Still on my hands and knees, I backed away from him as much as I dared. “I’ll never do what you want, Reister. You should just let me go. Let me have Bersi back, and we’ll both leave. You can find a new bride. Someone easy to—to rule. You’ll have a new heir. You can disinherit Bersi. It will be like we never existed.”
He gave a dry laugh and turned away from me.
I crouched and slowly rose to my feet.
“You speak as if you’ll never see Bersimund again,” he said in a reasonable tone. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Pardon me?”
He turned, his movements looser than before. He seemed more relaxed. He smiled at me, but his eyes were still shark-like.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Oh, Myadar, do you think I am some monster? That I would take your son from you forever?”
I eyed him but made no response.
“Come now, my dear. You have such a low opinion of me.”
Who was this new, affable Reister? I didn’t know him.
“I apologize. I know I’ve been very tense. And rude, no doubt. No wonder you think the worst of me. The death of Nes-Konunger—the Conversion—it’s all been a difficult adjustment, you see.” He walked to a mirror, where he straightened his cravat. “We’ll put all this conflict behind us, shall we?”
I watched him.
He turned back to me. “There’s nothing to worry about, Myadar. I have simply arranged for Bersimund’s schooling. It’s not as though he’s been abducted. You can see him again soon.”
“Soon?” I echoed.
He eyed me, wearing a fake smile. “Why, of course. How about at the end of this week? I’ll contact the school and arrange it. Would you like that?”
I held myself very still. If I moved the wrong way, I might shatter this dream. “Of course. Of course I would.”
“Very well, then, consider it done.” He started for the door. I watched him. He reached for the handle, and then stopped. “On one condition.”
I tilted my head to the side to show I was listening.
“You must attend Jarldis Vaenn’s soirée. And you must make me proud,” he said in what would pass for a warm tone if I didn’t know him better. “You must show me you can be a good wife. An asset to me. Yes?”
“Attend Jarldis Vaenn’s soirée?” I said. “And if I manage to make you proud, you’ll send for Bersi?”
He gave me a nod.
I sucked on my lips and nodded back. “Very well then. When do I meet with the dressmaker?”
~~~
“Am I to go to Jarldis Vaenn’s apartments? Is it a dinner?” I asked Mother Tora as she stood beside me, evaluating my attire. I wore a loose dress that hung only to just under my knees. It was a combination of dark rose velvet and a lighter rose satin, with embroidery along the edges of the velvet panels, but the length made me feel like I was in my sleeping gown all over again. Would I ever become accustomed to this fashion?
“Pearls… or perhaps the crystal necklace,” she muttered, turning to the jewelry box that lay open on the bed. “There’s that pink quartz necklace, I suppose.” She looked up at me and caught my eyes in the mirror. “Jarldis Vaenn and the rest of her guests will arrive here in two hours or so, I expect. I heard you’ll be attending an opera. You shall all walk out of the palace together, and the jarldis will have arranged for cars.”
“I see,” I said, although I did not. I had never attended an opera. There had been a theater in my family’s town in Asterlund, and I had seen plays, but never an opera. I supposed there were more terrible ways to spend an evening, but with my mind worrying over Bersi, I didn’t know whether I would be able to keep my attention on the show.
I would have to find a way. I held my own gaze in the mirror. I had to be the perfect wife to Reister. I would stay by his side, on his arm, if he wished it. I would not complain if he abandoned me. I would show no fatigue despite not having slept since the boat ride. I would laugh if he told a joke. I would find every opportunity to compliment him in the hearing of others. He would be proud, as he had requested.
And when Bersi arrived for his visit this weekend, I would find the first opportunity and carry him away. I didn’t know yet how I would finance our escape, or even how I would manage to leave the palace unnoticed. But those were troubles I would deal with tomorrow. The weekend was three days away. By then, I would have a plan.
Mother Tora settled on the rose quartz beads, dropping them over my head. She stopped to cast a critical eye on my bare shoulders and arms. “I do wish the dress had sleeves,” she said. “Why on earth did you ruin your arms with such musculature?”
