Lord and Servant: (Book I of the Elementals Series)

by Marisol Logan

  Lord and Servant

  - Book I of the Elementals Series -

  by Marisol Logan

  Thanks to my wonderful sisters and my mom, and love to my husband, for all their support. Special thanks to my editors, the amazing Jessicas, who made this book possible.

  Copyright © 2016 Marisol Logan

  All rights reserved

  Cover Design: Romacdesigns

  Editors: Jessica Evans and Jessica Young

  -I-

  Veria sat in front of the mirror, and examined the gaunt, pale, made-up figure that stared back at her. Her spring green eyes were striking and wide, and burst with color against her amethyst dress, and complimented her dusty gold hair, all of which was pulled tightly away from her face in complicated braids and twists. She stared into her own eyes, and they widened instinctively, making her look crazed or surprised. Then when she relaxed, the emptiness she usually recognized in them returned.

  As she studied herself in the mirror—her perfect posture, her reddened lips, the intricate gold lacework positioned perfectly at her chest, her bony cheeks and chin, and those empty chartreuse eyes—she realized that she never remembered being a child. Not in the typical sense that one would say that sort of thing. Most people don't remember their childhood, as is how the mind and memory function. Veria, on the other hand, did not remember behaving or thinking like a child ever in her life. All she could ever remember being was the Ladyship of Longberme. All she could remember was behaving and thinking, and being told to behave and think, that way.

  And here she sat. Years of her life wasted. And she wasted them still, drudging along in this role she felt no duty to, an idea that was never hers. And she couldn't even fathom what her life would be like without it, because she had no concept of what there was outside of it.

  As a very young child, in the portion of her childhood that she didn't actually remember, she supposedly, as relayed to her years later by her mother, would spend a lot of time in the kitchen, asking the servants what they had done over their days off. And the simplest things would astound her. A walk in the park, feeding the red birds, visiting a Mager Fair, trying a new Esperan dish. She found it all fascinating. But those were things that common folk did, her mother would say. And her mother found it amusing and endearing that her little Lady Veria found such excitement in the commonplace actions of commonplace people. Veria herself found these reports of her childhood disturbing and depressing.

  If she had wanted to go out and ride a pony or hear her future at the Mager Fair like the gardener's daughter, why shouldn't she have? And Esperan cooking wasn't allowed in the Longberme household because it was all commoner food, but Veria had always wanted to try it. She knew some of the spices and meats they used, and to her, it sounded anything but common.

  The figure she saw in the mirror of her vanity was a shell. A wasted vessel. A body, but not a person. A person experiences things, fantastic things, and exciting things and depressing things, whether they are common things or not. All she had experienced in her life was a twisted preparation for things that she would get to experience later in her life.

  Lady Veria Jain Pyer Laurelgate of Longberme was born the illegitimate daughter of Lord Gordon Laurelgate of Longberme and Tanisca Pyer. Tanisca, her mother, was the daughter of a red-listed Fire Mager and a forest-dwelling homeless woman. Tanisca, gifted with the powers of deception inherited from her father, had aspirations to power and fortune that led her to ensnare the married and wealthy Lord Gordon and give birth to his child. When Veria was about five years of age, Lord Gordon's first wife passed away, and he called upon Tanisca to move into Longberme and marry him, making Veria the official heir to the estate.

  All of it had sounded like so much fun when she was little. “You will attend dances, and feasts, and wear the finest gowns and gems,” her mother would tell her each night. And moving into the Longberme Estate, with its grandiose gardens and endless rooms, was one of the fondest memories of that time period that most called a “childhood”. If she had known then, she thought, that this estate would be the only thing she'd get to experience in her life, she probably would have felt differently about taking up residence.

  Veria flung a bottle of sweet musk at the wall in frustration, just as her mother walked in to the room unannounced.

  “What is the problem, dear?” her mother asked, not in the typical caring tone that most mothers would use, but in a tone that suggested her adult daughter was behaving like an insolent child.

  “I don't want to go tonight,” Veria mumbled, looking down at the gold lace at her breast. “I don't want to do this anymore.”

  Tanisca sighed. “Do what, exactly, Veria?”

  “Why can't you be the Ladyship?”

  “Oh, not this again,” Tanisca groaned and threw herself down into a vacant chair near the door.

  “I am serious!” Veria snapped. “I haven't done anything in my whole life except try to better my Regal standings by chasing after unmarried Lords with a larger estate than I have. It is a disgrace, and a depressing disgrace at that! And I'll not spend another second on it.”

  “Well, you have already dressed for tonight. You may as well go.”

  “What is the point, mother? It is not as if any of the unmarried Lords are interested, after what happened with father. Although at least they are unmarried.”

  Tanisca's eyes narrowed at her daughter, and then she smirked, as she always did, to show that another person's hateful slander of her life choices had no effect on her. “Veria, if that was some sort of an attempt by you to hurt me enough to get me to leave so you can wallow in your self-pity, you, as always, have failed,” Tanisca sneered. “I understand that your father's scandal has left a damper on your marriage prospects. So you will probably have to draw a new hand of cards.”

