And Nadine, Erin and Donny helped her. And for the first time since her father unceremoniously dumped her at the gates of this castle, she began to feel as if she belonged here.
Now she had to make Braedon see that she belonged here, and not just in his bed.
Day by day she had begun to chip past the reticence of the townspeople, first by showing them she could, indeed, work as their queen. They had begun to come to her for mundane things like petty disputes. Soon they opened their minds to the possibility of living again, of smiling again, of celebrating again.
Of having a king who smiled again.
How could they ever get beyond the ugliness of what happened to Braedon's father unless that past was relived without incident?
Tomorrow night would be the turning point.
She hoped Braedon would forgive her.
She hoped he would be happy with her for what she was about to do.
She hoped he understood she was doing so because she was growing to care for him.
If not, her future at Greenbriar would be dismal.
Chapter Eight
The tiny faeries in her stomach had turned into huge stomping dragons by the next evening. Fortunately, Braedon was otherwise distracted on guard-training business and had no idea what was going on, allowing her the time to deal with last-minute details such as food and drink and entertainment, then bathe and dress.
She hurried through her bath then stood in her bedchamber, uncertain what to wear for the festivities.
She had brought limited clothing with her for the trip, not thinking she would be staying permanently.
But her breath caught when she came out of the bathing chamber to find a gown lying on her bed and a hastily scrawled note from Nora, pronouncing it a gift from the seamstresses of the castle, thanking her for the gift of a party.
The castle seamstresses were goddesses of magical abilities, for lying on her bed was a gown of pale green silk shot through with threads of gold to match her wings. It stole her breath away with its beauty and even allowed for her wings to slide through the slits in the back. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away then dressed quickly, pulling her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. She put the matching slippers on, fluttering her wings excitedly, and hurried into the ballroom to oversee the last-minute preparations.
The room was a bustle of activity as food was set out and the minstrels prepared their music for the evening. Nearly everyone was in attendance, from the smallest child to the oldest adult. Trista's senses picked up the nervousness of everyone in attendance, especially those who were old enough to recall the last time a party was held in Greenbriar. She wished she could tell them the burden rested on her alone, that if Braedon ended up furious she would take full responsibility, but she knew it would not allay their fears.
'Twas then she realized they loved their king and wanted his happiness, wanted him to no longer feel the pain that had lived inside him since the night his father died. She wanted that too.
She spied Donny and Erin looking lost at the table of food, holding hands tightly. She knew they were both nervous about tonight, afraid of what Braedon's reaction would be. She hurried over to them and grasped their hands, then signaled the minstrels to begin playing music. Once the strains of song began, she knew that Braedon would hear and come investigate, but the time for trepidation was past.
"Shall we have some fun?" she asked, plastering on a happy smile despite the pounding of her heart.
Releasing some of her magic, she let golden dust burst around them. Donny's eyes widened and he laughed, jumping up and trying to capture the dust in his hand. Erin looked to her and grinned.
The music was lively and soon enough, raucous sounds of laughter began. It was not long before people were dancing, children were running, the townspeople were eating and joking and a full celebration was in force.
Trista wandered throughout the crowds, which had now spilled out into the courtyard, the ballroom filled to capacity. Jugglers entertained children and adults alike and ale was flowing as amply as water. Music and laughter resounded in the air and Trista beamed.
"What in all that is holy is going on here!"
And just as quickly, the entire courtyard and ballroom went silent as Braedon's distinctive bellow was heard above the loud noise of the celebration. Trista halted mid-stride and turned toward the sound of his voice. He approached her, his face red and twisted with anger.
She maintained a calm demeanor, refusing to battle with him tonight, knowing she would need to hold onto control. Now was not the time to anger him further. This was her gift to him and she must remember that. If it took every ounce of self-control she possessed, she would not let him raise her ire here this eve.
"Good evening, Braedon, and welcome to the celebration."
"Have you gone insane, woman? What do you think you are doing?" She spread her arms and smiled at him. "We are having a party."
"Why?"
"Because it is high time one is had at Greenbriar."
"I gave no authorization for a party."
Clasping her hands behind her back, she said, "As I recall, you informed me that any plans of such nature were to be made between Nadine and me. So we planned."
"That is not what I meant!"
"Really? How was I to know that?" She was doing a fine job holding her temper in, she thought.
"You knew exactly what I meant, dammit!"
He looked rather funny when he squinted like that, especially since no sun shined in the darkness of night. "I knew no such thing, Braedon. You are undoubtedly thirsty. How about some ale for you and your guards? It has been a trying day. And we have a feast of pheasant and fowl of other natures. Bread and cheese and--"
"Stop talking! I cannot think when you talk so much!" She would remember that for future arguments. Signaling one of the servants, the woman came forth with a tray of ale. Trista calmly took one of the cups and presented it to Braedon. "Here. Drink. You look thirsty."
Glaring at her, he took it from her and gulped the ale, then slammed the cup down on the tray, immediately grabbing another and doing the same.
