Respectant

by Florian Armaselu

  “That was my mother’s lyre,” Eduin said, “and no one has touched it since she died.”

  “I apologize.” Saliné’s voice was barely more than a whisper, and she set the lyre back on the table. “I will not touch it again.”

  “My dear Vio, if you don’t play again, I am afraid that I will instruct the servants to keep you locked in the room, with no food. Why do you think we’ve been standing here for half an hour? Just to be sure you don’t touch the lyre?” He come closer and took her hand in his. “Come, it’s dinner time, and you just won the right to eat more than any of us.”

  “My impression is,” Foy said thoughtfully, as his son still stood hand in hand with Saliné, “that your voice matches the skills of your fingers.”

  That evening, Foy moved the lyre back to the saloon where it had stood years ago, and his thoughts moved back to a time when his wife was still alive. In some ways, Vio resembles her, gentle and intelligent. Is this what Idonie meant about her being special? That she will replace my wife in Laurden’s life? Vio and Eduin... No, he shook his head, there will be too many political issues. Laure is pressing for the marriage between my son and her niece. We can’t afford to ignore her. Spring is still far off, and there will be no negotiations until then. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, Saliné’s last song still playing in his mind.

  From that day, once a week, Saliné played for them and for herself, in the evening, when the logs were singing in the fireplace too.

  ***

  “The Winter Solstice Party is in less than a month,” Foy said, throwing an amused look at his son. “Are you ready with your preparations?”

  “More or less.”

  “What about Vio?”

  “Hmm,” Eduin smiled. “You are testing me. I have already asked Martha to make her a dress.”

  “Good, and I think that we can move Vio into a suite. The one that belonged to your sister. She will not return soon. Her husband wrote that they will not come to the Winter Solstice Party. They will go to Tolosa. Matilde will be her maid.” This is another step in an uncertain direction, Foy thought, but I feel that I have to do it. Damn, Idonie, I am not a Wanderer who can see the future, but I have the feeling I am creating a new one that was not in the cards just weeks ago, and I have no idea where it will bring us. It is both great and dangerous. Why can’t you tell me more? “Let’s talk to her.” Still weighing his thoughts, Foy frowned heavily, under Eduin’s inquiring stare.

  They found Saline in her room, and Foy was more succinct that he would have liked when talking to her. I was almost rude, he thought. What’s wrong with me? He rubbed gently at his own temple, as though his own thoughts were giving him a headache.

  “Thank you Sir Foy,” Saliné said. She wanted to add more, but the shadow behind his eyes locked her tongue. Her eyes flicked away from the man who seemed to act strangely, back to the window. She frowned slightly.

  “To my friends, I am Foy.” He blinked at Saliné for a moment, then he smiled, avoiding to look at Eduin, who struggled to suppress his amusement.

  “Thank you, Foy,” she repeated, unable to say more, and made a curtsy.

  Guests started to come to Laurden weeks before the Winter Solstice Party. Most of them were from the valley, as most of the passes were now blocked. Some were from other corners of the Seigneury, or even from outside it, and they were the first to arrive, when the snow was still manageable on the high roads. Part of the inner circle of S’Laurden, Saliné found herself the center of the attention of several young men, but mostly of Eduin and his cousin Arnauld, who competed in a friendly manner. She enjoyed their jokes and that exuberance so typical of the south of Frankis. They gave her a strange feeling of being at home. She was not fully aware of it; she just felt at ease. Her only concern was that Idonie could not come.

  On the evening everybody had been waiting for, she took her place at the main table, next to Eduin, who was next to his father, at his right. Remembering Idonie’s warning, Foy settled Arnauld at his left, so the Seigneur of Laurden could act like a fence between the young man and Saliné. He thought that everything was settled well, when the Majordomo made his call for the first suite of dances. Caught in an argument between his guests, Eduin saw too late that Arnauld had asked Saliné for the first dance of the evening. My bloody cousin was quick to take advantage, he mused, and turned his back on them.

  “There is nothing more enjoyable than dancing with a beautiful woman during the long winter nights.” Smiling, Arnauld lent Saliné his arm and led her to the floor. He could not stop looking at her.