  Veria shot a look at her mother, trying to read her face and figure the meaning of her words at the same time. As far as she knew there were only four suits to work with when it came to men: common men, unmarried men, married men, and fathers.

  “You mean play the hand like you did?” Veria asked. “I think not.”

  “You don't have a choice,” her mother snapped. “If you don't find a higher Regaled Lord and produce an heir, by whatever means you can, this estate will have no fortune and no future.”

  “Why do you care? You only care about yourself, and I am done spending my life making yours more comfortable,” Veria muttered. But her heart turned in her chest as her mother rose sharply from her seat and strode quickly over to her, dropping her face down next to her daughter's in the vanity mirror.

  “Is that what you think? Is that why you think I put myself through the Fire of choosing a married Lord over some common man?” she snarled in her daughter's ear. “There were common men lined up outside my door each night, wanting to marry me and give me a child. But I knew if I were going to bring a child into this world, she would come into it with a much higher position than I did. I wish you could think the same for your future children.”

  Tanisca stood slowly and sauntered to the door. “My suggestion is you go to the Regalship Feast tonight, looking just like you do now, and you shall definitely catch some interest,” she said before leaving the room.

  Veria hastily checked her appearance in the mirror. No longer perfect and collected, she noticed that her eye makeup had smudged into a smoky ring with the beginning formation of tears, and her eyes themselves looked lonely and desperate.

  If that was all that men were looking for, she thought, she should have been married multiple times already.

  Upon her mother's advice, or whatever one might
call it, Veria went to the Feast looking just as she did. The meal was no different than any other, although the music was a bit livelier than usual. Or was it just that she was not as lively as she usually forced herself to be? But when the dancing begun, she decided enough was enough and started toward the cloak hangers in the entryway.

  As she grabbed her violet cape, a voice behind her made her jump.

  “Leaving already?”

  Veria whirled around to see a dark-haired, slick-bearded gentlemen, a bit older than herself, hiding amongst the men's cloaks and puffing on a smoke horn.

  “You frightened me!” she gasped and giggled, placing a hand to her chest.

  “You frightened me,” the man argued, playfully. “I didn't expect anyone in here for hours! I must not be that great at throwing these things. Actually, ignore that statement. I know I am not good at it.”

  Veria laughed. Although the man's initial appearance was gruff and dreary, he looked shy and gentle. “This is your Regalship Feast?” she asked, folding her cape neatly over her arm. “You must be Lord Chadron, then.”

  “Please, call me Rames,” he said, puffing out a billowy plume of thick white smoke that smelled of flora. “I tire of all that Lord Rames the Third, of Chadron and North Chadron drivel. Don't you?”

  “No one has ever called me that before, actually,” Veria joked, coyly.

  Rames choked on his smoke as he chuckled. “Well, what do they call you then?” he asked.

  Now, Veria thought to herself, is the chance to lie. Do not say your name. Do not tell him where you are from, she said to herself. He has probably heard of your father's scandal, and as of now, he is mildly intrigued. Think of something! Think of something quickly.

  “Lady Jane,” she fibbed. And contrary to how she thought she'd be at blatantly lying, she felt like it was quite convincing.

  “Lady Jane...” Lord Rames repeated quietly. “Where art thou a Lady of, Lady Jane?”

  “Let's not ruin us getting to know each other with the drivel of where we are from,” she said with a sly grin as she hung her cape back on the hook. She didn't know where all this allure and mystery was coming from, but where had it been before? Her mother had placed some form of desperation in her that was fueling hidden talents of man-catching she never knew she had.

  “Agreed, let's not,” Lord Rames said, and he sat down on a bench in the hallway near the cloak room. He motioned for Veria to join, and she did. “So, Lady Jane, be honest. How is the Feast?”

  Be honest...she laughed in her mind at the irony. “To be completely truthful, I thought the music during dinner was unappetizingly upbeat.”

  Lord Rames threw his head back and laughed loudly. “You have got me there,” he said, still chuckling. “It really was.”

  “I don't think anyone else noticed,” Veria giggled.

  “Then maybe I will just keep it that way,” Lord Rames said, looking intently at her, with a large grin. “And when it becomes so unbearably joyful for you to stand, we can meet in the hall and chat about how much fun it is to hide in cloak rooms.”

  Suddenly faced with the prospect of an actual prospect, Veria found that all of her preparation was for naught. She had no clue what to do when a man was actually interested, and looking at her the way Lord Rames was looking at her, with inquiring eyes and a self-conscious smile. She grinned politely back at him, and was saved by a rush of dancers on a break to the gardens for fresh air. They parted gazes.

  “When—when is your next Regalship Feast, then, Lord Chadron? I mean, Lord Rames,” Veria said, her voice quiet and quaking a bit.

  “Just Rames, please. Every first crescent moon, until I find a wife,” he groaned, and sounded as forced into the whole thing as she did. “I mean—I'm sorry, that was rude.”

  “Not at all,” Veria said. “I know how you feel.”

  “So, you are eligible then?” he asked, and leaned in toward her a bit.

  She felt hot blood rush through her arms and face, and she clenched her fists, as she had always done when she was nervous. “I might be,” she answered, attempting to keep her allure alive.

