pleaded it) was the knowledge that her son was likely at the orphanage.
There were many children to save. Fletcher rushed there with no hesitation. And while he helped them evacuate, he learnt something terrible.
He was not there. Neither were Winter and Summer. Dahlia. The boy Golden. A few other children. They had gone further toward the shore to play.
The day caught on fire.
There was no warning. The people went through their motions. Nemissa prepared her report to be sent to the marquis, comforted in the knowledge she had successfully protected her position. She may have married the Baron, but she would not be removed. Maybe not even for her son. He would do well in the future.
What a future it was. Tumelo came to her, not even excusing Fletcher from where he sat in the corner proofreading for her.
“My lady, there are unknown ships in the distance.”
Curious, Nemissa grabbed her scope and advanced on the window. Putting it up to an eye, she tried to spot them.
Instead, she heard Tumelo gasp at the same moment a loud explosion occurred. Pulling it away, she looked down upon the town of Castlehaven.
Where is my son? came her first thought.
But she encompassed that concern in the larger picture. “Hurry! We must defend!”
If only she could.