“I love you, too.” Taryn choked back more than a few tears.
After Eliahnna left, Taryn called out, “You can come out now, Tarro.”
The tailor entered her room, looking chagrined. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I left my basket of supplies.” He retrieved the bundle from the floor and bowed low to her. “I will speak of this to no one.”
“I would appreciate that. If they continue this folly, it will come out sooner or later, but I would like to stall that day as long as possible.” She gave him a wan smile. “Love is a tricky business, is it not?”
A lovely stain spread across his cheeks. “Indeed it is, my lady.”
“Do you have a special someone in your life? A handsome rogue, perhaps?”
The stain darkened to a furious red. “His name is Armando. He is a whore in Talaith, gods help me, but I love him.”
A whore? She couldn’t imagine the logistics of loving someone in that profession. It would certainly have its drawbacks, but the benefits might be worth it. “Does he return this affection?”
“He does. We live in a comfortable house in the Arlo district. Seven seasons we’ve been together.”
Taryn was impressed. “You must be a remarkable couple. I would love to meet him someday.” At Tarro’s look of shock, she hastily added, “Not in a professional manner, just as friends.”
“I would like that.”
At dinner, Taryn feigned interest during much of the conversation. The nobles still chattered about the attack, even a day later, each having their own idea of who was behind it and why they would target Taryn on a busy summer morning at the market.
Herbret hovered nearby, asking after her comfort, bringing her wine if her glass was empty. His false concern for her well-being intrigued her. Since their return to Paderau, his cavalier attitude had been replaced with one of modest servitude. At every opportunity, he tripped over himself to get in Taryn’s good graces.
The charade droned on until dessert when Taryn excused herself and joined her sisters in the garden. They sat beneath clear skies with a gentle breeze cooling the late summer night.
The princesses kept the conversation light, not wanting to dwell on the attack. Instead, they gossiped about courtiers and boys—their two favorite subjects. Marissa and Celia joined them, reclining on a sofa together. Several times throughout the evening, Celia would stop mid-sentence and glance off, never returning to what she was saying. When they pulled her attention back to the conversation, Celia would giggle and give a nonsensical excuse for her behavior. Too much wine, not enough dinner. Too many sweets, not enough sleep.
Taryn exchanged a look with Sabina that said, Something is not right with that girl.
“Sabina!” Celia said, a giggle beneath her tone. “Congratulations on your betrothal to Lord Valen. I couldn’t be happier for you. Truly.”
“We’re not betrothed. We’ve only just had permission to court. It might be several seasons before we take that step,” Sabina told the group.
“Oh, poo. We all know you’ll marry in the end. Why not just skip to the fun part now, while you’re still young and beautiful?”
Eliahnna looked sharply at Celia. “I doubt Sabina will ever be anything but beautiful. Why are you suddenly so in favor of the match? I thought just last wintertide you asked my mother if your father could petition Duke Anje for Hayden’s favor.”
A collective gasp made the round of ladies who reclined on the sofas, sipping wine and eating delicate pastries.
“Eliahnna,” Marissa said, her voice low, “this is most unsettling. I thought gossip beneath you.”
Taryn’s sisters glared at each other, a rare display of emotion from her younger sibling. But Celia ignored them both.
“Surely you don’t think I’m in love with the marquis? I fancied him for a spell, as every girl at court is bound to do, but I’ve found someone else.” She giggled again and fanned her face. “I’m in love.”
All eyes stared at Celia. Romance was the number one court intrigue, and none of the ladies had any knowledge of a lover.
“With whom?”
“Why haven’t I been told of this?”
“When can we meet this suitor of yours?”
It was a volley of questions lobbed at the poor girl.
Celia did a little shimmy with her shoulders and giggled some more. Taryn and Sabina shared another look. Something was definitely not right.
Marissa stood to leave, but Celia stayed seated. “Oh, I don’t know. Harvest, perhaps. There are so many plans to be made. You’ll be the first to know, I promise you,” Celia said to no one in particular, her gaze off in the distance.