  Saliné was dressed in her new dark-green velvet gown, showing her shoulders, which looked as though they were carved in old ivory, and her slender arms. She had no ribbons on her clothes, the only woman in the hall without them. Her simple dark dress was not noticeable on her; it was only her frame that captured the view – simple, natural, elegant, and that attracted the eye of both men and women. Her coiffure was not striking, most of her hair being tied in a long pony tail tied with a single dark-green ribbon, the same material as her dress. There were some little willful tendrils of curly hair free at her temples. Her auburn hair contrasted in a strange way with the dark velvet. That was striking. She felt the pressure from their eyes, and fought to control her breath.

  “It may be, if the woman knows how to dance. The rhythm is strange to me, the stranger from the north.” I will dance with a stranger. In Severin, I was forced to dance only with Bucur. I never danced with Codrin.

  “Who worries about dancing? It’s the easiest thing in the world. I saw you walking. You were born to dance,” Arnauld said, encircling her waist, ready for the start. “With me,” he whispered, looking amused at her. “Let’s try a few steps.” Taking her left hand, Arnauld laid it on his shoulder, and led her to the left, then to the right, and her feet began to move rhythmically over the slippery marble of the floor, in time to the music. “What did I tell you? It’s easy. Rotation now.” He took his hand from around her waist and turned her two times, then two more. At the end, he took her waist again.

  “You want to make me lose my head.”

  “From only four rotations? At the end of the dancing suite, we should make a diagonal of rotations. Like this.” Arnauld tightened his arm around her waist, and they turned together this time.

  “That was much better.” Saliné laughed, and finally let the party take over. It was so different from the two she had had in Severin.

  Arnauld was both a good dancer and a good teacher. He also knew his business, and in every dance he still found something to correct, to keep her attention. He did it jokingly, so Saliné did not feel pressured, and she did not notice how fast time passed; she spent the entire first suite of five dances only with Arnauld.

  “It’s such a pleasure to dance with you,” he said, during the fourth dance.

  “You will soon empty your bag of compliments.” Saliné’s laughed a bit tight, yet she was strangely pleased by his words. “And I may never learn to dance your southern dances properly, if you don’t criticize me too.” She was in the middle stage; she was pleased, and at the same time she had sufficient self-awareness to be able to observe: Arnauld was exaggerating, but he was doing it in a natural, exuberant and almost childish manner. The only young man from her past with whom she could make a social comparison was Bucur, and all the men she met in Laurden were not Bucur.

  “You have nothing to worry about; I will always find more compliments for you.”

  From one corner of the hall, they started the fifth dance with measured steps, then he began the rotations, straight towards the group in the center, continually saying, “Excuse us, excuse us,” and steering their course through the sea of lace and ribbons, until they made a full diagonal. “We’ve made it,” he laughed.

  “Yes, we made it,” Saliné breathed, suddenly thrilled, now that her fear was gone.

  “I hope you will allow me to invite you again.” Arnauld kissed her hand, and then he led her back to h
er place.

  Traversing the room, she saw many couples hiding behind the columns or leaving the hall. There was a closeness between them that she envied without realizing it. They were young and exuberant, and some did not even care that people saw them kissing.

  Arnauld dark eyes glittered with amusement as he said, “That’s something normal at our parties,” and he pointed to one of the many kissing couples. “Are you different in the north?”

  “Thank you for the dancing lessons, and of course I would like to dance again with my teacher,” she said abruptly. Mother told me the same. She was doing that too... A hint of desire to be a normal girl and enjoy everything passed through her, but she did not feel fully at ease with Arnauld or with anyone else.

  Under Eduin’s intense stare, Arnauld pulled back her chair to let her sit. He was doing the same, with another girl, two tables away. Arnauld, his eyes crinkling at Eduin, whispered something to Saliné, who laughed in delight. Deliberately, he placed his hand on the rail of her chair, without touching her. From his place, Eduin saw his hand on Saliné’s shoulder. Arnauld winked at him and went to his place.

