Sapphire sighed and leaned into his embrace, tucking her head under his chin. “I know. I just—” A knock interrupted her before she could repeat her oft repeated refrain of the day, but he still heard it echo in his mind. I just want her to relax and be happy.
Brandon reluctantly let go of Sapphire as Andre strode across the room to open the door, and Brandon couldn’t deny that he felt some of Sapphire’s nervous anticipation bubbling within himself. He just as desperately wanted this dinner to go well. Violet would be in their immediate family soon, like it or not, and they wanted her to feel welcome.
If no one else in his family would be acting as an ambassador, smoothing the ruffled feathers, helping to lay the roadwork for a peaceful future, then he would. One flower at a time, apparently.
He moved to be by the door as well, and Andre pulled down the handle, opening it to reveal Slate in his palace guard finery, Violet and Deisy behind him with two large bodyguards dressed in their military’s charcoal gray and purple. To Brandon’s amusement, Slate offered him a grandiose bow, then respectfully intoned, “The Princess Violet and her lady-in-waiting, Deisy.”
Brandon smothered a snort at his brother-in-law’s borderline antics and smiled warmly at his guests. “Good timing, ladies. Please, come in.” He stepped back to allow them entry, and moved again so her guards could stand just within the door. Andre greeted the ladies with warm dignity and ushered them further into the room, delivering them to Sapphire before he disappeared out a side door. Brandon looked back at Slate. “Want to come in?”
“No,” Slate drawled out, hands on his hips. “I’m heading back to my mother’s tonight to have dinner with her before she decides to skin me alive for not visiting as often as she wants.”
“Wise idea. She’s not a woman you want to annoy.”
Slate snorted. “Tell me about it.” He sneezed and glanced past Brandon into the room and winced at all the flowers. “Besides, my death wish doesn’t involve allergies. Enjoy your evening.” He offered a two-finger salute before he sneezed again and spun on his heel, strolling away. His third sneeze echoed in the hall, followed by some colorful words.
Chuckling to himself, Brandon closed the door and turned to face the women in the room. Sapphire was leading them through all the floral arrangements, cheerfully pointing out different flowers and combinations, her voice a steady stream of soothing dialogue. She should become a diplomat. Brandon nodded to the silent guards, then moved to join the ladies.
“I-I heard you recently had a baby?” Violet was saying to Sapphire as he approached. At Sapphire’s nod, Violet stopped subtly biting her lip and smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Sapphire beamed. “You can meet her later. She’s napping right now, but Clara will bring her in for a few minutes to say hi when she’s awake.”
Violet nodded, her gaze traveling from floral bouquet to floral bouquet. “That sounds … lovely.” She stopped at a white edelweiss arrangement on an endtable by the couch. She stared at it, took a deep breath, and then smiled at Sapphire. “I would love to meet her.”
Deisy had been silent the entire time Brandon had seen her, so he startled when she pointed above the door to a wooden panel inlaid with several colorful gems. A deep yellow crystal pulsed brightly. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice soft.
“It means”—Brandon clapped his hands and rubbed them together, anticipation and nerves running through him—“that dinner is ready. Shall we sit? The first course will be here momentarily.” Putting action to his words, he pulled out the heavy wooden chair in front of Violet, sliding it into place once she sat, careful to not snag her lavender gown. He proceeded to do the same for both Deisy and Sapphire, finally sitting down himself just before Andre returned to the room to open the door for their dinner attendants.
As well-raised as his brother was, there was no guarantee that Richard would be able to be a gentleman to Violet at social interactions. Let alone their father’s insistent reminders that Richard’s marriage to Violet was for the sole purpose of providing Richard an heir. Brandon refused to let either of them be all that Violet encountered in regards to the Doldran men. He, at least, could treat her as she was, no strings or emotions involved.
A faint curious line marred Violet’s forehead as she watched Andre.
Brandon could guess what she was wondering. “While I may be the second prince, I prefer to not live my life surrounded by attendants and guards with every waking moment.” He took a casual sip of wine and tipped the goblet toward Andre. “Andre is my bodyguard, aide, and confidant, and as such, while you see him working as my aide right now, I also require him to have breaks.” He couldn’t resist throwing a smirk at his wife. “And I’ll send him away for times of privacy.”