Marissa yanked Celia’s arm until the girl stood, wobbling against the princess. “Ladies, I’m afraid Celia’s caught whatever malady I suffered from yesterday. If you’ll excuse me, I should get her to her room.”
They stumbled through the garden, Marissa’s hissed recriminations echoing above the flowers.
“Too much wine,” one woman said.
“Far too much,” another concurred.
The conversation lulled for several minutes until Sabina asked, “Do you think Hayden wants to get married?” Her tone suggested she wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not.
“If you’re just going to talk about boys, I’m going to bed.” Tessa stretched out her lithe body and yawned. “Boys are stupid.”
“I’ll go with you.” Taryn took her little sister’s hand in her own. “And we’ll talk about something other than boys, okay?”
They discussed toads and poisons and swords on the way to their rooms. Tessa was fascinated with anything creepy-crawly or deadly. Almost as much as she was with weaponry. Having to endure the older princess’s obsession with courtship was akin to torture for the young girl.
When they reached Tessa’s rooms, Taryn knelt in front of her sister. “Would you like to have a sleepover?”
“A what?”
“You get your jammies and sleep in my room tonight. We’ll stay up late talking about whatever you want. And maybe, if you’re very good and you promise not to tell anyone, we can have a sword fight.”
Tessa’s entire face blossomed. Despite Taryn’s begging, Lliandra had yet to let the other girls train with her. Taryn knew Tessa had a wooden sword hidden in her belongings and told her to grab it, along with anything else she might need overnight. They made a quick trip to the kitchen gardens with Kaida, then to the kitchen itself, making sure no one saw them, before returning to Taryn’s rooms with an armful of pilfered food from the pantry.
They ate, talked, and laughed for much of the night. Taryn had never spent much time with someone Tessa’s age, but the girl was acutely aware of what happened around her. More so than anyone gave her credit for. Being the fourth in line to the throne and too young for marriage prospects, most courtiers discounted her, but the girl had potential. Tessa was a fighter who had learned how to navigate the murky waters of court life without a safety net and made an island for herself where she could anchor when storms got rough.
Kaida slept with them in Taryn’s giant bed, curled into Tessa’s midsection, her paws over her muzzle. Taryn woke early and watched the two of them sleep. Their chests rose with each breath in and snuffle out. Tessa’s clear skin and fair curls shone with streaks of sunlight that filtered through the windows, and Taryn’s heart hiccuped with the amount of love she had for her sister. She ran her fingers through Kaida’s impossibly soft fur. Her failure in the market could never happen again. If that had been Tessa or Eliahnna instead of Gris… She squeezed her eyes shut against the thought. Tears fought for release, and Taryn leaned close to Tessa, kissing her forehead.
“I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”
When she looked down, Kaida watched her with a cognizance not expected of a puppy.
“What are you looking at, furball?” Taryn scratched beneath Kaida’s chin. “I love you, too, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Kaida st
retched and yawned, her milky sweet puppy breath filling the space.
“Is it fair that I took you from your home? Would you have rather stayed there to fend for yourself?” Kaida licked Taryn’s fingertips and then groomed her fur. “I’ll take that as a sign that you like me, but remember, no eating the palace cats. Or anyone’s dog. If you get hungry, eat the rats. Not the horses. Or the people.”
“Well, some people.” Tessa’s sleepy voice cut through the morning air. “There are a few I can think of, but they might not taste all that good.”
“That’s not very nice.” Taryn tickled her sister until they were both laughing so hard their sides hurt.
Once dressed, Taryn took them to the kitchens for breakfast. Carga gave Taryn a curious look but said nothing about her guest. At the sight of Kaida, the Eleri princess lost a touch of her usual reserve and held the bundle of fur with something close to glee.
