However, it soon became apparent why he was conversing with Illianah: Valencio was hoping to find a wife to take back to Bouron. He needed someone to manage his new estate while he was away at sea. His frequent hinting made it obvious he sought someone like Illianah—someone with poise and charm. Someone with good breeding and connections. Someone who wanted limitless money at their fingertips. “I do have good reason to believe that when I return from my next voyage, the king will give me a knighthood.”
Valencio said this as if any woman would swoon at the thought of becoming the wife of a knight, but little did he realize that for a woman like Illianah, it would be belittling.
“How very exciting, ‘Sir’ Valencio,” she said with feigned enthusiasm. “You are certain to have a life of prosperity. Lest you think me too forward, might I offer a bit of advice?”
“But of course,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.
“You will find many women eager at the prospect of marrying a wealthy man who has the promise of knighthood. However, the caliber of woman who will marry a knight will be much greater. A knight can marry a woman of noble birth, whereas, a sea captain cannot.”
His eyes narrowed and he sat back in his chair. He appeared to be thinking about what she had said; then he leaned forward and said, “You are suggesting I postpone my pursuit until after my next voyage.”
“Exactly. You will be rewarded for your patience.”
A smile landed on his lips and he said, “You are very wise.” Within his eyes—which looked like they belonged to a soul hardened by a life at sea—she saw a familiar look fondness. Other men had looked at her in this manner before. Just as she realized how he must have misunderstood her words, he said, “Might I ask if you, Katherine, are of noble birth?”
Illianah felt as if her mind had been tossed into the fire. She could not think. She should just lie to the man and say that she was not nobility; yet at the same time, if she ever hoped to get into the palace, she should not be acting like a common peasant. “What do you think, Valencio? Am I noble?”
He again looked contemplative and then said, “Yes. I believe you are. But I think you are running from it, although I cannot guess why.”
She tried to smile, but it felt like pulling on a thread that was tightly stitched into a seam. “Life is full of mysteries, Monsieur Valencio,” she said. “You must excuse me; I am ready to retire for the evening.”
She could feel his eyes on her back as she left the taproom to retreat to her bedchamber on the third floor. She did go to bed, but she did not sleep. Princess Illianah of Burchess was taken for dead, yet here she was just a mile away from the palace of Vieve and not allowed to enter. And not only that, she was nearly out of money. Just feet from where she lay, there was a man who would not hesitate to give her anything she asked for. But there was no possible way she could commit to give him what he asked for.
***
By morning, Illianah had made a decision that she was certain would result in her being shackled in hell in the afterlife. She was going to mislead Valencio.
If she promised her hand in marriage after he returned from his voyage, she was certain he would buy her the rust-colored dress. Then Illianah would go to the palace and again ask to see the king and queen; this time she would look the part and be allowed entrance.
She knew Valencio would not be heartbroken—only slighted—and she promised herself she would repay him once she arrived back in Burchess.
What would happen after Illianah revealed her identity to the king and queen remained uncertain. She hoped to convince them of the wicked plots originating from the leaders of Burchess, and hoped it would propel Vieve to change their view of the war. But above all hopes, Illianah prayed that she would be allowed to stay at Vieve until the war was over.
When she went downstairs for breakfast, the taproom was buzzing with excitement. Whereas it had typically been quiet in the morning hours, today it felt as busy as the first day of market in the spring.
Every table was crowded with people off the streets and she quickly saw that most of the people had mugs of beer in their hands. Certainly something exciting must be happening if the city’s residents were not tending to their morning chores. “What is all this fuss?” she asked the alewife.
The alewife raised her eyebrows and spoke quickly, “You haven’t heard? The King of Deltegra sent out a proclamation, stating that Princess Illianah did not die in that fire. She escaped before she was even sent to the village of Cordana.”
“Escaped?”
“Yes. She slipped away from the castle of Andoradda in the middle of the night. Apparently, she had been there so long that she was no longer guarded. They did not expect she would flee.”
Illianah was taking short, quick breaths and realized that it was likely she looked as if she was a fish tossed onto dry land. “And the king?” she asked, sounding inadvertently winded. “King Reginald? He believes the proclamation?”
“But of course. King Henrick would not send out a proclamation crafted of lies. There is a protocol the kings must abide by, you know.” The alewife looked on Illianah as if she were dim and then said, “This is very good news for Deltegra. Yesterday, it looked as if they would be annihilated before the end of the month.”
Illianah smiled, but then she realized that her smile was too large to for her supposed casual interest in the news. “That is good,” she said, forcing her mouth to pull down.
“It is good. We already share our eastern border with Burchess. I do not think the king likes the thought of having to share our northern border with the pompous pigs.”
The room was much too crowded for Illianah to find a spot to sit—at least not without having to sit shoulder to shoulder with a commoner. Besides, the news had made her stomach leap with joy—a joy that was more filling than any breakfast could ever be.
She turned to leave the taproom, but as she ascended the stairs to the sleeping chambers, someone grabbed her by the shoulder. “Katherine, I have been calling out to you.”
