"Hold your tongue, woman," Henrik muttered. He sat stiffly in his chair.
Seanna ignored him. "Lady Meirtown has expressed to me how much she misses your company. It is a shame, but what can one do? Her soirees have become the highlight of my evenings, and she has told me frequently how much she appreciates me."
"Is that so."
Seanna should have noticed Henrik's dangerous tone, but she prattled on, "If you're not careful, you may find that nearly all the elite social circles have begun excluding you. Really, I wouldn't be surprised if by next season, even Rask himself will have taken to me."
Henrik slammed his fist on the table. Cups spilled and plates jumped, sending their contents spilling over the pristine cloth. Seanna flinched despite herself. His face turning red, Henrik growled, "You reach too far, wife. How long until your 'friends' abandon you for the next brainless noblewoman? Your ambitions will bring you to ruin. You have no idea of the powerful people you might offend with your bragging and your gossip."
He's furious, Seanna thought. At first, she trembled, but then she realized, He is threatened by me. Straightening herself in her seat once more, she nonchalantly picked up her goblet, drank, and popped a sliver of fruit into her mouth. She chewed slowly.
"Lord Rivers is a dear friend of yours, is he not?" Seanna asked. Henrik blinked in surprise, his whole frame tightening.
"He is," he gritted out.
"Friends sometimes hide harsh truths from each other. They wish not to hurt one another, and so in the end hurt them more. It is a shameful fact of life."
"What are you insinuating?"
"Lord Rivers is working with Rask. Together they've been taking from the taxes owed to you and putting their money and support behind a third candidate for Exalt. Of course, you must have been informed of all this and found it perfectly acceptable; the king has greater spies than anyone."
Henrik's face grew redder and redder as she spoke. He stood abruptly and threw his napkin onto the table. Without a word, he stormed away. Selecting a small sweet from a platter, Seanna treasured his reaction.
Before Seanna left for her visitations, her steward arrived with two notes on a platter. One was a crisp white envelope with a blood-red seal, and the other a thick, creamy parchment that had been folded elaborately and sealed with an embroidered ribbon under gold-colored wax. Intrigued, Seanna selected the fancier of the two and slid her thumb under the wax to open it. The penmanship was light and flowing, clearly from an elf's hand. She listened as the steward read:
"To the esteemed Queen Seanna of Con Salur - Our countries have long been stalwart allies, but our rulers barely friends. It would be an honor to have your attendance tonight for a small dinner of the most favored courtiers. Fondest tidings, Kair Aremo Teru of Dedaria."
The steward paused, then asked, "Shall I read the second, Your Grace?"
Seanna nodded, though she didn't much care who else had written to her. Kair Aremo Teru...having such a man as an ally would shame Henrik to no end. Henrik had always loathed his elven neighbors, both Dedarian and Rengu, for betraying his forefathers and seceding from the great D'Ehsi kingdom in ancient times. Though they were currently at peace, Henrik refused to entertain either elven prince in Con Salur.
The steward cleared his throat, then read, "To my dear friend Seanna - Since the revelations you brought to my attention, we have not had a chance to dine together. I would like us, and Gwen, to eat in privacy tonight. Perhaps we may come to a better understanding of each other. Your loyal servant, Druam Strilu, Earl of Seastone."
Seanna mused for a moment, considering her options. On the one hand, Druam had been her closest ally until she met Maeria. But, if what Ralston had said was true...then dinner with Druam could ruin all her work. And Henrik would hate my becoming friendly with the elven prince. "Send my regrets to Druam and an eager acceptance to Kair Aremo," Seanna said to the steward.
Elves were not uncommon in Dotschar, though they mostly stayed in their own kingdoms. Rengu and Dedaria were the domains of the elves; in the dark days, the Dedarians' ancestors, the Lofalin elves, were brought over to serve as slaves to the D'Ehsi peoples before winning their freedom centuries later. Most elves lived longer than men, if only by twenty or thirty years. That, and the elves' pointed ears and extra finger on each hand, led to many men distrusting them. Though Seanna had not met many elves, she didn't much care about the racial divides.
