“Myadar, may I introduce Jarl Taf Spraki,” Reister said with a toothy smile. He gestured to the man standing beside Jarl Spraki—he was young as well, perhaps twenty, and his hair escaped the discipline of the slicked style all the men wore in a few rebellious curls. “This is Jarl Liut Krigr.”
“A pleasure, Jarldis Sölbói,” Jarl Krigr said, taking my hand and bowing over it in a brisk movement.
“You changed your dress,” Jarl Spraki said, his mouth twisting into a smirk. I looked down and locked my eyes on his cravat, unable to think of a response. “A pity. I so enjoyed the red one.”
“Please forgive my companion,” Jarl Krigr said, stepping forward. It forced Jarl Spraki to readjust his stance and move behind Krigr a bit. I felt oddly grateful to Krigr for this. “He has forgotten his manners. And why should a dress cause such silly talk? I thought the embroidery was quite lovely, myself. And surely one cannot expect the provinces to follow the fashions of the capital. As if you had nothing better to do.”
A smile broke over my face although I didn’t intend for it to. I closed my lips but still gazed at Krigr with warmth. He met my eyes—his own were dark amber. There was something strange about the pupils; they weren’t quite the right shape.
“Undoubtedly so,” Reister agreed, standing stiffly at my side. Spraki’s wasn’t the first rude comment I’d endured, and until now Reister had laughed along with those who made them. I wondered if Krigr had managed to shame him for it. I doubted it.
“Liut, darling, do introduce me to your new friend.”
The speaker was a woman, perhaps two or three years older than the jarls. Her thick blonde hair flowed messily around her face, some shorter strands curling, but mostly in waves. She wore a cream-colored dress trimmed in silky fringe across the neckline, and four long strands of pearls. With one hand she played with a strand, and the other she draped over Krigr’s shoulder. I wondered if she was his wife.
“Jarldis Finnarún Vaenn,” Krigr said, answering my question, “meet Jarldis Myadar Sölbói.”
Jarldis Vaenn gazed at me from under hooded eyelids. Her eyes were the dark blue of a night sky, seemingly at odds with her sunlit hair. She smiled slowly, her expression seductive. I was glad, for the first time, that Reister insisted I keep my hand resting on his arm. No woman had ever looked at me like that, and it had been ten years since any man had. Her eyes spoke of devouring me. My heart raced and I looked away, unable to cover my confusion.
“Reister, dear, no wonder you kept her hidden away,” Jarldis Vaenn said with a golden laugh. “She’s quite delightful. Graceful as a daffodil.”
I looked up at Reister. His face remained neutral, but I could see the slight narrowing of his eyes that told me he did not like Jarldis Vaenn.
“Naturally,” Reister said. “But I always thought she might wilt in the company of one so radiant as yourself, Jarldis Vaenn.”
“Reister, you old flatterer,” Jarldis Vaenn said with another laugh. But did I detect an edge in her tone?
“Excuse us,” Reister said. “I want to be sure to greet Jarl Snúa and his wife.”
“Of course,” Krigr said with a slight bow.
“A pleasure to meet you, Jarldis Sölbói,” Spraki said.
“Oh, Taf,” Jarldis Vaenn said. “Have you been there the whole time? You’ve been so quiet I didn’t notice you.”
“Well, Liut—”
“Never mind, dear Taf,” she said. She turned her dark eyes to Reister once more. “You can’t just expect to whisk Jarldis Sölbói away like that when we’re only just getting to know her, Reister darling. I should just die of disappointment.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now, would we, Reister?” Liut said with an easy grin at Jarldis Vaenn.
“Certainly not,” Reister said, his own smile not touching his eyes. “But there are so many people for Jarldis Sölbói to meet. You mustn’t monopolize her now.”
Jarldis Vaenn pursed her lips in a pretty pout. “Perhaps not… now. But I’ll have to steal her away later. Would you like that, Jarldis Myadar?”