Sapphire shot him a small scowl even as her lips twitched up. “We also try to learn all the names of those that work here with us,” she added with an unabashed shrug as she pulled her pale yellow napkin off the table and settled it in her lap. “It’s odd, I know, compared to most royalty.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Violet replied, her expression thoughtful. “I’d love to say I do the same, but not as well as I wish I did.”
A young man and woman walked in, the former pushing a wooden cart laden with covered dishes. Bodrik bowed in greeting, his crisp gray vest rustling with his movement.
“Tonight’s dinner will start with a light salad.” As he spoke, Kaleen started moving plates from the cart to the table, uncovering each dish as it was set down. “Followed by a creamy lemon chicken with wild rice and vegetables, and finishing with wine-soaked pears. If any of you need anything at any time, please let myself or Kaleen know, and we’ll assist you in any way possible.” He stepped back to the cart and gestured at their food. “Enjoy!”
Sugared nuts beckoned to Brandon from his bowl of salad, but he paused before lifting his fork to stab at the pecan. What bit of calm relaxation they’d witnessed in Violet thus far had evaporated. Straight backed to the point of looking like she was barely breathing, Violet took miniscule bites of the salad, focusing intently on the food before her, as if the arrival of dinner meant the arrival of formalities.
Brandon paused, observing. He set his fork down and glanced at Sapphire, hoping to catch her eye. “Thank you again for joining us for such an informal dinner tonight.” He stressed the informal and smiled internally when Violet paused, her head cocked at him. “There is so much pomp and circumstance surrounding this affair, and the situation itself is … unfavorable … leaving you in an uncomfortable spot. No matter what the opinions of the populace or those here in palace, please know we understand that it’s a lot for you to deal with right now, and that you’re always welcome to join us for any amount of respite you may desire.”
“Indeed. Any time of day or night,” Sapphire chimed in. She leaned over her plate, a red curl slipping over her shoulder and hovering dangerously close to her salad as she sent Violet a conspiratorial grin. “Although, I must warn you, depending on when you come by, you may witness a cranky Adeline.”
“Thank you.” Violet’s stiff posture eased a bit, and she smiled hesitantly. “I do appreciate your sentiment, as well as your offer.”
“Good. We mean it.” Brandon picked up his fork again and eyed the closest sugared pecan on his salad. He stabbed it and waved it at their guests in a manner that would have made his mother cringe in horror. “And we also meant it when we invited you to eat dinner. Seriously now, eat at least some of the food, or I’ll eat it for you!”
Violet picked up her fork again while Deisy giggled by her side.
They were halfway through dinner when a small cry pierced through the conversation, and Sapphire perked her head toward the open side door. “I think someone just woke up,” she cooed.
A few minutes later Clara walked in, Adeline cradled in her arms. Now three months old, she wasn’t as small and squishy as she had been, but she was still a petite baby, who resembled her mother in terms of milk-whi
te skin and fair, strawberry-blonde hair.
Clara curtsied to Violet as best as she could with her arms full of baby. “I’m sorry for intruding upon your dinner, Your Highness.” She turned to Sapphire and held out Adeline. “But you wanted to see her when she woke up.”
“That’s right I did,” Sapphire chirped, kissing Adeline on the nose. She lifted their daughter so she could be seen by their guests and she waved Adeline’s closed fist. “Say hello to your future Aunt Violet and to Lady Deisy!”
Violet smiled at Adeline while she blew spit bubbles. “She’s beautiful.”
“Just like her mother.” Brandon’s heart overflowed, watching Sapphire interact with Adeline. To think, if things had turned out differently at Selvage, he might not have been here to witness Sapphire’s doting kisses, or Adeline’s sweet gummy smile. He grinned and leaned toward Violet, watching Sapphire as he whispered loudly, “And Adeline has the most adorable birthmark, also just like her mother—”
“You’re not discussing anything about my covered body at this table!” Sapphire exclaimed.
Brandon guffawed as Clara rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Violet’s lips twitched, as if she wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge his teasing of Sapphire or not. She lifted a finger to stroke the back of Adeline’s hand and asked haltingly, “And her birth went well?”