  “Ah, I see,” he laughed. “You are playing mysterious with me, Lady Jane. And not only that, you are about to abandon me here to dance the night away with these lively fools!” he teased playfully, and they both laughed. “Well, the mysterious bit is working, I will just have you know.”

  Veria looked down at her elegantly robed lap and blushed. Then, silently, she stood.

  “You are going to leave me here!” Lord Rames laughed, and he quickly stood to grab her cape for her. “To fend for myself in the nasty world of timed dances and boring conversation. And I will be stuck thinking of you all night.”

  Veria smirked as he put her cape over her shoulders for her. Without a word, for fear that one more word might ruin everything, she walked toward the door, which the doorman pushed open for her.

  “How will I see you if I want to see you?” Rames shouted out to her. “I don't even know your Regalship Estate!”

  “I will see you at the next crescent moon,” she yelled back. “And I shall be expecting that you have not yet found a wife!”

  When she arrived home, the new servant opened the back door for her. She always preferred to come in through the servants' door into the kitchen, as her mother's den was near the grand entrance, and if Veria woke her with her entry, she always wanted a full report of the night's events.

  Veria was still in a haze after going over and over her interaction with Lord Chadron the entire coach ride back to Longberme Estate. She wasn't sure if she was actually attracted to him, but he was interesting and they seemed to have a lot in common. Oh, but the rush of having someone finally be interested in her! Even if it was all based on a lie, she had to remind herself.

  “You look pleased,” the servant spoke, and she did not recognize his accent.

  “Excuse me?” she said, and felt bad when she realized it came across rather terse. Then again, Mother was always telling her she shouldn't be so polite to the servants.

  “I mean, Your Ladyship Longberme,” he quickly corrected and dropped his head.

  “Please, call me Lady Veria,” she instructed. “I did not catch what you said. Where is your accent from?”

  “Esperan. I am from Esperan. My father is from here, but that is where I was born and raised,” he answered, and his voice was as smooth and silken as melted coacoa. Words rolled off his tongue with such a delicate ease, she realized how harsh and clumsy her own speech must sound. “I was simply saying that you look very pleased. Was the Feast worth your time, Lady Veria?”

  He took her cape from her shoulders, and as he began to hang it up, she grabbed his wrist and examined the cape. “Yes, it was worth my time,” Veria mumbled as she realized that the cape in the servant's hand was indigo. “This is not my cape.”

  “Oh,” the Esperan said, and he let go of it.

  “Lord Chadron must have given me the wrong cape so I would have to pay him another visit,” she explained with a smirk.

  “That is very smart,” the Esperan said. He took a broom from a rack near the door and began sweeping the ash near the fire.

  “Well, he seems to be a smart man,” Veria said.

  “He must be, if he is interested in you, my Lady,” he said, keeping his eyes on his chore. With his sunned skin, dark chin-length hair hiding his face, and the dim nature of the kitchen at night, Veria regretted that she could not see the servant's face to tell if he was blushing or smiling. Without saying good night, she took a light and went up to her room, where she laboriously undressed without any help, and then fitfully slept.

  -II-

  After giving her mother the obligatory full report of the Feast, they decided together that she should wait at least a week before visiting to exchange capes. This was a decision based on maintaining mystery and allure, one area in which Veria would never doubt her mother's skills.

  Her gut grew hot every time discussion of her deception took
place. She wanted to come clean as soon as possible, but her mother said it was unnecessary and encouraged her to continue the Lady Jane cover until engagement was imminent—another topic of discussion that made her more than a little uneasy.

  “If he consults the Regalship Consortium, they will discover the truth!” Veria argued. “I will be exposed, and part of even more scandal.”

  “You let me worry about those nosy Magers in the Consortium,” her mother said. “You worry about hooking Lord Chadron. Oh, I am so proud of you. The Chadron Estate is one of the wealthiest in the Regalship! And the Lordship's parents have had quite a time finding a suitor the he will even give the decency of second glance.”

  “He only fancies me because I am completely deceiving him,” Veria groaned.

  “I doubt the truthfulness of that statement,” Tanisca said, and she began looking through a stack of parchment that had come in at lunch, brought by the Esperan, whom Veria had watched the whole time he was in the room to see if she could get a better glimpse of his face.

  “Who is the nosy Mager now?” Veria teased.

  “I'm not using my powers, Via,” Tanisca said, using her pet name for her daughter, which always made Veria feel like she was twelve, asking for the hundredth time to go ride the pony at the silly Fair. “You said yourself he was dark, and a little different. Maybe you are just his type.”

  “I did not realize I was any man's type,” Veria mumbled. Her mother ignored her statement.

  “Maybe he will even enjoy your dark secrets. Who knows? Maybe he'd even like you better if he knew you really are Her Ladyship Veria Laurelgate of Longberme, ensconced in scandal as you may be,” her mother scoffed.

  “So you think I should tell him?”

  “Ha! Not a chance.”

  The day passed quietly, as Veria's mother went about calling a seamstress to Longberme to have a new dress made for the specific purpose of the cape exchange.