After they ate, Taryn led them to the training ring, where she set up a pen for Kaida and gave Tessa one of the wooden swords to practice with. Tessa’s eyes grew large, questioning, but Taryn assured her it would be fine.
Her youngest sister wore one of her shifts, which limited her range of motion considerably, but the girl had spirit and moved through the lesson with admirable speed and dexterity. Half a bell into their training, Baehlon arrived, grumping about the early hour and the brightness of the sun. When he saw Kaida, he frowned, but when he saw Tessa, he outright bellowed.
“Does your mother know she’s here?”
Taryn signaled for him to keep his voice down. “I’ll deal with her when I have to. Get in here and help or go back to bed.”
He chose to stay, much to Taryn’s astonishment, and relief. Lliandra would be pissed when she found out, but then, when wasn’t she upset with Taryn for one thing or another?
For the remainder of their stay, Taryn’s secret didn’t reach the empress. Or if it did, the empress chose to ignore it. Each morning, Tessa would join Taryn in the training ring, and in the afternoon, she would run alongside the servants and nobles in their impromptu football games. Sabina chose to sit beneath a skirm tree and watch the game rather than playing. Eliahnna joined them on one occasion, and even Marissa gave the game a go, begging off after only a few minutes.
The games were more of a time killer than anything, and they often played with more than the requisite number of players on the field. Taryn had Tarro make Tessa a pair of shorts and a loose blouse for her to wear for their training, but the girl had taken to wearing the garments around the palace at all times, except for dinner. Even Tessa knew not to court the wrath of their mother that much.
The evening before they were to leave Paderau, Duke Anje held a grand feast. They dined outdoors where tables had been set up on their playing field. Candles drifted overhead, suspended on tufts of ShantiMari. Servants brought them dishes on silver platters, and they ate until their waistbands expanded a little too much.
After the meal, a band set up in the garden, and they all danced between rosebushes and ornamental hedges. Taryn’s pendant hummed along to a somber song as she waltzed with Rhoane. The lyrics teased her memory, but she couldn’t quite grasp them.
“Do you know the words to this tune?” she asked.
Rhoane thought for a moment, keeping step with the music. “I do not believe there are lyrics, only melody.”
“I could swear there are words.”
Duke Anje tapped Rhoane on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”
Rhoane released Taryn into Anje’s waiting hand and stood to the side where she knew he would watch over her. Since the assassin’s attack, Rhoane made certain Taryn was guarded at all times. Each morning, she would wake to find at least one soldier positioned outside her rooms. Whoever had drawn the short straw had her sympathy. Certainly, no one was going to volunteer for that job.
“Do you know the lyrics to this song?” Taryn asked Anje, pulling her mind back to the moment.
“Not that I can recall. It’s rather a sad tune, don’t you think?” He hummed a bit, shaking his head.
“It’s a song of the Dark,” Taryn said, uncertain how she knew. “Hey, you can teach me to use my Dark ShantiMari. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”
“Ah, my sweet lass, I’ve lived too long in the Light. ShantiMari needs to be stretched and let free to gallop, like a fine horse. I’m afraid I’ve let my skills fade. Hayden though,” he cast a quick glance at Lliandra, “will know a trick or two. Nothing as powerful as your brother. He could get you started. It’s just a matter of unlocking the secrets.”
Taryn groaned. “I really hate secrets. And riddles. Why can’t this be easy?”
Anje’s good-natured laugh jiggled his midsection, tickling her. “If it was simple, then what’s the point?”
The music changed to a reel, and he moved her away from the other dancers to a part of the garden where jasmine trailed over arches, mingling with wisteria to perfume the air. Two guards strolled not far behind.
“When you get to Talaith, there are some arrangements I’d like you to make.”
“Like what?” Taryn asked, curious what her uncle was planning.
“Setting up your household, for one. Seek out Master Beary, he’ll help you with servants and the like. Take Hayden with you. I’ve informed him of everything you’ll need.”
“But why? I didn’t have any of that before.”