The mood of the table shifted from shy, yet pleasant, to somber. Had Violet even heard the full story of what had happened to Rose? She’d been sick at the time of Rose’s memorial and time of mourning, so she hadn’t traveled up with her family. What did she actually know?
“Yes. Thank you, Clara. You can take her back for a bit of playtime now.” Sapphire snuggled Adeline close before handing her back to Clara. “Thank you.”
Andre followed Clara into the side room, and he closed the door partway, allowing for privacy, but being able to hear each other if needed.
Sapphire shifted her attention back to Violet. “Yes, her birth went well. She was only a few days later than we’d counted out.” Sapphire’s smile slipped away, and she looked at Violet, sorrow and regret evident in her eyes. “We were blessed.”
Violet took a small bite of meat, delicately chewing while her gaze rested on the flower centerpiece. She swallowed, then sighed. “All I was told was that Rose died in childbirth. That it started too early. Is that true?” Her voice wavered at the end of the question, and Deisy reached out and settled her hand on Violet’s arm.
Sapphire put her fork down, eyes downcast. “It happened while Brandon was away, attempting negotiations with the Reformers. I was three months pregnant at the time, and both Clara and Rose were helping me to conceal the pregnancy for as long as possible. We wanted to announce after Rose had delivered.” Sapphire folded her hands in her lap, her cheeks pale in memory, and her voice wavering. “It was a wretched day. We’d just heard earlier that the distress signal had been sent, but we didn’t know what was wrong yet. Doctor Fitz-Williams was dispatched to help, and less than three hours later, Rose fell ill and started bleeding.” Sapphire’s lips trembled, and a tear fell. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath, continuing. “Nothing Doctor Fitz-Williams did helped. She and her babe died within hours.”
Silent tears coursed down Violet’s cheeks. Brandon plucked a clean napkin off the table and pressed it into her hand. She dabbed her face daintily with it.
“Poor Rose. How frightening that must have been.” Violet set her napkin down and took a deep breath. “And now Richard needs a new wife, as he’s still without an heir.” Her dark eyes were blown wide with fear. “I could join Rose in her fate within a year.”
“No! You wouldn’t!” Deisy broke in, half rising from her chair. “They don’t know what caused it for her, and you are two different woman. There is nothing that says because you are her sister, you’ll die too!” Deisy twisted in her chair to better hold onto Violet’s attention as she grasped Violet’s closed hand. “My lady, do not fear that which you don’t know.”
Sapphire and Brandon exchanged looks. Brandon didn’t know what to say. Violet wasn’t wrong about what his parents wanted from her: an heir. And she wasn’t wrong about there being a slim chance that whatever killed Rose was hereditary. But there was no guarantee, one way or another.
Not to mention, they still had to get married first.
Violet spoke into the uncomfortable quiet first. “You’re right.” She hung her head, her loose black hair brushing her shoulders. “My duty is to marry and provide heirs, to behave in a manner that brings my husband honor. I know my duty, and I shall fulfill it.”
Brandon snapped his mouth shut and resisted the urge to look at Sapphire again. She’d be better suited to help Violet’s perspective on the whole alliance later. That sort of conversation coming from another woman was likely to be much more welcoming than from the future brother-in-law.
Sapphire casually leaned forward, purposefully putting her elbows on the table as she crossed her arms. “How do you feel about marrying Richard, knowing he was married to your sister first?”
Brandon could feel the weight of Violet’s gaze on him, likely questioning how honestly she should answer or not. He offered a smile that he hoped she’d take as encouraging. “Whatever is said in this room is confidential. We will not judge, and we will not gossip. You are safe here, whatever your opinion may be.” He gestured to the wait-staff and noted that Andre had returned to stand by the door. “They are also trustworthy. Truly.”
They waited in patient silence while Violet pushed rice around her plate, her eyes thoughtful, and Brandon used her slow reply as an opportunity to finish off his meal before it got any colder.