Pride filled her lungs the remainder of that day; Seanna could not help but brag to the courtiers about the kair's invitation and "fond tidings." By suppertime, nearly everyone knew of the queen's plans for the evening, and envy-laden notes came by the dozen. Everyone wanted to meet with her the next day to hear of the exclusive dinner.
Seanna dressed in her loveliest silks and pinned her finest jewels to her hair and breast. She shimmered from every angle, an angel descended to walk among mere mortals. Though the outfit weighed heavily, she walked with her head held high and her back straighter than the king's scepter. Jealous eyes followed her through the corridors to the prince's private dining room.
As was Dedarian custom, tables encircled a wide space in the center of the room. A band of troubadours played foreign songs as courtiers mingled in the open area, and a set of bay windows had been opened to let in the cool autumn breeze. Kair Aremo had yet to arrive. His guests drank their wine nervously, glancing often to the carved double-doors leading to his personal chambers. Seanna glided among them, greeting each warmly.
Ten minutes passed before a steward announced the kair's arrival. The troubadours struck up a regal melody as the double doors opened and a tall, handsome elf stepped into the room. He carried himself with inherited grace. Jet-black hair barely touched his shoulders, and his skin had a coppery tone. A black, sleeveless robe embroidered with golden dragons draped over his shoulders and left his shaved chest exposed for all to see. A beautiful elven woman accompanied him, her flowing gown nearly as revealing as his.
Seanna was the first to offer her hand to the kair. He took it and pressed moist lips to her palm. His dark eyes flicked up to meet hers, and he gave her a small, private smile. She returned it, her chest swelling.
Seated in the place of honor to the prince's right, Seanna focused all her attention on Kair Aremo. He languished in his cushioned chair like a contented cat. He never stared for long at any one person; rather, his eyes flitted between all the guests and the troubadours, resting for just a moment on each as if he were choosing a target on which to pounce.
"Your wife is lovely," Seanna said. The beautiful elven woman sat on the opposite side of the room, and Seanna saw that her eyes often drifted to rest on Aremo.
Aremo laughed in a warbling, birdlike tenor. "She is enchanting, isn't she? Though I'm afraid to say she is not my wife."
"No? Your betrothed, then?"
Again, his high laughter lifted to the chandelier. "My dear queen, we Dedarian have different ways of doing things. While I am currently betrothed to Ulalia Etrila, the daughter of the Rengu prince, I feel no social pressures to halt my current trysts with my paramour. Edlyn is a wild woman with wild tastes, and I am loath to abandon her for the sake of propriety."
Aremo lifted his glass in a toast to the woman across the room. Edlyn returned it, her jewelry shimmering in the candlelight. Fascinated, Seanna asked, "Is it proper in Dedaria for love affairs to be open for all to see?"
"Proper? Hardly. But they are so common that we might as well tear apart all our marriage papers. Ameer Voclain was hesitant to give his daughter to me, as I am – what did he say? – ah, that I am a vile, repulsive man with no sense of decency, and that I bring shame and dishonor to our entire race." Kair Aremo smiled fondly, as if recalling a day in the gardens rather than insults from another prince. "But, he did acquiesce when I showed him the gold and trade routes I was willing to offer for her hand."
"What are you getting out of the bargain? Other than a prestigious wife?"
"Princess Ulalia is Voclain's eldest child
and heir to the Rengu province. With our union, and plentiful children to prove our consummation, I will have control over both Rengu and Dedaria, and unite the elven nations of D'Ehsen as they were in the old days."
"It would be quite difficult to have a united kingdom with seas dividing them."
"Ah, yes, a great obstacle. How ever shall I overcome such horrid boundaries?" Aremo again smiled a secret smile, but this one unnerved Seanna. Goosepimples shivered over her arms, and she forced a grin to hide her sudden chill.
"I have heard," Seanna said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, "that there have been more and more immigrants from Lofaliri to Dedaria. Have your small territories become overrun with refugees?"
