by R. J. Price
“She is hiding something. Until I find out what that is, no one—and I mean no one—will be touching her,” Av said. “Watch Em, something's off with her, and frankly with Jer as well. Watch that.”
“You aren't planning on bedding her?”
“Sometimes ones like me have to sacrifice their own freedom, in order to maintain the laws,” Av said carefully, stepping onto his porch, “Do you see anyone else around here who could take Aren and survive?”
“I barely know the woman,” Perlon said. “Frankly I'm surprised Em allows her to stay at the palace. Is she really a ward of the throne?”
“No, Aren has been eighteen for a few months now,” Av said. “While Aren was a ward, Em made her guardian of Mar. Em has yet to find fault in Aren's treatment of her daughter, thus she has kept the position.”
Perlon frowned at Av. “But...”
“But?” Av asked.
“Never mind.” Perlon shook his head. “So, which of you is standing as my warrior?”
Chapter Fifteen
The night of the engagement ball Aren found herself wiping at her dress, wondering if it might be time for it to be replaced. Still the only dress Aren owned, it had lasted her longer than she had expected. Other ladies had gone through several dresses in the same time Aren had worn her court dress. A fashion had come and gone in the time Aren had been at court, changing enough that Aren's mating dress was, surprisingly, in fashion.
That dress, the one her sister sent her, was still in storage, awaiting the day when Aren either burned it, or wore it in her mating ceremony.
Mar made the rounds through the ball, greeting any lord or lady whose name she knew. Others introduced themselves to Mar and wished her a happy mating. The lords meant it, smiled kindly upon her, but the ladies said it in a snide tone, as if they expected failure.
Aren kept a close eye on those coming in the doors, waiting for Av. The man appeared to be something of a mystery. After six months, he still did not answer her distantly, the way he did the other ladies. He watched her, but did not seem to do so critically. Av simply acknowledged that Aren existed. In turn, Aren found herself keenly interested in what he did and whom he spoke to.
All the while chiding herself for creating a situation where she may be found out.
After Mar was mated, Aren would take a paper credit of three thousand to Lord Worl, who was still selling land and a cottage nearby. The man simply had no luck selling the plot of land and for three thousand Aren could purchase without going through the steward, allowing Lord Worl to sell his land, and Aren to buy for a very good price. She would settle in the cottage. Then maybe she could simply be—simply relax her control for a while, and see what came of it. The land was far enough away from the palace that no one living there would notice. Perhaps she could even invite Av for a visit.
Shivering, Aren came back to herself and found Av watching her. She had inadvertently made eye contact while lost in thought. The lord smiled just slightly, tilted his head, and moved off through the growing crowd.
“Aren,” Mar said quietly to her.
“Hm?” Aren turned her full attention to Mar.
Mar gave her a pointed look, one that accused her of doing something foolish. Aren lowered her head, knowing full well what Mar meant. There had been many such warnings over the last six months, all of them revolving around Av. Not long after coming together, Mar had admitted that a relationship was a bad thing, but lusting was even worse. Aren might deny the truth with words, but every other part of her screamed what she wanted.
Thankfully, Av seemed blind to Aren's moods. Like the court, Av blamed each of Aren's moods on Mar, allowing Aren to hide in plain sight.
“Lord Jer is coming,” Mar said, turning to her mother's mate as the crowd parted for him.
By Jer's side was Lord Perlon, dressed in his best, trying to look innocent and oblivious all at once. The man was a terrible liar, yet Mar suspected nothing. She believed Perlon to simply be a friend of Jer and Av.
“Lady Mar,” Jer said, smiling at her, bowing his head just slightly.
The man was trying too hard to be polite to Mar, to win her affection.
“Lord Jer,” Mar murmured, curtseying to Jer.