Her misuse of my given name paired with my title startled me. I had been watching their exchange in a detached state and when she addressed me directly I had a strange sensation of suddenly coming into focus—into existence. I felt my cheeks flush and my mouth felt dry.
She dropped the pearls and reached out, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Perhaps I could take you to have your hair done. What do you say? Would you like to have it bobbed? You can see it’s all the rage. I’ll wager you could put a wave in it.”
“I—I don’t know—” I managed.
“I’m sure Myadar would appreciate your guidance,” Reister put in.
Jarldis Vaenn smiled at him. “Yes. And maybe I could introduce her to Leika-Konungdis. And who knows, maybe the konunger himself. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Reister?”
The two red spots returned to the skin of Reister’s cheekbones. “Certainly,” he said through his teeth.
“Well, then, I’ll come round some time soon, shall I?” she said, her eyes meeting mine.
“I suppose so,” I murmured. The way she looked at me awakened my skin as if she was touching me. The feeling was so powerful, I started to tremble. It was disturbing, and I wanted to flee. I didn’t want to see her soon—I wanted to leave this place and return to my home, to my easy daily life, to safety.
“Now, Finnarún, you’ll have to let the Sölbóis go on about their greetings,” Liut said with a smile. He gazed at me with his strange eyes and because Jarldis Vaenn had already stripped my skin raw, his stare raked me as well. A shudder passed through me, but in the next moment Reister steered me away from them.
I released a sigh, and only then did I realize I’d been holding my breath. For how long? I’d spoken—I must have been breathing then. How unsettling to think I was so disturbed I’d stopped breathing—and hadn’t even realized it. I had to find a way to convince Reister to let me go home. I couldn’t stay here, among these people, who made me feel so bewildered. I had to get away from here, the sooner the better.
~~~
Not long after that, Reister dismissed me from his side, saying he had business to discuss with another jarl. I thought I would slip off to our apartments and curl up in bed but he must have known what I would do.
“I will be watching you, Myadar,” he said. “I want to see you among the crowd, talking to people and charming them.”
“I’m no Jarldis Vaenn.”
“You could learn a thing or two from Jarldis Vaenn,” he said. Then he leaned in so his face was so close I felt his breath on me. “If you disappear, Myadar… if I don’t see you when I cast my eye over the crowd… you will regret it.”
I had half a mind to defy him, but since I knew he had not yet forgiven me for the humiliation of my entrance at the coronation, it seemed unwise to push matters further. It was one night. I would find someone to talk to… some older jarldis, perhaps—someone sedate—nothing like Jarldis Vaenn or Jarl Krigr. I could still feel their eyes on my skin.
“Very well then,” I said.
“And Myadar,” Reister stopped me as I turned away, “if you happen to meet the konunger, try to make a good impression.”
I chose to make no answer to this, and headed towards a settee where a silver robot served drinks to two older jarldises. I selected a drink from the waiter’s tray and sat next to them, casting a glance back at Reister. He bent his head close to the face of a rotund older man with a florid complexion. We had been introduced, but I couldn’t remember his name.
“You’re Jarl Sölbói’s wife, aren’t you,” said the jarldis I sat next to.
“Yes. I’m Jarldis Myadar Sölbói,” I said, giving her a nod.
She sniffed and turned to her companion. “She’s the one I was telling you about.”
The other jarldis looked me up and down. “I see nothing strange about her dress. And didn’t you tell me it was red?”
�
��Oh she wasn’t wearing that,” the first said. “She must have changed before the ball.”
They carried on talking about me as if I wasn’t there for quite some time. I stayed where I sat, ignoring them. It was easier to bear their rudeness than chance running into Jarldis Vaenn or Liut Krigr again. And yet I found I couldn’t stop my eyes from searching for them in the crowd. I told myself that I did it to better avoid them, however the emotion I felt when I could not find them was not relief, but disappointment.
Krigr had been kind to me, I reminded myself. It wasn’t so odd to feel this strange attachment to him. And Vaenn… well, she certainly showed more interest in me than most—and not for the scandal of my dress, either. Perhaps I was just longing to escape the petty gossips who couldn’t let me forget my faux pas. I just wanted to see the two who had recognized something else in me. It didn’t mean I would talk to them again. It didn’t mean I wanted their company. Just to see them again, that was all.