Aremo drawled, "More ships have sailed there, but carrying armies."
"Armies?"
The prince laughed at her shock. "A joke, Your Grace. How ever could the barren Isles support armies of any size? We can hardly feed our own people with our scarce farms and wet moors."
"True," Seanna said, flushing at her paranoia. He was right, of course; everyone knew that the trio of cliffed islands supported only the hardiest of vegetables and sheep. The elves living there depended on trade from their kin across the sea in Lofaliri.
Bolstered by wine, Seanna redirected the conversation. They spoke for a long time – well over a candle – of religion, trade, the Exalt, anything Seanna could think to interest the elf. All the while, Edlyn sat across from them sending sultry looks to the prince.
After their conversation, Aremo rose suddenly and extended his hand to his lady. Edlyn practically leapt to her feet and latched onto his arm. With a small bow and a wink at Seanna, Aremo said, "I thank you for coming to this dinner. I have appreciated coming to know all of you, especially Her Grace the queen. I have needs that must be attended, if you will forgive such a blunt remark. Farewell, and good night."
As soon as she left the private dining room, Seanna sent a message to Maeria. It said simply, Come as soon as you can. Seanna hurried to her chambers while replaying the evening in her mind. Henrik would be furious at her burgeoning friendship with the prince, and she envisioned trips to Dedaria once her confinement ended. Nobles poured to her like wine from a bottle, and she would make their cups overflow with wealth and grandeur. Henrik was wrong; Seanna would succeed in this.
Around midnight, a knock came at her door. Seanna called softly to enter, and Maeria's beautiful face peeked around the door, desire and anxiety warring in her features. She wore only a simple white shift. Suddenly, Seanna was aware of her own body. In the deshes since leaving Con Salur, her belly had grown more, and no one besides her maids had seen her naked. Unconsciously, she started to cover herself, turning away from Maeria.
A soft hand pulled Seanna back around. Maeria's white fingers ran over Seanna's body, from her shoulders to her breasts and then down to her belly. Seanna's breath caught, her heart pounding with a nervous beat. Will she reject me, as Larka did? Then Maeria leaned down and kissed her bellybutton.
"There's no need to be ashamed," Maeria murmured. "You're beautiful."
Something released in Seanna, a tide of guilt and self-hatred that had haunted her since the day she left Con Salur. She hadn't even realized she had harbored it.Taking Maeria's chin, Seanna pulled her down and kissed her deeply. She tasted of apples and salt, of cool water and hot lust. With a sudden urgency, Seanna pulled the girl to the bed. They stared at each other, cleanly naked, nothing but warmth between their smoldering skin.
"Onto the pillows," Seanna said. Maeria obeyed. Though her pregnancy made her feel heavy, and she moved slowly, her confidence grew as Maeria squirmed and panted with her touches. She kept going until Maeria screamed and kicked in confused delight. While Maeria recovered, Seanna pulled herself up to meet the girl's mouth, letting her taste herself.
"Whatever you want," Maeria gasped at last, running her hands through Seanna's thick hair, "Everything you want and more. Just do – that – to me as often as you can."
"Oh sweet maid," Seanna breathed. "I shall teach you everything about your body and mine. I'll–"
She was cut off as Maeria pulled her into another kiss.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cara
"SANDU!" Cara shouted until her voice was hoarse. Her leg hurt after Jagger had hauled her to her feet, and she couldn't move from her blankets. Alex roamed the forest outside the camp. Cara watched him, sure that she'd see a flash of a knife, but Jagger didn't reappear. Neither did Sandu. Eventually, Alex returned to her in defeat.
"I can't track them," he said. "It appears that – Jagger, was his name? – knows how to shake someone following him." Alex slumped beside her and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. "We can try again in the morning."
Cara leaned against him and stared into the darkness. "Should we?"
"What do you mean? We can't just abandon him to that madman."