"My, you are thirsty," she said, hoping he would drink several more in succession.
"This party is over."
"No, 'tis merely beginning."
"Celebrations are not allowed in Greenbriar."
A crowed had formed behind them and around them. A very quiet crowd who watched their discussion with rapt interest. And right next to her stood Erin and Donny.
"Braedon. I understand what transpired the last time a celebration was held at Greenbriar. My heart breaks for your loss. But do not fear all parties will result in the same. I beg of you, do not do this." She whispered the last so only he could hear.
He opened his mouth to speak, but instead Nadine's voice spoke beside him.
"Dance with your betrothed, Braedon."
Braedon turned his gaze on his aunt. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, son." Nadine signaled the minstrels to play with a short sweep of her hand. "Dance with your future queen. Now."
Though Trista had not spent long in Greenbriar, she had never heard the short, clipped, angry tone of Nadine's voice that she heard just now. From Braedon's wide-eyed look, he had not either.
When the music started, Braedon placed the empty cup on the serving platter and pulled Trista into his arms. Granted, he did it roughly, but he followed his aunt's command, frowning at the old woman who bore a smug, satisfied smile on her face. He continued to frown at her as he danced Trista into the ballroom, following the minstrels there. The crowed followed behind Trista and Braedon.
She did not quite understand what had transpired between Braedon and his aunt, but it struck her that it had been somewhat monumental. Either way, she was grateful for Nadine's command.
The party had truly begun.
Braedon fumed silently, still shocked by the tone of his aunt's voice, a tone she had not used since he was an errant child
. He would not embarrass her out of respect, but later he would have words with his betrothed.
"I cannot believe you did this without my permission."
"I sought only your pleasure, Braedon," she said, excitement and trepidation warring in her golden eyes.
"We all only want your happiness."
"I am happy with the way things are."
Her smile did not reach her eyes. "No, you are not. You are caught up in the pain of the past, a pain that has you in its grip and refuses to let go. You will never be happy until you put it behind you."
"You know nothing of which you speak, Trista. Leave it alone."
"I know more than you think."
"You were not here when it happened," he said, looking beyond her to the smiling faces, remembering that night so long ago when there was a similar celebration. Only then, his mother and father were here, laughing and dancing and enjoying the night's festivities. Until the wizards came. Then there was blood and screaming and swords and fighting. Then there were lightning bolts of pain and his father lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Then the celebration and the laughter died, never to return to Greenbriar.
"When you lose your focus, people die. It is always best to be prepared."
"Bah. You and your guards are well prepared. You can relax a bit. All castles are prepared for inside attacks now, Braedon. Besides, you have me now and I have magic," she said with a wink and a grin.
He laughed. "You are a child and know nothing of these things. You can do nothing to help."
"I can help you fight the wizards. My people have done it before. My sisters have helped."
"You cannot help me. With this party or with warfare against the wizards. You are a small woman who knows nothing of life or of pain."
Her smile disappeared. "And you are a cold-hearted fool who is blind to those who love you. You might at least open your eyes and see your brother and sister before they are lost to you forever." What was she trying to say to him? "So you are saying they alone love me?"
"Well, do not look at me, for I can never love a man whose heart is so closed to love." She stilled and pushed away from him. For the first time he noticed her tears were golden. "I am not a child, Braedon. I am a woman with a woman's heart and a woman's pain. Please do not tell me that I do not know what it means to feel pain. Your words cut me and I bleed. And it hurts. Please do enjoy the celebration for your people went to much trouble to put it together. And look at your brother and sister, before it is too late for you."
Before he could say anything, she backed away and slipped into the crowd. He started to go after her, but something she said made him turn and search the crowd. He spied Donny and Erin laughing and dancing with a crowd of strangers. Their joy pulled at his heart. That they felt such happiness without him hurt. Surprisingly, it hurt.
"Yes, they still love you."
He turned to find Nadine beside him. "I am surprised they even know me."
"You would be surprised by many things if you would only open your eyes."
"Such as?"
"That I love you, that Erin and Donny love you."
Nadine threaded her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. "And Trista loves you too."
"I cannot love anyone."
"And why is that?" she asked.
"Because I must concentrate on protecting all my people. Love is...distracting." Nadine laughed and kissed his cheek, then forced him to look at her. "Silly boy. It is well past time that you get over losing your parents. Yes it was heartbreaking, but loving someone does not mean losing them. You have always been very smart in military matters. Now it is time to be very wise and use the same intelligence on matters of your heart."
"I am not sure what you mean."
"Open your eyes, Braedon. And more importantly," she said, laying her hand on his chest, "open your heart."
She inclined her head toward the far end of the ballroom then walked away.
He looked at Erin and Donny, watching them laughing and enjoying themselves with strangers.
Strangers. Not family, not him, but strangers, dancing with his sister and playing with his little brother.
Several of his guard were talking to Donny. Donny looked up at them with stark admiration in his eyes.
