Miranna flounced over with Temerson and Semari in tow, attired in the iridescent pale blue gown we’d chosen. It seemed to float as she moved and was cut with a more daring bodice than was typical for her, another reminder that she was growing up. Her hair had begun the evening meticulously styled but was now coming loose, its coiling tresses framing her delicate features; somehow, though, her golden tiara mounted with shimmering opals remained in place. I greeted Miranna and her best friend with a kiss on the cheek, while Steldor clapped Temerson on the back so heartily that the poor boy took a stumbling step forward. My sister, excited almost beyond reason, easily became the center of attention as she chatted incessantly until it was time for dinner to be served.
When we moved to the linen-covered table, Steldor, as the King, took his seat at the head, with me on his left and Galen on his right. As the rest of the company took their places, I looked to where my father sat at the far end of the table across from Baron Koranis and his wife, Baroness Alantonya, Semari’s parents, an arrangement I favored, for it placed him as far away from me as possible.
Throughout the meal, Steldor was a perfect gentleman, charming our guests with his quick wit. I spoke little, giving the impression of a polite but reserved Queen and, I thought dryly, of a biddable wife. My mother smiled at me often, perhaps convinced that I had taken her advice to give in to fate and was, therefore, content in my role, even if I was not happy. As dinner drew to a close, my father caught Steldor’s eye, then stood at the King’s nod to make an announcement.
“My good friends.” He beamed, glancing around the table. “Many of you are my family, by blood or by marriage. Others I have known for so long that should justice be done, you would be counted among their numbers.”
At this, Koranis straightened in his chair, as though he and his family had just made an impressive rise in status.
“It is with high spirits on this nineteenth day of June that I announce our hope and intention to welcome the remaining guests into our family. Lieutenant Garrek and I have spoken, and I have granted permission for young Lord Temerson to court my daughter, Princess Miranna.”
Miranna gave an unladylike squeal that I would have mimicked had we been in a less formal setting. She quickly covered her mouth, her cheeks turning pink, but the rest of us forgave her lapse in manners in light of the joy in her eyes. She turned to Temerson, meeting his bashful gaze with a brilliant smile, and relief flooded his face, as though he’d been unsure how she would react to this development.
I was delighted for the blissful couple, but there was an undertone to my emotion that took a moment for me to identify, a pang of what could only be envy. London had once told me that the way Narian and I looked at each other made it obvious that we were in love, and I now understood what he had meant.
“Shall we adjourn to the garden?” Steldor asked, rising to his feet.
The mid-June evening was warm but with a refreshing breeze. Steldor extended his arm to escort me, and though simple courtesy dictated he do so, I had the impression that our earlier disagreement was behind us. Before I could assent, however, Faramay came over to clutch at his arm.
“I thought we might walk together, darling,” she chirped. “That is, of course, if the Queen doesn’t mind.”
Somewhat wary of the consequences that might result from denying this besotted mother access to her son, I acceded with an apologetic glance at Steldor. He smiled wryly, succumbing to the inevitable.
I scanned the room, feeling rather lost without the King to escort me, and saw Cannan and Baelic in conversation with each other. My attention was captured by the sight, for the usually stern Captain of the Guard was laughing and joking with his much more affable younger brother. Cannan glanced up at that moment, probably searching for his wife, and his expression soured when he spotted her with Steldor. He pointed this out to Baelic, who patted Cannan on the shoulder with a hearty laugh, muttering something that made his older brother roll his eyes for the second time that evening. To my chagrin, they caught my stare, and I hastily shifted my attention elsewhere.
A moment or two passed before I heard someone approach, and I looked up to see Baelic, dark as the other men in his family, offering me his arm and his friendly grin.
“Unlike the rest of us, Steldor’s mother is having some difficulty letting him go,” he said puckishly. “May I escort you in his stead?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied, surprised but not disappointed. I had guessed that one of the gentlemanly brothers would come to accompany me but had expected it to be Cannan. Instead, Cannan was with Lania, Baelic’s wife, who seemed to be quite content in his company.