“Do you enjoy being a ward of your mother?” Taryn didn’t need to answer. He knew she didn’t. “This will give you autonomy. Yes, you’ll be living in your mother’s palace, but you’ll have your own maids, your own servants, all loyal to you.” Anje placed a pouch in her hands. “I understand you’re having difficulties with one of your maids in Talaith. A little coin goes a long way with some folks.”
Taryn shouldn’t have been surprised he knew, but she was. “She doesn’t like me. It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal, as you say, if she’s in the pocket of your sister. You can either bid higher for her loyalty or fire her and find someone you can trust.”
“Like that’ll be easy. It’s not as if I have a truth meter I can just whip out and see who’s loyal and who isn’t.”
Anje shook his head. “You say the most curious things, my favorite niece.”
“Favorite, eh? My sisters will be so jealous.”
“You are my only niece by blood, which is why it is so important to me that you find servants at the Crystal Palace who you can trust with your life. Not so much maids as bodyguards. That giant of a knight of yours helped me choose six of my best soldiers to accompany you to Talaith. They’ll be a part of your personal guard. Trust them to find a few more. You’ll not get much help from your mother. Gods bless her, but she thinks only of her crown.”
“I’m not sure I want her choosing my personal guards or my maids. I wish you were coming with us to Talaith.”
“I have work to occupy my time here, but I’ll see you before too long.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Lliandra strolled through the narrow space between the hedges, her jewels catching the candlelight, casting prisms over them. She noticed the pouch in Taryn’s hand and cast a petulant look at Anje. “Spoiling Taryn won’t bring her back, you know.”
Anje’s face paled and his cheeks turned crimson. “It’s my right to give my niece whatever I like. Be it coin or advice. Neither of which she gets from her mother.” He gave a curt bow and strode away, his footfalls heavy on the pebbled path.
Taryn glared at her mother. “That was cold.”
“Perhaps. I don’t like the influence he has over you. Anje is cousin to Valterys, never forget that.” Lliandra smoothed back an errant curl off Taryn’s forehead. “You do resemble her, you know.” Taryn didn’t need Lliandra to tell her she meant Gwyneira. Taryn had heard it often enough from the courtiers and saw it reflected back at her in the many portraits hanging throughout the palace.
“He misses her.”
“He needs to find a new wif
e. Someone young enough to give him heirs. But I didn’t come here to talk about Anje or my sister. I wanted to thank you for what you’re doing for Tessa. She’s positively in awe of you.”
“You don’t mind? I know I should’ve asked your permission first, but she seemed so happy that I didn’t want to spoil it.”
“Yes, you should have asked, but what’s done is done. I’m glad that you’ve taken her under your wing, so to speak. She needs someone to look up to.”
“Tessa’s great. Eliahnna, too. You should spend more time with them, or at the very least let them have some space to run free. Cooping them up in the palace can’t be any fun. Give them a chance to explore the world, get to know people besides courtiers and servants.”
“So, you would tell me how to parent?” A dangerous light shone from the depths of her dusky blue eyes. “Would you also tell me how to run my kingdom?”
Lliandra’s stare could cut ice with precision and Taryn chose her words with care, her voice light and carefree. “Hell to the no. Kids, I understand, having been one myself not long ago, but politics? I’ll leave that to the experts, like you.”
She pressed her lips against Lliandra’s cheek, feeling the aridness of the woman’s skin, breathing in the scent of jasmine and death. Perfumed decay. Taryn stepped back to look her mother full in the face. Her Mari was intact, giving the illusion of robust health and beauty.
“Are you well, Mother?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?” Lliandra tossed a long curl over her shoulder and sniffed the night air. “I don’t enjoy being so far from the coast at this time of year, but I feel fine.”
“And you look amazing.”
“Flattery? And you said you don’t have a head for politics. Should I hide the scepter now or wait until there’s a coup?”
The Stones of Resurrection Page 41