I made no response.
She seemed not to have expected one and instead began fussing with my hair. Its honey shade looked darker next to the rose color of the necklace.
“It�s useless,” she said at last. “We really must cut it.”
My hand flew to my head. “Cut it?” I gasped.
“Myadar, you’ve seen for yourself that only the elderly ladies wear their hair long anymore. Young, attractive women such as yourself have all had it cut.”
I lowered my hand slowly. I pressed it against my mouth for a moment, holding back a sob. Don’t be silly, I told myself. It’s just hair. It will grow back. Reister will be happy if you look fashionable.
“Very well,” I managed.
“Sveinn, summon Harfrida,” Mother Tora said to the robot, who stood waiting by the door for such commands. He immediately exited.
~~~
Just as Mother Tora predicted, Jarldis Vaenn arrived about two hours later with some of her guests. I stood in my bedroom, staring at my reflection, trying to recognize myself. I could not. The woman looking back at me had dark makeup around her eyes, dusky rose lips, short, wavy hair, albeit the same honey hue as ever, and a loose dress that showed off her legs but didn’t have a waist. The hair stylist, Harfrida, had fixed a decorative band around my head that had a spray of gray and tea-brown feathers with black and white markings on one side. I touched a feather with the tip of one finger. I could hardly believe it was real. I could hardly believe anything I saw in the mirror was real—much less that it was me. Who was this woman? What happened to Myadar, the mistress of Söllund, who often wore trousers and had straw in her hair from working in the barn? Or muddy knees from the garden, or ruddy cheeks from the sun? This woman was so pale. How could she be me?
“Myadar,” Mother Tora said through the door. “They’re waiting!”
“I’ll be there directly,” I said, still looking at myself. I would set aside this bewilderment. I would smile as I joined Jarldis Vaenn and her guests. I would rest my hand on Reister’s arm, and follow his lead throughout the rest of the night. With any luck at all, we would be home in a few hours, and I could collapse in my bed and sleep. I felt like my legs were weighted with iron, but I could not let that show.
I forced the smile. It was ghastly. I made my face relax a bit. There. Not too excessive. A pleasant smile.
I exited my room and walked through the corridor to the parlor, where Mother Tora sat entertaining Jarldis Vaenn, Jarls Krigr and Spraki, and a jarl and jarldis I had not met—or at least, I didn’t remember meeting. There had been so many people at the coronation. Reister was nowhere to be seen. I turned my pleasant smile on Jarldis Vaenn.
“Thank you ever so much for your kind invitation. It was so thoughtful of you to include me in your soirée.”
Jarldis Vaenn raised an eyebrow and let her eyes travel from my brown, low-heeled shoes, over my rose dress, to my spray of gray and tea-colored feathers. “The pleasure is all mine,” she said.
My skin flushed hot under her gaze and I lost the sense of purpose I’d exited my room with.
I glanced at Mother Tora. “Where is Reister? We mustn’t keep everyone waiting.”
Mother Tora raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, sweet mercy,” she said.
I blinked and then searched the faces of the oth
ers. Krigr and Spraki looked amused and Vaenn might have been a cat contemplating a mouse, the way she gazed at me. The two I didn’t know just looked bored.
“Dear Myadar,” Vaenn said, standing and crossing to me, “—you don’t mind if I call you Myadar? And so you must call me Finnarún.” She slipped her arm through mine. “We shall all call each other by our first names tonight, don’t you all agree?” She cast a glance around at the others.
“Yes, everyone must call me Liut,” said Krigr.
“Taf,” Spraki said, nodding at the others.
“And this is Dunkar,” Vaenn said, indicating the jarl, and then moving to the jarldis, she added, “and Róta.” They each gave me a nod.
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” I said. I looked back at Mother Tora. “I’m sure Reister will find using given names a charming idea, but—”
Vaenn patted the arm she held—well, it was more of a stroke than a pat. It sent a shiver through me. “Dear Myadar,” she said again. “I meant to say it before. Reister isn’t coming. He wasn’t invited.”
