The Road to Port Haven (Chapter 4­, page 1 of 9)


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Kara awoke with a smile on her lips, feeling as though she had slept the night within the safe and comforting embrace of Roman's arms. The dawn told a different tale; the day was grey and overcast, the room and but for herself, her bed empty. But for the time being the feel of his touch seemed to linger, and she lay in bed awhile trying to recapture the sensation of being so close to him.

Yet a cold thrill of fear pushed any thought of comfort from her mind as she remembered that her father was coming, would one day arrive at the doorstep to this house and claim her. She thought of flight once more but the very notion seemed tired and meaningless. She tried directing her thoughts to the future, a future that held a life for her at the convent, perhaps. But try as she might, all that came to mind was an image of hollow, empty blackness. And in that moment, a fateful resolve came over her that should she be faced with losing her freedom to her father, she would take her own life, either by diving off the ship and swimming towards the bottom and oblivion, or by throwing herself off the high balcony of her father's home in Athens. Either method was sure to succeed, and both escapes, she knew, would become available to her.

Not a fatalist by nature, however, she thought of the road to Port Haven and considered secreting herself there until her father gave up the chase and left Isla Fiero. Perhaps Anana could help her? Would she?

Oh, why did the Castellans not consider helping her? Were they afraid? She couldn't imagine Roman or his mother fearing anyone. Was it that they felt bound by outdated and harmful codes of social conduct? But no, the Castellans seemed to make and live by their own rules. They were certainly of higher moral character than her father! And why would Roman and his mother want to meet her father? Was is that they doubted her word? Or that they felt compelled to make answer for her presence here?

A guest, Señora Castellan had called her. She felt more like a prisoner awaiting execution!

She got dressed and went downstairs to discover the house empty. The reason became clear when she heard voices coming from outside, and peeking through a window from behind the curtain, saw that the others were sitting in the back garden with Camilla and her parents.

Having no appetite for food or conversation, she used the service entrance behind the kitchen as she had done before, and wandered aimlessly toward her favourite grassy knoll in the lakeside meadow. The day was overcast and windy, and she lay down on the grass to avoid the brunt of the chill air.

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