I took Baelic’s arm and we followed after the others toward the rear of the palace and the garden. As we walked, my new uncle leaned closer to me.
“I have heard from a very reliable source that you on occasion enjoy horseback riding,” he confided.
I smiled uneasily, wondering what he intended by this comment.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Your Highness,” he chided. “I’m the cavalry officer, remember? I could get you an entire herd of horses, if that were your desire, right under Cannan’s and Steldor’s noses.”
“What are you suggesting?” I queried, caught between skepticism and mirth.
“I simply wish to make it known that, though my dear nephew and my darling brother are trapped within traditional minds, I often go riding with Shaselle and my son, Celdrid. We would be most honored to have the Queen join us someday.”
“Shaselle rides?” I asked, my eyes widening at the thought of tasting forbidden fruit, but also curious about his daughter.
“Yes, Lania and I often wonder if she wasn’t meant to be a boy.” Baelic drew me off to one side of the back entry to finish the discussion before we exited the palace. “Lania hates it that I indulge her, but I’d go mad if someone tried to keep me from riding, so I can’t refuse my own daughter.”
“She must adore you,” I said, for I was feeling giddy at his generous and highly irregular offer. Few men would have been tolerant enough, or interested enough, to provide a daughter with the opportunity he so casually gave to Shaselle.
“She’s closer to me than she is to her mother,” he allowed. Then his crooked grin signaled a return to the topic with which he had begun. “All you have to do is send word, and you’ll be in the saddle—without my nephew in pursuit.”
He winked, and I suspected that Cannan, who obviously had a close relationship with his brother, had relayed to him the tale of my horseback riding misadventure. I could hardly be annoyed that my father-in-law had passed the information along to my uncle, considering the result. It also occurred to me that this could be my chance to take advantage of the gift Baelic had extended on my wedding day—his readiness to tell me those things about Steldor that even Cannan didn’t know.
“Thank you. Be assured that I will call upon you.”
“I will wait breathlessly to hear from you,” he teased, motioning me across the threshold and into the garden. With a slight bow, he finished, “If you will grant me leave, I should like to continue antagonizing my brother.”
“By all means,” I said, laughing out loud, and he went to join Cannan, my father, Koranis and Garrek, who stood a short distance down the path to my right, enjoying the spicy mulled wine that had been served.
The older women had again come together and were likewise enjoying the wine and some pleasant conversation. Down the path that lay ahead of me, Galen, Steldor, Temerson and the young ladies had come together. Steldor’s bodyguard for the evening, Tadark, was hanging off his elbow, while Halias more discreetly maintained a polite distance from my sister. Temerson was looking rather dejected; I supposed he’d assumed that once he was courting Miranna, Steldor would stop toying with her affections, but such was not the case. Galen, too, was flirting shamelessly, and all the young ladies were giggling at their witticisms. Although I knew Temerson had won my sister’s heart, doubt nagged at me as to his ability to fulfi
ll the role of her husband, for I did not know if he would ever be able to hold his own among such company.
Finding the prospect of enduring my husband’s popularity unappealing, I chose to join my mother, Faramay, Alantonya, Lania and Lady Tanda, who was Lieutenant Garrek’s wife and Temerson’s mother. I soon regretted my decision, for their topic of conversation was one with which I was not comfortable, but it was too late to turn back without seeming rude.
“Koranis absolutely forbids that we speak his name,” Baroness Alantonya was confiding as I neared, sounding sad and worried. “It’s worse than before he returned, when we believed him to be dead. But I cannot act like we never had another son, and the knowledge that he’s alive somewhere eats at me, and… Your Highness.”
Alantonya trailed off as she took note of me, and she dropped into a generous curtsey. The other women did the same, although Faramay’s eyes constantly flicked toward Steldor. She appeared to be monitoring his every movement, providing me with a further understanding of Steldor’s reaction to her.