~~~
As we made our way through the palace, stopping here and there to collect more guests, I tried to make sense of the situation. How was I supposed to be a good wife to Reister if he wasn’t even here? The things I’d always thought made for good wives Reister had hardly ever shown any interest in. Now, in this situation, he seemed to want something very specific, but I didn’t understand what it was. How was I to “make him proud” or “prove myself to be an asset to him”? This soirée was some sort of test, but I didn’t know how to pass it. Reister knew I was lost at court. I needed him there to indicate what he wanted me to do. If not that, to at least give me some guidance as to how to behave. I had no training for this. I didn’t know what was expected. And on top of it all, I was afraid to offend someone about the new primacy of Tyr. I hadn’t had an opportunity to read the book yet. What if we encountered the konunger at the opera? Now, when it was more important than it had ever been that I not embarrass Reister, he had abandoned me to a situation where I was bound to make a false step.
Was that his game? Had he set me up to fail on purpose? But it would only reflect badly on him. No, I doubted Reister wanted me to commit some social mistake—it would be the talk of the court, if their reaction to my dress at the coronation was any indication. Reister would hate that. I didn’t believe he wanted me to fail. But didn’t he realize that I had no idea how to succeed?
Three long black cars awaited our party, which had grown in number to a dozen. Four went in each car, with Finnarún Vaenn leading me firmly into hers. Liut Krigr and Taf Spraki joined us.
As we settled into the seats, Finnarún and I facing the men, I studied Liut and Taf. Taf looked like all the other men I’d encountered since arriving in the capital. Hair of no discernible shade or texture because it was slicked straight back, making it look wet and shiny. His eyes were pale blue, like so many others—darker eyes like the konungdis’s coffee brown and even the light honey of Liut’s were rare in Ódalnord. Taf wore a black suit; the coat had long tails like a swallow. His shirt was pure white, the collar starched, with a pale yellow cravat. I might never pick him out from a crowd—at least not a Heléseyan crowd.
Liut was different. He too slicked back his hair, but it refused to cooperate. Its tendency to curl showed in waves, and two or three tendrils escaped and brushed the sides of his face. It surprised me how such a detail endeared him to me. I didn’t know him any better than Taf, but I felt like I would like to know him—I wouldn’t mind being seated next to him at a dinner, or taking a walk with him in Söllund’s garden. He dressed a little differently, as well—his suit was black and his coat had tails, just like Taf’s, but instead of a cravat he wore a patterned maroon and rose silk scarf. I thought perhaps we matched, and the idea pleased me. I felt embarrassed to be going out on the town in Helésey without Reister. Perhaps people would assume I was Liut’s wife, instead.
Finnarún wore a yellow dress and could easily be matched with Taf, I noted. I liked the symmetry in this. I realized I didn’t know whether any of my companions had spouses. I didn’t dare ask. For all I knew it would be terribly rude or thoughtless. I had to make a good impression tonight. How Reister would know how I’d behaved, I couldn’t guess. Did he have spies? Would he interrogate one of my companions? It didn’t matter. I must behave as though he was there, watching me.
“Ah, look at them,” Finnarún said, leaning toward the window on her side. “So handsome in their uniforms.”
I followed her gaze. We drove by a column of soldiers marching down the other side of the grand avenue we took. They all wore black, or perhaps some other dark color—it was hard to tell for night had fallen and the street lights cast a strange blue glow over everything. “Where are they going?” I asked.
“That’ll be the first wave, I expect,” Taf said, looking pleased with his pronouncement. He leaned back and produced two cigars from an inside pocket. He offered one to Liut, who shook his head.
“The first wave…?” I echoed, wondering if I was treading into a dangerous topic.
“Of the konunger’s plan,” Liut said absently as he, too, watched the soldiers. Afraid to push the topic further, I stared out of the window, trying to see more details in the soldier’s uniforms. Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of upward pointing arrows. This had to do with Tyr. Was the konunger sending out soldiers to the provinces? To spread the Conversion? I felt in my heart that this was so. How long before the soldiers reached Asterlund? How long before even that haven was conquered? My throat tightened. Surely they wouldn’t travel so far. Surely the “first wave” would move on provinces closest to the capital.