Aren scanned the crowd, catching sight of Lady Em across the dance floor. As mother to Mar, Lady Em should have been the one to introduce Mar to her intended. Instead the woman was standing, back straight, glaring at Mar as she might have a rival. Lady Em's eyes travelled from Mar to Aren. For a moment their eyes locked and cold terror flooded Aren's senses. Then it was gone, and the queen was turning to answer a question from the steward.
Never had such a terror overcome Aren before. Such a strong emotion and her heart refused to calm, threatening to burst from her chest. She had to get away, had to escape.
“Lady Aren,” Jer said, drawing her attention, “are you feeling unwell? You paled suddenly.”
Aren waved a hand in front of her face, giving her time to construct an answer that Jer wouldn't have the courage to question. “Woman problems. I think I have a handle on it and suddenly I feel faint. I will be fine.”
“If you insist,” Jer said, motioning to Perlon. “This is Lord Perlon.”
“How do you do,” Perlon said, bowing stiffly to Mar. “How is the training coming? Lord Av has been very insistent that I not train at the same time as you. I think he's afraid we might run off and elope, as if my word and honour mean nothing.”
Mar smiled at Perlon. “My training is going well, and I hardly blame Lord Av for such a thing. Young women at court are taken to random fancies of that sort, and with how you were romancing me there in the field, can you blame him?”
“Hardly. I would run off with you in a moment if I didn't have two warriors with blades in my back.” Perlon grinned widely, then the grin faltered. “Wait, Jer, did—did you just say that this is Lady Mar?” The man was putting on a good act, a very good act, for someone so bad at lying.
Jer almost looked amused. “My brother neglected to mention the two of you had met.”
“I didn't realize this was my intended,” Perlon insisted, holding his hands up in surrender, “though”—the lord dropped his hands—“that doesn't explain why Av was afraid we might run off and elope.”
“Because, if Em doesn't get her mating ceremony she will paint the walls with blood,” Jer said. “And most likely it would be yours.”
“Fair enough,” Perlon muttered.
“But...” It was Mar's turn to look faint. “I'm to... He's the one, with whom...”
“My lady,” Perlon bowed. “When I said that I hoped my mate was even half the woman you are, I had no idea the spirits would grant my wish. Would you do me the honour of dancing?”
Mar took the offered hand, mouth agape in surprise as Perlon led her to the dance floor. The dancers parted for the pair, aware that the engagement ball was being held for them.
“Lady Aren,” Jer murmured.
Aren turned towards him.
“Don't look at me, look to them,” Jer said, his mouth barely moving.
She did as she was bid, watching those on the floor.
“My mate wants you dead. Do you know why?”
The dreaded fear returned. Aren began scanning the crowd for Av, wondering where the lord had gone. If the queen wanted her dead nothing but the lord and master that was Av could stop her.
“You do know why, don't you?” Jer said with a sigh. “Oh, Aren. She will destroy anyone capable of using magic. Surely you knew that. You should have told me or my brother. We could have protected you.”
“And now?” Aren asked, straightening, shoulders squaring.
“If you are simply capable in the ways of magic, I may be able to create a distraction, give you time to escape. But if anyone were to discover, say, that you were a queen in hiding...” Jer trailed off.
Aren took in a long breath. “I simply want to see Mar mated, collect my ten thousand, and buy a piece of property on a lake a few hours west o
f here. I do not want to draw attention, I do not want to sap at the throne, or steal from your mate's precarious collection. I wish to live, and be left to live.”
“Fair enough. The deed is to be done after Mar is mated and nothing but your absence will stop the command,” Jer said.
“I haven't the coin to leave and no man here would be willing to mate me on the spot to save me,” Aren responded. “Most don't even recall I exist.”
There? No, Aren thought she had spotted Av but instead it was Lord Worl. The man glanced up at Aren as she looked across the dance floor at him. He nodded slightly and turned back to his conversation. Aren continued looking for Av amongst the crowd.