  Vio is both intelligent and innocent, Arnauld thought, leaning back against his chair, and sometimes she looks strangely at me, like she is dreaming. Maybe there was no one to teach her such things at their court. Her father was a Half-Knight. I doubt that they really had a court. More probably they just had a large house. In two weeks, I should be able to convince her to come with me. My place is closer to Valeni, and she knows it. She wants to leave Laurden, and I want to keep her. Father will not be happy, but I like Vio. She is so ... different.

  From her chair, Saline observed the effervescence in the hall, and a serene smile settled on her lips. How I wish Codrin were here.

  When the second suite of dances was about to start, Foy kept Arnauld in a talk so Eduin could invite Saliné, but the tempestuous young man broke with etiquette and, jumping up from his chair, he stood behind Saliné. “I am sorry, Eduin, but Vio promised me these dances too. Please, my dear,” he said and lent his arm to her, “the second suite is the best.”

  Saliné felt the hidden tension behind the smiles of the two young men; her senses were much better trained for bad feelings than for good ones. “Of course I will dance again with you, Arnauld,” she said with a charming smile, and Arnauld grinned, satisfied, at Eduin, who fought hard to conceal his disappointment, just to avoid giving even more satisfaction to his cousin. “You are a wonderful dancer, but Eduin invited me first, so this is his dance.” The corners of Saliné’s mouth twitched, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling at Eduin; his grin was quite devilish. I must give Arnauld another dance later.

  From that moment, she took care to change partners after each dance, and it happened that Arnauld got the last one in the second suite. “It’s becoming too hot here and I have a surprise for you,” he said mysteriously when the music stopped. “Please allow me to show you.”

  Reluctantly, Saliné agreed, and he walked her through a small hall into an adjacent room that she never saw open before. Music and laughter followed them through the darkening air. The moment Arnauld opened the door, a strong scent of orange flowers came to Saliné, and she walked toward the six trees in full blossom, long forgotten memories from her childhood in Midia stirring her – they had a small orangery there too. Briefly, she thought that perhaps Eduin would have preferred to surprise her, but it was already too late.

  “Thank you, Arnauld, this was a surprise.” She touched the flowers and buried her face in them. She shivered from both pleasure and cold. While the frigid air outside could not get in, the room had no heating. Resembling some friendly ghosts through the large windows, high clouds moved across the first stars. Round and mysterious, the moon was sending its silvery tentacles across the room, playing gently on Saliné’s face.

  Arnauld came closer, almost touching her. She sensed warmth radiating from his body and felt better. Slowly, Arnauld came even closer and his chest touched her back. It happened so gently that Saliné only felt more warmth coming to her and involuntarily, she leaned back a little. His breath stirred a stray strand on her neck, yet she did not move away. She turned her head, though, to meet his glance. Arnauld smiled and whispered, “One day, when you have time, I will invite you to see an orange orchard. Here, in the mountains, it is too cold, but there is one in the garden of my castle. It flowers at the spring equinox. You must come.”

  Saliné thought for a while and calculated that his place was closer to Valeni.

  He moved his mouth even closer to her ear, and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her a little. “Your aunt, Agatha, is a good friend of my father, and from there, you can easily reach Valeni.”

  “Thank you, Arnauld, you are a kind man.” I have to keep this option open, if Foy doesn’t want to help me.

  “I am glad that you agree,” he said and, turning her even more, kissed her. Arnauld caught her with her mouth open, as she tried to speak, and he misinterpreted her stance. His strong arms tightened around her, one over her waist, the other behind her neck, and he pressed further, parting her lips even more. Saliné tried to stop him, but his embrace was so tight that she could not move and she was losing both breath and mind. He stopped for a moment, and she breathed deeply, her eyes wide. A memory of Jara telling her that kissing was normal at a ball came back to her. All the girls and young men did it.