We left the soldiers behind, although my mind stayed with them as the car moved through the city. Snow began to fall in heavy, thick flakes. Finnarún turned and gave me her cat-playing-with-a-mouse smile. She slipped her arm through mine again and slid over the seat, closing the gap between us.
“You look lovely tonight, Myadar,” she said. Then she pouted. “But I thought you were going to let me see to your hair.”
“Mother—uh, my mother in law—insisted,” I stammered.
“Well, it looks nice enough,” Finnarún conceded. She patted her own blonde locks with her free hand. “I suppose we can always play with yours later. See if we can train it in corkscrew curls, maybe.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. If I had anything to do with it, this would be the last time I spent with Finnarún Vaenn, and I wouldn’t have to worry about the court fashions ever again. I snuck a glimpse of her face, although I found it hard to meet her eyes. She was beautiful. Her lips were painted red and when she pouted, her mouth mesmerized me. The sensation of her fingers on my arm made the skin where they touched feel hot enough to burn. These feelings discomfited me. A shiver passed through my body as I thought of the way she touched me. I wanted to pull away from her, but there was no room in the car. I glanced at her again and she caught my eye. She was smiling her cat grin, like she knew the effect she had on me. It made my breath catch.
I’d never felt this way about a woman. I’d barely felt it for a man, for that matter—some long forgotten beau in Asterlund… I remembered a red-haired boy, but his name… it was gone. I looked at Taf and Liut. I would never feel anything for Taf. But Liut… I already liked him, I had to admit. But what was the good in that, anyway? All of these feelings, this strangeness—they would only get in the way, tonight. Tonight I had one task, and that was to comport myself like a jarldis at court. It would not be so easy, but if I concentrated, I would avoid the pitfalls of my ignorance and carry it off, and Reister would bring Bersi for a visit, and I would find a way to escape Helésey with him and start a new life. Perhaps in Asterlund. Perhaps farther than that, if the Conversion really was spreading. We’d go to Asterlund first—my family would hide us, and give us money. With enough money we could travel beyond the coast of Ódalnord in the south. Across the sea. I knew almost nothing about the
lands there, other than bits and pieces I remembered from my schooldays. I never anticipated that I would need to know anything about them—
Finnarún leaned against me, putting her hand on my knee, which I belatedly realized was free of my skirt. The velvet and satin bunched and rode upwards—I jerked and pressed my hands against the fabric, moving it down again.
Finnarún laughed in my ear. “We’re here now, dear Myadar.”
I looked around, my heart pounding, my face flushed. Taf and Liut were scooting out of the car, oblivious, it seemed, to my embarrassment.
“There, now, darling,” Finnarún whispered. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
I cast her a desperate look. What was she doing? Was her plan to seduce me tonight? I didn’t even know that women could do that—I had never heard of a woman seducing another woman. I couldn’t afford to let anything of the sort happen. What if Reister heard something about it? I didn’t think he would be very forgiving.
Finnarún seemed amused by my anxiety. She exited the car and I followed, trying to keep some control over the hem of my dress as I stood while the robot held the sedan’s door. Finnarún saw my efforts and gave another little laugh, but then turned away and sauntered over to some other guest. She looped her arm through his and proceeded to whisper in his ear as the whole group ascended the wide marble stairs to the opera house. I worried for a moment she was whispering about me, but she didn’t look my way, and I soon decided I could do nothing to stop her anyhow. I just had to persevere with my goal for the night. With luck she was done playing with me.
I turned to follow the others and took in the sight of the opera house.
It was a huge half-orb atop stacked rings, rather similar to the palace in that it was stepped, but circular instead of pyramidal. Floodlights rotated and whirled, sending beams into the night sky and across the stairs and the surrounding buildings. The sides of the opera house walls were covered in geometric designs inlaid with semi-precious stones in large panels and veins of metal. It was hard to identify their colors in the moving lights.
The City Darkens (Raud Grima Book 1) Page 7