I surveyed the ballroom and noted that Reister and the rotund man had disappeared. The room was enormous but very open, and the settee stood on a raised platform against the wall, along with other chaises, divans, and chairs. They had been placed there, I had no doubt, to allow those who chose to sit in them to observe the crowd, for from my vantage point I could see the whole ballroom. I could not spot Reister, although I did find Mother Tora all the way across from me. And Krigr and Vaenn were nowhere to be seen, either.
At one end of the ballroom an orchestra played and people danced in the strangest fashion. I watched them swish and whirl around in couples. The new konunger and his wife swayed among them, leading every dance for quite some time. The chandeliers—massive sparkling crystal monstrosities above us—lit the whole room, and the light reflected in bright flashes off the konunger’s costume of gold and the konungdis’s dress of silver. Her curls flew around her face as they spun, and he grinned at her with perfect, straight teeth.
Then the musicians stopped, and the konunger gestured to them. The players—almost all human, save for one robot who played the piano—deserted their instruments. He was letting them take a break.
The konunger and his wife walked into the crowd arm in arm.
I remembered what Reister said, and anxiety gripped me. I didn’t want to meet the royal couple. I didn’t know how to make a good impression. Did they know about the disruption I caused right before their coronation? I wished with every breath that I could disappear and be forgotten forever.
Let me return home, I prayed to no god in particular, and I shall tend the estate and raise my son in peace, and I shall never wish for anything more.
But the royal couple made their way as if they had a purpose, and in moments they stood at ground level before the settee. It occurred to me that I should be the one looking up at them. Flustered, I stood up—I would have hurried down off the platform, but standing made me even taller, and I didn’t know how to get down quickly and gracefully without appearing to be accosting them. Miserable, I searched the room for anyone who might rescue me—Reister, Mother Tora, even Krigr or Vaenn. But it was too late.
“Jarldis Sölbói, if I’m not mistaken,” said Eiflar-Konunger. He stood there in all his golden glory. He was a young man—possibly younger than me by a year or two. He was square-jawed, and his light blue eyes watched me lazily. His wife was much younger than him—hardly twenty, I guessed. Leika-Konungdis arched her dark, perfectly shaped eyebrows and scrutinized me from head to toe.
“Quite an improvement over your dress at the coronation, from what I gather,” she said, her tone acidic. She was beautiful, like a porcelain doll. Her lips were as red as cherries, shiny and daintily curved. She smirked at me. Oh, how I hated her in that moment. How I hated all of them—every last one of them, with their obsession with dresses and their ridiculous fashions. Couldn’t they find anything else to talk about? Were their lives so empty?
“It was an honor to attend the coronation, Konunger and Konungdis,” I said, bowing my head as best I could from my vantage point. “I was so grateful to be here.”
“Jarl Sölbói promises that you are to join us at court, Jarldis,” Eiflar-Konunger said.
My eyes darted up and met his. If Reister had made such a promise to the konunger, what chance had I of convincing him to let me go?
“He didn’t tell me he spoke to you of the matter,” I said after a pause.
Eiflar gave me an easy grin. Everything about him spoke of power and casual arrogance. “Ah yes, Jarldis. I often wondered, when I was jöfur, where Sölbói’s mysterious wife was. Some families leave court to live in their ancestral estates,” he said with an amused glance at his wife, “but it is rare for a husband to leave behind his wife as yours did. I told him I thought it quite unnatural.”
“Unnatural, majesty?” I murmured.
“Quite. Tyr dictates that a man should govern his wife in all things, does he not? And how can a man govern a wife he never sees?”