"Sandu said it himself: I was his next bounty. I can't trust him–"
"Yes, you can," Alex interrupted her. "He told me about his bounty. When it was clear his master wouldn't let him give up the job, he tried to leave you. To protect you. I made him stay, and I know he wanted to tell you."
"You knew?" Cara drew back. Her heart had already been broken that night by Sandu's words, and now Alex had betrayed her, too? Was there no one in this world she could trust?
"I did," Alex said, giving her a level look. "But it wasn't my truth to tell. Wouldn't you have rather heard it from Sandu himself? And if you could have, you would have kept the beast a secret from both of us."
Cara grappled with his blunt statements. Yes, she would have kept her beast close if she could have. She wished she could keep it from Renna, too. He was also right about Sandu; she would have wanted to hear it from him. But even so, had Sandu only sought her out in the first place as a bounty? How long had it taken him to decide not to sell her? Before Merick's death? After their first encounter with Jagger? If Sandu were there, he could have answered all her questions. He was gone, though, and his truths with him.
Eventually, Cara leaned back into Alex. "I understand why you kept it from me. I don't know if I can forgive Sandu, though."
"If he even comes back."
Maybe it's for the best that Sandu dies out in the swamp, thought Cara, though she immediately felt guilty for it. The beast pushed against her mercy, and she wondered if she would have tried to kill Sandu herself if Jagger hadn't taken him.
Her thoughts, and the pain of her leg, made it difficult to sleep. She lay beside the jumble of blankets that was Alex and recalled all her conversations with Sandu. She had always believed him to be genuine, but now she knew what he had really been: a con man from the start.
After a candle of tossing and turning, Cara pulled Alex's blanket up and snuggled against him. He snuffled in his sleep, then opened one eye.
"Is something wrong?"
"I can't sleep," she whispered. "Can I stay close to you?"
"Oh...yes, of course." Putting one arm around her, Alex's breathing soon returned to its slow cadence. With him beside her, Cara finally embraced her own dreams.
In the cold light of morning, Cara woke to find Alex missing. She sat up, heart pounding, and stared wildly around. Their horse was still there, as were all their packs. Sandu's blankets were rumpled and cold.
After a few minutes, Alex stepped from the swamp and held up a rabbit. At Cara's questioning look, he shook his head. "Still no sign of him."
While Alex prepared their horse for travel, Cara went through Sandu's pack. Tears dotted the worn fabric as she found his Valadi spices and spare shirt which still carried his scent. Deep at the bottom she found a rolled up parchment. Her hands shook as she undid the string and smoothed it open.
She saw Jagger's name crossed out, and many more names or requests with locations and prices. Her own name, she noted, had many hunters after it – including Sandu. And her price? Five marks. A weighty sum. It was no wonder Sandu had wanted to find her.
"Stanthorpe?" Alex came beside her and looked at the list. "He's the master of the Peddler's Guild. Stubborn and shrewd, but fairly harmless to my knowledge. I can't say I've met him more than once, though."
"What would a man like him want with me?"
"Who knows? Once the Hooded Man is taken care of, we can seek him out and demand answers. We should be careful, though; Sandu says he has magic, and he clearly knows more about you than most do. He might even know that you're sulpari."
Cara shivered and stuffed the parchment back into Sandu's bag.
As Alex lifted Cara onto the horse's back – her leg, splinted and wrapped as it was, limited her movement – he asked, "You're sure about leaving? We can wait longer, see if Sandu–"
"I'm sure," Cara said. His bounty list had only cemented her resolve. "He had many chances to tell me. I hope his soul finds peace."
Alex hesitated, then nodded. He kicked dirt over their pitiful fire, then took the horse's reins.
They left the swamp by late morning, then traveled through beautiful countryside of rolling green hills and copses of trees decorated with crowns of orange and red. Farmlands spotted the landscape, laborers working to bring in the early harvest while shepherds brought their flocks down from the higher hills. Each town had a smithy and well-tended market, and most had inns or public houses. The people looked to be healthy and in good humor, and children played carefree in the streets wearing grass-stained smocks.
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