  This is so different from Bucur, she thought, a trace of desire passing through her. There was something primal in this man, force and passion, something that Bucur lacked. Another burst of memory came to her, the only time Codrin had kissed her. That kiss was powerful too, leaving her breathless, but somehow her mind wanted to forget it now. Arnauld was not playing with her; he wanted her, and she felt it. And it was a ball after all. “Arnauld…” she tried to speak, but he kissed her again, and his hand behind her neck did not allow her to pull away from his mouth, and his embrace was strong, almost melting her body into his. I have to solve this calmly, she pondered, not realizing that her lips were already answering him, and her thoughts fully dissolved.

  He let her free for a moment, and she finally breathed. “I love you, Vio,” he whispered. “I never wanted anyone as I want you. Come with me, tomorrow. You will be the queen of my castle.”

  She was in an awkward position, her left shoulder pressed on his chest, his arm still around her waist. This is more than a kiss at a ball. I need to think and stop him, before... “Arnauld, let’s go back now. We can talk again later, when things are calmer. People may come here.” Talking gently and keeping her eyes on his, she moved away from him.

  “They won’t. I’ve stolen the key. No one knows that the room is open.” Arnauld leaned forward, ready to kiss her again. He was totally lost.

  Oh, no... Did he lock the door? “Arnauld, please stop.” Overriding her lingering thrill, Saliné tried to move further away from him, before his strong arms could immobilize her, but he was too excited now and ready to risk everything. I need to stop him, before it’s too late.

  “I can’t,” Arnauld said, his voice edgy. “I want you, Vio.”

  Before he could embrace her again, she panicked and slapped him, not something a woman would normally do. In a split second, her fighting skills took over, and she reacted like a trained Assassin. She flexed her knees slightly, lowering her center of gravity. Then her body rotated, springing up at the same time. Powered by the springing muscles, her spine and shoulder passed the whole force of her whirling body into her arm. He was pushed a step back, and blood flowed from his nose. The shocked moments of silence that followed were baffling for both of them.

  What have I done? That was the Assassin Whirlpool. It could have broken his nose or worse... But her instinct had chosen a light form of the Whirlpool and caused little damage. “I am sorry, Arnauld,” she breathed, trying to calm him, her wide eyes watching the blood pooling on his face and neck.

  Unconsciously, he had reacted in a similar way and moved
into a fighting stance, ready to hit her. He restrained himself a moment later, their eyes locked. They were stunned, and neither of them knew what to do next. Maybe Arnauld deserved some form of punishment, but nothing so serious. Even though he had lost control of himself, he was doing what other young men and girls were doing at the ball, but something broke in Saliné in that moment. Her reaction was not against Arnauld, not really; it was against the two years of misery Bucur had inflicted on her. It was Bucur she was punishing, not the man in front of her. Even though he was dead, that evil man still haunted Saliné.

  “I am sorry,” she repeated. “I did not mean to react that way, but you scared me. I will go now, as Eduin or Foy may be worried by our absence. What happened here stays between us. Arnauld, I am not upset at you, and I should not have reacted so strongly. Compose yourself and return a few minutes after me. I will enjoy dancing and talking to you later. You are a wonderful dancer.”

  “I must apologize.” Arnauld finally recovered from the shock, and his mind was normal again. “I lost myself because of your beauty. It has never happened before, and I feel ashamed. Forgive me.” He bowed and stepped aside, to let her pass.

  What happened to me? Strange, she thought, I resent him less than I resented Bucur. Arnauld was too insistent, but he was not wicked. In fact, I don’t resent him at all. Mother was right about dancing and kissing... She shook her head nervously, unable to understand herself. At that moment, she wanted to be an eighteen-year-old girl, free of worries. She wanted to be exuberant and enjoy the party as any other girl could enjoy it, even let some young men kiss her. She couldn’t. At least not fully. There were too many bad memories restricting her freedom. They acted like shackles on her mind. Out of the room, which had not been locked by Arnauld as she had feared, Saliné arranged her dress and walked away through the small corridor toward the dancing hall, as if nothing had happened. At the main door, she met Foy, who was walking out briskly. Without understanding it, she felt the tension in his stare and a sudden relief too. Saying nothing, he stepped back, his eyes on her, letting her enter. Arnauld was nowhere to be seen.