My head was spinning. I’d never heard that the god Tyr showed any interest in marriage at all. He was the god of war and battle—generals prayed to Tyr for heroic victory. I thought back to the coronation. The vigjas there had all been priests of Tyr. And the tower I saw when we drove to the palace—it had upward pointing arrows holding its panes of glass. Mother Tora called it the Temple. It must be dedicated to Tyr. When had Tyr risen so high among the gods? When had he become the chosen of the royal house? Had the other gods somehow fallen out of favor? I tried to remember when I’d learned in school. I thought Alfódr was the patron of Helésey. And who claimed Tyr made rules about things like marriage? Frigga presided over marriage. Was this the doing of the high vigja I’d seen at the ceremony? His face with his fiery gaze returned to me, and I suppressed a shudder.
I wondered, too, at the konunger’s choice of words. Mother Tora had also used the word “unnatural” today—to refer to the street urchins we’d passed. Was her statement somehow related to this new supremacy of Tyr’s?
I realized the konunger was looking at me as if awaiting a response. A wave of panic hit me. What had he asked?
“I’m sure your majesty’s wisdom must rule the day,” I declared.
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, his expression appreciative. “Just so,” he said. He turned to his wife, who was eyeing me with an air of mistrust. “Come, my lovely, we must greet the rest of our guests.” She inclined her head to him gracefully. He looked at me again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jarldis Sölbói. I hope we shall have many opportunities to speak again.”
I bowed my head, remaining in the pose until I was sure they were gone.
“Well, he certainly seems to have been pleased enough,” said the old jarldis on the settee to her friend.
I didn’t know whether or not I hoped that she was right. I spotted my drink on the floor just under where I’d sat on the settee. I didn’t remember putting it there. I let my legs go weak under me and plopped down on the settee, grabbing the drink and finishing it at once.
The burning liquid warmed and calmed me. After a moment I felt I could stand again. I watched the royal couple move away through the crowd, stopping to speak to people as they went. My mind buzzed with fragments of thoughts. Reister promised Eiflar I would come to live at court. Tyr had supplanted Alfódr as high god of Helésey. Unnatural. What did they mean by unnatural? The word frightened me. I had to escape this place. Vaenn’s eyes on me. There was madness here.
I rose from my seat and hurried down to the main floor. I wanted to find Mother Tora or Reister—I wanted to leave the ball. Yet I knew neither of them would have any sympathy. Reister’s warning about disappearing spurred me on, however. If I could tell him or his mother that I was leaving, then he couldn’t claim I’d disappeared. I wouldn’t let them make me stay.
A robot waiter passed and I stopped him, taking a drink. I sipped it as I searched the crowd for either Mother Tora or my husband. I should not have left the vantage point of platform. I headed back for i
t.
As I stood up top of it, looking out over the ballroom, it seemed to me that the crowd had thinned. And yet I could catch no glimpse of Mother Tora or Reister.
I finished my glass.
I felt my resolve harden. I would spend no more time in this place—why should I, when so many had already left? Where Reister and his mother were, I did not know, but they could find me easily enough, for they knew I was unfamiliar with the palace and would go back to our apartments.
I set my jaw. No more would I let my anxiety weaken me. I would sleep as much as I could, and then tomorrow tell Reister that Bersi and I were returning home. I had learned long ago to run the estate and make the decisions—I was the authority there. Somehow with all the strangeness and Reister’s anger I had allowed myself to be cowed. I was not a child to be ordered here and there. Reister got what he wanted when I came to the coronation. To expect more was unreasonable. Enough was enough. We would go home as soon as possible.
A sense of relief at this decision made the muscles of my shoulders loosen, and I realized I had been holding them tense for hours.
Very well then, I thought. Now I just have to find my way back to our apartments.
My heartbeat fluttered at the prospect, but I breathed in deeply and started across the ballroom. I would find my way. It was just a matter of trying.
~~~
“Reister, you can’t expect everything to fall into place in a matter of hours.”
It was Mother Tora’s voice. I hesitated outside the door of our apartments, which I had at last located after several false turns and trips down unfamiliar corridors.
“She’s hopeless, Mother. She even put the boy in her bed!”
The City Darkens (Raud Grima Book 1) Page 4