She finally spoke. “It’s strange, I guess.” She sat back, gaze distant. “I remember Rose gushing about him, how she actually loved and respected him, despite it being an arranged marriage. And she’d sent a few letters, so I knew they were happy together. And now, I’m supposed to fill this gaping hole in her husband’s life.” Violet pressed her lips together and shook her head, tugging on the hem of her sleeve. “I know my presence hurts him.” Her cheeks deepened into a deep blush and she looked away from Brandon. “And I confess, I fear what happens in marriage, and all that goes with it. I … can only hope that Richard won’t be disappointed in me, that I’m not Rose.”
“I think that Richard’s heart is still healing from losing Rose and their baby, and as long as he remembers that you are two different women, that won’t be a concern,” Brandon said carefully, trying to tactfully address her concern without coming across as uncaring or boorish. “I suppose it would have been much easier for you if the plans for you marrying into Aerugo hadn’t changed.”
“Ahh.” Violet looked up at that. “In that regard, I’m actually thankful for this change. Lord Everett … I haven’t heard as many good things about him as I have about Prince Richard.” Violet offered a wry smile and halfhearted shrug. “At least Richard is younger.”
Sapphire sipped her wine with a smile. “There is that.”
Violet lifted her fork and twitched a finger between Brandon and Sapphire. “And you two, were you a match, or a choice?”
“Choice.” Brandon and Sapphire’s voices overlapped and they shot each other startled looks, then laughed together. He gestured to her.
Sapphire smiled at him, her beautiful blue eyes twinkling. “Once Richard and Rose were married, Brandon persuaded his parents to let us marry.”
“Uh, no.” Brandon waved a hand. “No, I didn’t do anything. Sapphire is the master negotiator, and she’s the one who came up with each and every logical argument on why we should marry. I just agreed with all she said, and then I was the one to bring it up each time—she just finished each conversation, until they said yes.”
Sapphire scrunched her nose at him and tilted her head at Violet, her voice light. “It helps that my family is noble, with just enough clout to be worthy of marrying royalty.” She leaned back to allow Bodrik access to pour a fresh glass of wa
ter for her, and she smiled her thanks as he worked. She continued, “We were lucky to be allowed to marry for love.”
Water splashed across the table and Bodrick set the glass pitcher down with wide eyes. “I am so sorry, my lady.” He whipped a white towel from his wide leather belt and dabbed at the tablecloth, red flushing his face, ears, and down his neck.
Sapphire slipped her napkin aside and touched his elbow, slowing his frantic movements. “It was an accident, Bodrik. Besides, it’s only water.” She turned to Violet. “How is your family? As I recall, you have two younger siblings?”
A genuine smile that chased away the shadows in her eyes bloomed across Violet’s face. “Rowan and Dahlia, yes. Rowan is fifteen now, and Dahlia, twelve. They are doing well, thank you.” Violet grinned at Deisy’s giggle. “Rowan is friends with Deisy’s younger brother, and they cause much mischief throughout the palace.”
Sapphire’s eyes sparkled as she turned to Brandon. “My own brother, whom you met—Lieutenant Slate Stohner—he and Brandon are still mischief makers here.”
“What?” Brandon protested. “We are not!” He ignored the small laugh through the open door of their chambers. Thanks a lot, Clara. He pouted at Sapphire. “I’ll point out that we’ve both mellowed out quite a bit in the last few years. We’ve barely done anything!” He glanced at the doorway. “Andre is the master pranker.”
“So you say. But has he ever been caught?” Sapphire lifted an elegant eyebrow and crossed her arms.
Out of the corner of his eye, Brandon saw Andre suppress a smirk. If only I could prove it.
“Besides, when was the last prank you two pulled?” Sapphire tapped a finger against her lips, then snapped her fingers. “Oh! That’s right! It was—”
“That wasn’t a prank! That was—” Brandon paused. “That was us being helpful.” It really had been an accident, but it helped to dissolve some of the tension in the palace that week, so Brandon had run with the idea of it being a purposeful prank.
Sapphire rolled her eyes as she set her fork and knife at an angle on her plate, then leaned to the side to allow Bodrik to clear the dish. “Right.” She looked at Violet and Deisy. “They ‘helped’ make dinner in the kitchen several weeks ago.” She shot Brandon a skeptical expression. “Somehow, half the food came out blue. Blue dinner rolls. Blue cake. Blue soup.”
Betrayal by Blood Page 13