“Perhaps Alera could offer you some reassurance,” my mother said, picking up the thread of their conversation, and clearly ignorant of my true relationship with Alantonya’s eldest son. “She was good friends with Narian, and may be able to ease your mind.”
Alantonya’s hopeful azure eyes wrenched my heart, and I struggled to maintain a collected front. I didn’t want to have to talk of Narian in this company; my lingering feelings for him made it painful to utter his name. Yet I could not ignore the agony on the baroness’s face that was so similar to my own.
“Narian… I don’t know why Narian left, or where he went,” I managed, and her expression faded into disappointment. “But I believe he may yet return to Hytanica—at least we know he hasn’t gone to Cokyri. If it’s any consolation, he always spoke kindly of you, and I’m certain he knows that you care for him, wherever he is.”
My words, unenlightening though they were, seemed to soothe her, and she thanked me wholeheartedly before addressing another of her concerns.
“Koranis also won’t permit us to visit our country estate. He says it is too near the Cokyrian border. I realize there may be some danger, but I’m worried the estate will be looted. You remember the raids from the last time we were at war, and it is so close to the river…”
“It is best to keep your family safe,” advised Lady Tanda. For the first time, I noticed the resemblance between mother and son, as her hair was just slightly darker than Temerson’s cinnamon-brown, and their warm brown eyes were a match.
“Oh, yes, of course. And I am grateful that we have our home within the city. But I had to leave behind some items that are dear to me and would like to send someone after them.” Alantonya was fretfully playing with her wedding band. “But Koranis won’t allow anyone to return, not even a servant boy. I have no way of knowing how our property is faring, or even if the danger to it is real.”
“London was there recently,” I revealed, omitting that I had been there, too. “I’ll call him over—he may be able to offer reassurance.”
I turned, not noticing that something in the air had changed, and motioned to my indigo-eyed bodyguard, who was leaning against the wall of the palace with his arms crossed, as was his bent. He straightened and began to move toward me, then came to a halt. I cocked my head and frowned, confused by his manner; my frown deepened into a scowl when he shook his head and returned to his position against the wall. I continued to stare at him, unable to believe he would disobey me, but he steadfastly refused to meet my gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Alantonya, turning to address her. “I don’t know why he’s acting like this.”
“It’s not important, Your Highness,” she said, contradicting her earlier statements.
“Of…course,” I concurred, baffled by the change in her attitude as well as by London’s unusual behavior. I glanced at the other women in the circle: at Faramay, who still seemed to have no interest in anything aside from her son; at Lania, Baelic’s wife, who stared at her sister-in-law in irritation; at my mother, whose hand lay gently upon Tanda’s upper arm; and at Tanda, who looked oddly sad, perhaps considering those who did not have a safe haven within the city.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I said, not knowing how to bridge the awkward silence and wanting to obtain an explanation from my recalcitrant guard.
I left the group and took a few steps toward the palace, only to discover that London had moved. Feeling somewhat foolish for having left the women to end up by myself, I cast about to locate him. Given the dwindling light of evening, it took me a while to discern he had headed toward Steldor, Galen and the young women, all of whom were now standing near one of the double-tiered marble fountains. As I watched, he joined Halias in the shadows of the trees. Tadark, I noted with a certain sense of satisfaction, was still crowding Steldor, while Temerson appeared to have given up hope and was sitting alone on one of the benches that ringed the fountain’s ten-foot diameter base. While it would not be my sister’s intention to neglect her suitor, he looked woeful nonetheless.
I marched up the path toward the Elite Guard, who stepped forward to inject himself into Galen and Steldor’s conversation, making it harder for me to corner him. He was becoming more confounding with every passing second.
“We’ve started calling him the Drunk-Gent at Arms,” I heard London say brashly to Steldor as I neared.
Steldor cackled and gave his best friend a good-natured shove, which Galen returned with a grin, despite the razzing he was receiving.