“Oh,” she said, turning to find Valencio behind her. “I did not hear you; the crowd is rather boisterous this morning.”
He had that same look of deep introspection that he had worn last night while trying to decipher why she had run from her noble life. “Join me for breakfast,” he said. “I have saved you a seat.”
She no longer had to struggle to keep a smile from her face as she suddenly felt ill. “Thank you, that is very kind. But it is much too hot and crowded here for me to enjoy breakfast. I shall wait until the crowd clears.”
Illianah did not wait for a response and again turned to the stairs, only to find Valencio following her. “I thought I would take you to see the king this morning,” he said. “I am certain he is in better spirits today, and with me at your side, surely he would see you. I know you were greatly disappointed not to get in yesterday.”
She blinked and tried to think of something to say, but every response seemed more dangerous than the next. If she said that she no longer needed to see the king, Valencio would quickly make the connection between her—the runaway nobility—and the news of Princess Illianah’s escape. Whether or not Valencio would take this information to proper authorities seemed questionable. He seemed to be the type who would jump at the opportunity to hold a missing princess for ransom. It would be safer to agree with him and go before the king, but now that Burchess no longer had need to declare vengeance on Deltegra, was it really necessary for her to come forward? She felt as trapped as a rabbit in a cage.
“You are too kind,” she said. “But I am not well today. I am afraid I would be overcome with nerves and faint in the king’s presence.”
Illianah did not wait for his reply, but instead ran up the stairs to her bedchamber and locked the door. Her heart felt as if it would break out of her chest. She muttered a soft curse and then sat on the bed, vowing to never leave the room again.
Chapter Fifteen
She was able to success
fully hide in her bedchamber for two days; the innkeeper’s wife was even kind enough to bring meals upstairs. Yet Illianah knew pretending to be ill was not helping the situation, and was, in fact, making her problems worse. She would need to pay for another week’s stay in just two days, and not knowing where the money would come from plagued every inch of her body. She felt tense, like her body was wound as tight as a ball of yarn. She was not accustomed to feeling like this; it took the pleasure out of even a simple bite of food.
The innkeeper’s wife had brought Illianah further reports on the war. It sounded as if most of the kingdoms in the Western Corridor had accepted King Henrick’s proclamation, with the exception of Burchess. Burchess demanded that the princess be found immediately and returned to her throne to prove that she had not perished in the fire, as they claimed to have evidence that Illianah had indeed been in Cordana. Burchess had not wasted a moment after the fall of Cordana and had immediately marched southward toward Laencia. Illianah knew a great battle was imminent. With Burchessian troops coming from both Cordana and Freidlenburg, the soldiers at Laencia would be greatly outnumbered. Deltegra would lose yet another village to Burchess in a matter of days.
Illianah felt as if she was slowly turning black and dying inside, just like how frostbite claimed the fingers and toes of the woodsmen in the high mountains of Deltegra every winter. She longed to be with Donovan. To comfort him. To support him. To know of his plans in defending his kingdom. Her kingdom. If Deltegra fell, she knew the loss in her own heart would be the same as in the hearts of the citizens who were born there.
If there was something she could do—something she could say to turn the tide against Burchess, she would not hesitate to do so. But who would listen to her? She was a woman: insignificant and valued only as a piece of property.
On the third day of hiding in her bedchamber, she quietly left the inn after the breakfast hour. She did not see Valencio and hoped this meant that he had moved on to Bouron. Illianah went past the marketplace and headed for the shops, her head held high even though she felt as lowly as an ant. She began inquiring about work among the tailors and the dressmakers, but she was told no employment was needed as the slow season was upon them. She tried the shops, a lace school, and even a fabric mill, but no one even gave her a second glance, nor did they offer suggestions of where she may gain employment.
She returned to the inn after darkness had fallen upon the city. It was long after supper and her stomach growled at her angrily, but she was not going to ask the innkeeper to go out of his way to prepare a meal for her. She headed straight for her bedchamber, hoping for the night to be short so that breakfast may come quickly, but someone called out to her. Valencio.
“I heard you were feeling well again,” he said from his chair by the fire, “but you do not look it.”
Illianah sighed heavily—loud enough for Valencio to hear it—and said, “I must thank you. It pleases me to hear that you disapprove of my appearance.”
He grunted a laugh and then took a puff from his pipe. “You look hungry. Have you had supper?” he asked. His voice no longer sounded like he was mocking her, but sounded compassionate—if that was possible for a hardened sailor.
“No. I shall wait for breakfast.”
“Mr. Helifax,” Valencio said, calling the innkeeper from across the room, “bring us some supper. Miss Katherine is hungry.”
She tried to decline Valencio’s invitation, but he insisted; as she was weak of mind and body, she yielded without a battle.
Valencio had his feet propped up in a chair, but he quickly sat up and offered her that seat. “What a privilege to sit in the place where your muddy boots have so recently vacated,” she said.
He did not look offended like she hoped he would. He looked enlivened. “You must forgive me, as I am uncouth and I have had no woman to teach me how to behave.”
“Yes, I can see as much.”