“I have five thousand to spare. It is yours if you make haste. Buy the land if you so please but get off palace grounds. My father lives half a day's walk to the south. Go there, I will send the papers of credit and he will see to your safety. If my mate does go there, my father will put a blade between her ribs.”
“How do you know for certain?”
“My father trained my brother and me, that is his rank. A trainer has nothing, if he hasn't the honour of his word.”
Aren spotted the lord again. “Then I must see about buying a piece of land. If I buy his land and send him to you, will you pay him?”
“I will negotiate the sale, tell him as much,” Jer said. “This is the least I can do for you, Lady Aren, for protecting Mar and drawing her out of her shadows.”
She nodded once, then said. “What will Mar be told?”
“Perlon is a friend of mine, I will tell him the truth, and he will tell Mar. But no doubt someone else will reach Mar's ear and tell a tale of stolen goods and breaches of honour.”
“We are friends, she would not believe such a thing.”
“These ones, who would find her ear, have a way with magic, a way of making their lies seem more true than they could be,” Jer said. After a pause he continued. “Whether you buy the land or not, head to my father's after. It's impossible to miss, take the road south and let your feet lead you. You will find yourself on a road by a blue rock. Go down a beaten path, he will likely meet you halfway. Tell him that axe of his is too dull to do more than break bone, and he'll know I sent you.”
“Should you speak, so, to your father?”
“If his foolishness makes his life more difficult, and puts his health in danger, I should, yes.”
Aren spotted the lord, a good deal closer this time. “I need to go before I lose sight of him again.” Without waiting for an answer she walked off, toward the Lord Worl.
He spotted her before she reached him and walked to her, smiling. “Lady Aren.”
“Lord Worl,” Aren said, smiling to him. “Have you sold your plot of land?”
“No.” He shook his head, trying to look sad, even though he was quite pleased. “I have had several come out and look, but they decline to purchase.”
“You do not seem upset by this,” Aren responded.
“I am and am not,” Lord Worl said smoothly. “For truth be told I am selling the land because I have fallen on hard times. It contains a few graves from my ancestors but unfortunately I cannot keep the land if I wish to keep the family estate, which means a good deal more to my bloodline than a plot of land with a few graves.”
“Graves?” Aren asked. “How quaint.”
“My bloodline is cremated, as is tradition, and have cremated for a good many years. These were graves of babes, buried so their mothers might have a place to mourn,” Lord Worl said. “Would that bother you?”
“No, I find the notion honourable,” Aren said. “A woman must have a place to mourn what she brought to the world and could not nurture and raise. Is there anything else I should know about the land?”
Hesitation, then, “No. It is down a small road that is rarely travelled, but on a lake. Just beyond it, if you take the main road farther down, there is a small village and everything a commoner could need is there. Would you like to see it?”
“As soon as possible,” Aren said. “Tonight even?”
Lord Worl smiled. “Of course, I can go collect horses now. Come to the stables when you are ready, we will depart immediately.”
He bowed to her and left.
Chapter Sixteen
Av walked into the ball and found Aren watching the door. A distant look on her face, the lady shuddered as she came to, her eyes focusing on Av's chest. He smiled in response, bowed his head just slightly before he made his way through the crowd.
When Av was certain Aren was no longer watching him, he doubled back around, and glanced through the crowd. In a room nearly full of people, Aren was standing alone, no one near enough to touch her. She watched as Jer introduced Perlon and Mar, as the two began speaking. Yet Aren seemed apart from everyone else, her back straight, shoulders squared. She seemed to be waiting for something that did not happen.
Av watched Aren scan the crowd and stiffen. The look on her face was one of challenge, her hands clenched together in front of her. He looked, had to stand on tiptoe to see, what Aren was glaring at. Em. Aren was challenging Em, who glowered back at her with all the hatred that Em could muster. The anger caused the lords and ladies around Em to drift away.
None of those who moved would be able to say what had caused them to shift away. Only those on the receiving end of the anger would have understood, would have been able to describe the feeling.