“This is your fault, you know! I couldn’t very well let the King drink alone!”
Galen gave Steldor another shove, and Tadark stepped behind the sergeant, positioned to grab him if he got too rough, seemingly worried that my husband would be hurt. In reality, Tadark was likely worried that such an incident would prove him an inadequate bodyguard.
Everyone watched in amusement as the King and the Sergeant at Arms pushed at each other like adolescent boys, and I saw that Temerson had perked up, probably surprised to be acting more refined than the men who typically overshadowed him. Tiersia’s eyebrows had risen and London smirked at the bedlam he had wrought—at least until he read the determination in my eyes.
I went toward my bodyguard, and he sighed, looking resigned that he could not avoid me. At the same time, Steldor, a mischievous glint in his eyes, gave Galen a tremendous shove that sent him stumbling backward into Tadark, who toppled into the fountain.
The riotous laughter that ensued drew the attention of all the other guests, who filtered over to see what had happened. For a moment, I thought that Steldor and Galen, doubled up from the hilarity of it all, might follow Tadark into the water, but they managed to stay on their feet. Poor Tadark, on the other hand, sputtered and clamored to find dry land, face ruddy with embarrassment. So desperate was he to escape that climbing out became a much greater feat, and he slipped and fell several times. No one thought to help until Steldor found a breath and proffered his hand, hauling the sopping wet guard onto the path just as Cannan came on the scene.
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” the captain said evenly. “Go to your quarters.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Tadark squeaked, glancing about miserably before sloshing into the palace, his dignity as water logged as his boots.
Cannan looked disapprovingly at Steldor and Galen, both of whom had begun to laugh anew, but there was something about his manner that revealed subtle amusement. Steldor countered with a sheepish, but not quite repentant, grin.
With a shake of his head, Cannan turned to assure the other guests that everything was fine, and the group began to break apart. Galen clapped Steldor on the back, then extended his arm to Tiersia, and when she consented to walk with him, they departed down one of the garden paths, escaping without a chaperone. Miranna, apparently deciding to follow their example, bounced over to Temerson, her smile and rosy cheeks exceedingly endearing. Temerson’s face lit up, and he took her
hand to walk in the same direction as Galen and Tiersia; Halias, however, followed a judicious distance behind. Just before they disappeared from view, I saw Temerson pull a small box from the pocket of his doublet, and I wondered what gift he was preparing to present to her.
Semari, Dahnath and Shaselle went to join their mothers, Dahnath tugging at her sister’s sleeve to pull her away from her newly royal cousin, and it was obvious that feminine chatter was of little appeal to the younger girl when Steldor was around. London, of course, had once more dodged me by moving out of my line of sight. This left me alone with the King. I considered going after Semari and the two sisters, but the time had passed when that might have seemed natural. Feeling Steldor’s eyes upon me, I shifted uncomfortably, wondering what held him so transfixed.
“Stop staring,” I scolded, managing to sound irritated rather than embarrassed.
He strode closer to me without breaking eye contact, so close that my heart began to race.
“I can’t,” he said, reaching out to play with a strand of my hair. “You take my breath away.”
Without waiting for a response, he flashed his perfect white teeth and walked toward his father and uncle, ensuring that this would be one of the most confounding evenings of my life.
When Steldor at length decided to draw the celebration to a close, he and I bid our guests good-night and departed, returning to our quarters. He came into the parlor after me, and I thought I might say something to him, but when I turned he was disappearing into his bedroom. Peeved, I considered knocking on the door, but didn’t want him to make the wrong assumption regarding my interest. I waited a moment to see if he would rejoin me of his own accord, feeling silly to be standing in the middle of the room by myself. As I debated whether to take a seat and continue to wait or retire to my bedroom, he reemerged, having changed into something less formal. With a slight nod in my direction, he made to leave, strapping his sword belt around his hips, and my thoughts flew to Miranna’s conjecture—that Steldor might seek the company of other women if I would not give him mine.