He eyed their battle gear and their swords with great awe. Erin was dancing gaily with a young man from a fine family, the boy's parents watching closely.
Braedon realized he knew nothing of his brother and sister, had not involved himself in either their upbringing or their lives in any way.
Striding toward them, he stopped first in front of Erin. The young boy she danced with backed away quickly, bowing his head. Erin's cheeks colored a bright pink and she dropped her chin to her chest.
Did she think he would berate her for something?
He realized he had no idea how to even begin.
"You look...very pretty tonight, Erin."
Her head shot up and her eyes widened. "I do?"
"Yes. May I have this dance?"
Her smile made her eyes brighten. At that moment she reminded him of their mother. He told her so as he swept her into his arms and moved her into the center of the ballroom. Her cheeks pinkened.
"Thank you, Braedon. People say I look like Mother. It makes me very happy to think so. I wondered if you would be upset to think I looked like her."
"And why do you think that would upset me?"
"Because if I reminded you of her it would make you sad. I never want to make you sad. You have already had enough sadness in your life."
His heart tore in two. For years he had ignored her, yet she still cared about him, still loved him. He did not deserve it. He pressed his palm to her cheek. "Sweet Erin. I love you and I beg your forgiveness for not being as attentive as I should have been. You are growing into such a beautiful young lady. So much like our mother I can see I will have to keep a much closer watch on you lest some young man thinks to sweep you away before I am ready to let you go."
She smiled, her face beaming with light and happiness. He danced her over to the young man and kissed her hand, then bowed before her, turning next to his little brother. "Donny, come here." Donny scurried over. "I did not do it, Braedon. And if I did, I promise not to do it again." Braedon tried not to smile. "I see. I understand you have a fascination with swords." Donny looked at his shoes. "The sword was just lying there. I did not know it belonged to you. I promise not to touch it again."
Braedon's lips quirked but he hid it behind his hand. "I see. What do you think we should do about this, Donny?"
Donny kept his gaze down. "I do not know. I am sorry, Braedon. It was a very nice sword and I polished it like your guard told me to. It was very heavy too."
"I believe I know exactly what we should do. Tomorrow morning you will report to Gerard for military exercises and begin your training."
Donny's head shot up and his eyes widened. "Really, Braedon?"
"Aye. You are plenty old enough. But you must take your training seriously and do everything Gerard tells you. Understand?"
"Oh yes. Thank you, Braedon!"
The boy rushed up and threw his arms around Braedon's middle. Braedon choked back emotion and ruffled Donny's hair, realizing he should have been this child's father figure from birth. He had been failing miserably in his duties for years.
That would stop here and now.
"You did well," Nadine said later after the party began to dissipate.
"I have been a fool," Braedon said, nursing his cup of ale. "It took an outsider like Trista to point it out to me."
"Aye. That it did. And you owe her the biggest apology of all."
"Where is she?" he asked.
"I do not know. She has been avoiding you all night." And like the coward he was, he did not even look for her, knowing he needed to speak to her but wanting to put it off as long as possible. But now he could no longer avoid saying what needed to be said. "I am not very good at putting emotions into words.
Whenever I open my mouth, I seem to insult her."
"You did a very fine job with Erin and Donny," Nadine said. "Just speak from your heart with Trista too."
He nodded and went in search of her, having no idea what it was he would say when he found her.
Chapter Nine
Once again Trista stood in the cool, calming forest of D'Naath, wondering if this time she shouldn't just make the long trek back to her castle, despite the fact it would take several days to get there.
Would her father welcome her or would he send her back to Braedon? Somehow she knew going back to her father would only result in him sending her back to Greenbriar.
Back to Braedon.
She sighed and sat on the grass, lifting her skirt to tickle her toes at the water's edge. She looked up at the moon, wishing it would provide answers. Instead, the silvery orb stared silently back at her.
It seemed no matter what she tried to do, she would never be able to please Braedon. He thought her immature, foolish, a child.
Oh he enjoyed fucking her, of course. Then he thought her a woman. But when it came time to talk with her, to treat her as his queen, he berated or belittled her. No more. She could not live with a man who treated her so. She would not subject herself to his constant insults.
It was time to stop hiding in the forest and live with the way things would be. This was her punishment for her foolishness, for trying to help her sister. Now she had sealed her own fate and had fallen in love with a man who did not love her back. She had done exactly what she swore she would not do. Braedon had no feelings for her other than lust. And lust died, like leaves on a vine when winter breezed in and stole the life from it.
That is what he would do to her. Her love and happiness would wither and die under the hot sun of Greenbriar and she could do nothing about it.
And she could blame no one but herself, her own folly.
Tears slid down her cheeks and she swiped them away, standing up and drying her toes in the soft grass.
'Twas time to stop feeling sorry for herself and act like a woman grown. She would be queen and she would love her people. If Braedon did not care for and love his brother and sister, then she would be mother to them both. She had plenty to love and to love her back, even if the king did not share his heart with her.