Across the dance floor, Aren went a grey, then white. She wavered, and almost disappeared, as if there were a hole in Av's vision. After watching Aren for six months, Av was ecstatic to see something, finally, that was definitive proof even if he had no idea what he was witnessing.
Coastal ladies might be able to keep to themselves, but at no point had any of them vanished before the eyes of a ranked member of the court. Vanishing tricks typically required magic, though it was possible that Mar gave Aren the necessary component that Aren could not provide for herself. The two had bonded enough to share Mar's magic between the two of them, allowing Aren to do whatever a queen could, as long as Mar was close at hand.
Deciding to control the situation, Av went looking for Em. With her instability, and that little show of a challenge, Av had to make certain Em wasn't about to do anything stupid.
Av found Em, who was speaking with the steward.
“Lady Earlen's family has not heard from her in some weeks, and I can find no one at court who has seen the young woman,” the steward said quickly.
“Perhaps she ran off to elope, it is the fashion, after all,” Em responded sternly, madness in her voice.
“I,”—Av inserted himself into the conversation—“will deal with this problem. Lady Em, why don't you enjoy the ball?”
Em glowered at him. “You think to undermine me?”
“I think this is your daughter's engagement ball, that you deserve to enjoy it, not answer missives from a lower family,” Av said, hoping his voice sounded as steady as he thought.
“You are correct.” Em almost wilted, weary, and more like her old self. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Av watched the queen walk away and made absolutely certain she was gone before he spun on the steward. “Never approach her again. If you have a problem, you take it to Jer, can't you see it in her eyes?”
“There is a problem,” the steward said to Av. “Do you realize that ten young women over the past year have vanished without a trace? Each one is logged in as eloping, and yet the lords they are said to have eloped make no sense.”
“How do these lords make no sense?” Av asked.
“Well, for starters they are said to be from lands not allied with the palace,” the steward said. “Then there's the fact that these lands need to pay the palace for all mating, or elopements, and no payments have ever been received.”
“It would not be the first time the outlaying lands took advantage of the palace's good graces,” Av said.
The steward drew in a breath. “I realize that, that was why I wrote several of
the lords to ask as to the health of their young mates. I've received three letters back thus far. Two inform me that the lord has not been mated. The third said that the lord died two years ago, therefore how could he be registered as having eloped with a young woman that the land had never heard of?”
“This is not a queen's problem.”
“It is a queen's problem. Wards under the throne—still wards, all of them—have vanished. Ten young women to ten lower houses who hardly have the coin to send their daughters, let alone to ask more than once about why the wards have not returned to them. Lady Earlen was training under you. When was the last time you saw her?”
Av had to struggle to recall. “Six, no, five months ago. She stopped coming to training shortly after you came to court. I paired her with a young lord to cheer her up, after the other ladies forgot who she was. A lord came to see me later, told me that Lady Earlen had eloped.”
“There was no elopement registered for Lady Earlen,” the steward said. “Who told you that?”
“I cannot for the life of me recall,” Av looked to Jer as his brother approached them. “Did you know there are ladies unaccounted for?”
“What do you mean?” Jer asked.
“Ten are missing,” the steward said. “With at least one being suspicious. Lord Av was told Lady Earlen eloped, but my records say nothing of the sort.”
Jer frowned. “Lady Earlen came to see me five months ago. She announced her intention to mate a minor lord who wanted to move near court. Em agreed to the mating, said it felt right, and strongly encouraged the couple to move nearby, said their children would need the palace. I referred them to someone selling a plot of land.”
“Who was it?”
“I cannot recall,” Jer said with a shrug. “I received a letter from Lady Earlen thanking me for the information, and that they had purchased the land. The papers should be among the treasury, since she pulled on coin she earned as Em's handmaid.”
“Credit is easier to follow than elopement, I can look into that,” the steward said, moving away quickly.