He took another deep puff from his pipe and then asked, “Might I ask what you have been doing today? You look as if you have walked the entire city five times.”
“I have,” she said frankly. Admitting as much felt like she had just pulled the hair from her forearms.
“Did you try to go see the king? I told you I would …”
“I did not go to the palace.”
Valencio studied her and then said, “You were seeking employment.”
She did not know how he knew this; she swallowed the large lump of shame that had swelled within her throat.
“Did you not steal enough of your family’s gold when you ran away?” he asked with a laugh.
“I did not steal,” she answered curtly.
“They gave you money then? Your father said, ‘My darling Katherine. Here is a thousand farlings. Take it and run. Forget who you are and start a new life.’ I hardly imagine that being the case.”
“You are right: that was not the case,” she replied. “But it is none of your business.” She was firm with her words and she gave Valencio a harsh glare. “It is not becoming of a ‘gentleman’ to ask such things of a stranger.”
“You know what I think? I think the nobles make such rules only to hide their secrets from the world, lest anyone think them to be flawed.”
His words stung, as oftentimes, this was true. Politeness and courtesy did create a wall for misdeeds to hide behind. But her voice did not quiver as she responded, “Like it or not ‘Sir’ Valencio, it is part of the hierarchy system. If you plan to enter the king’s court, it is best you learn to abide by the rules.”
Again, his pipe went to his mouth, as if he needed a bridle to keep from saying something else uncivilized.
The innkeeper brought Illianah a plate with bread and a pale, unseasoned chunk of fowl. The food served at the inn made the food served at the castle of Andoradda seem like exotic delicacies, but Illianah was past the point of sticking up her nose at a meal. She began to cut away at her food, relieved to both have something in her stomach and a cease in conversation from Valencio.
Valencio appeared to be brooding and he again put his feet up on a nearby chair.
“It seems we have a need for each other’s services,” he said. “I am in need of training in the ways of gentlemen; you are in need of employment.”
He did not smile as he spoke, but rather looked like saying this brought him thoughts of misery.
“Employment?” she asked, grateful to hear that word rather than “engagement.”
“Yes. I would pay you a hundred farlings a month, plus room and board.”
“That is not much,” she said quickly.
“It is enough for a greenhorn; I will save my riches for my wife.”
It was easy to understand his meaning, especially given the way he looked on her with provocation. “And my duties?” she asked, redirecting the conversation.
“Simple. Run my household, which consists of a staff of four. I will be gone for the next three months. But when I come home, I expect to be schooled in the ways of nobility before being knighted at the beginning of the new year.”
Illianah hated that his offer did not sound completely terrible. An estate in the country near the quiet port of Bouron; the master of the house gone for three months. It would hardly be work and it would give her a chance to decide what to do with her newfound freedom. “And after you have been knighted? Would you still require my services?”
“No. I would not want your services. I would want a wife.”
She took a drink from her mug, hiding the impulse to cough at his suggestion. He expected her to accept his hand in marriage once her job was completed. It would be a reasonable offer for any other maiden, but she was not a maiden.
“If I do not wish to marry you …” she began, hoping he would still offer her the position without requiring her to making a perverse commitment.
But Valencio quickly shook his head and said, “That is the offer, Katherine. I will not take a woman into my home if she has no intent on staying there. I leave the
day after tomorrow.”
***
Illianah again rose early to try her luck with a few remaining shops on the outskirts of the shopping district. If she could find employment, she would not have to resort to becoming Valencio’s housekeeper. But when the final shop told her they had no need for an untrained seamstress, she began to realize that shackling herself to Valencio might be her only option. It was certainly better than cooking in the kitchen of an inn, especially since she did not even know how to boil a kettle of water.
A large garden had been cultivated in the area between the shopping district and the finer homes of the capital; Illianah sought refuge there to give herself time to think before she returned to the inn.
The people of Vieve knew how to live lavishly, much like the Burchessians, and Illianah found this garden nearly as pleasant as her own garden at the castle of St. Moraine. Although it was fall and many of the leaves were now under her feet rather than creating a canopy above her head, the garden was still beautiful. She counted five fountains as she walked the circumference of the highly hedged garden; each fountain featured a different statue portraying a member of the royal family of Vieve. She liked the queen’s fountain best. The small mosaic tiles of the fountain glimmered in the afternoon sunlight and reflected onto the queen, making her marble gown look like it had been a gift from the goddess of the sun.
It was at the queen’s fountain where Illianah chose to sit, and where she ultimately decided that she would accept Valencio’s offer to become his house mistress; yet she would never marry the man. It would be an act of duplicity—one that she would have a hard time forgiving herself for—but it did feel like a lesser evil than going back to Burchess. She would move to Bouron with Valencio, tend to his home while he was away, and then leave before he returned from sea. He would never find her and the wages she would earn would be rightfully hers to keep. She felt no guilt in that manner. But she did feel wretched for knowingly deceiving a man—something she had vowed to never again do. Illianah comforted herself by thinking that although Valencio would be mad, he would quickly recover and find himself a more suitable bride.
The Reign of Trees Page 19
