The Scholar's Heart (Chronicles of Tournai Book 3)

by Antonia Aquilante

  Perhaps Etan felt awkward after what they did together, especially with Amory there. Etan didn’t have to feel awkward, if that was why he stayed away. What they did was just a bit of fun, nothing to be upset over, something hopefully to be repeated since it was so enjoyable. And Tristan would happily tell Etan so if he had the chance. But he didn’t have that chance.

  The only time Etan got close was so Julien could see Bria. It was rather adorable how intrigued the little prince was with the baby, and Tristan looked up to share his amusement at the sight to find Etan with the same emotions on his face. They had shared something then, Tristan was sure of it. Their friendship was still alive.

  But then Etan disappeared again.

  Another week had gone by with nothing but a brief response to the one note Tristan sent. Etan had to be avoiding him even if Tristan couldn’t quite figure out why, but he would see Etan tonight and he would find out. Etan had to attend his own birthday party. Tristan would talk to him there, and, if he was lucky, tempt Etan into a birthday interlude in a secluded corner of the palace.

  But first Tristan was to have lunch with his mother and Selene. He and Maxen rode to Mother’s house from the offices together. The family house was larger than the one he inhabited now and situated just outside the quarter that held the homes of the wealthier nobility, whereas Tristan’s house was farther from the noble houses and the palace but still in an excellent quarter of the city.

  “She’ll probably ask you when you’re moving back into the house,” Maxen said as they turned into the open gates.

  “It won’t be the first time.” Mother urged him with some regularity to move back into the family home, trying to persuade him by having his father’s bedchamber, the largest in the house, redone for him, but the thought of moving back into his old bedchamber was not what kept him away.

  “She’s never understood why you left in the first place.”

  No, Tristan supposed she never had. When she married his father, they’d lived in this same house with his parents. But for Tristan to marry the way his father wanted him to—and he refused to think now about how maybe he hadn’t had to—he couldn’t conduct his marriage under his parents’ eyes. With Dariela gone, Mother expected him to move back in, whether or not he married again, he assumed. But he liked where he was because of the freedom he had living in his own household, not his mother’s. Whatever she said about him being head of the family now, she would always run her household.

  “Do you?” he asked Maxen as they dismounted and handed the reins of their horses to stable hands.

  Maxen shot him an eloquent look and preceded him into the house. They found Mother and Selene in the formal parlor, an odd choice for a family lunch, with Adora, one of Amory’s younger sisters. Selene was a bit younger than Adora, but they’d been friends for years. He’d always like Adora as well—he liked all of Amory’s siblings, except his asinine older brother, Alban. Adora had always been sweet, a little shy, a little quiet. He’d made a mission of drawing her out of her shell and into their games when they were all children.

  He greeted her now as if she were another sister. After he greeted Mother and Selene as well, he turned back to Adora. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”

  “Your mother and Selene invited me a few days ago. I thought it would be nice, since I hadn’t seen any of you in quite a while,” Adora said in a quiet voice. “Thank you again for inviting me.”

  Mother smiled at her and Tristan, a hint of something in her eyes that put him immediately on guard even as his stomach sank. “Not at all. You and my Selene are such good friends, and I know how you and Tristan always liked each other. I thought it would be lovely for you to see each other.”

  Tristan glanced at Maxen and saw the same dawning realization in his eyes. Lunch suddenly looked to be far less pleasant.

  “Well, now that you’re here, let’s go in,” Mother said and led the way into the dining room. It had also been set more formally than necessary for a casual family lunch, but Tristan could guess why now, and his guess was only confirmed when she made certain that Adora sat beside him.

  Adora turned confused brown eyes on Selene and him in turn, but Selene just smiled, a glint of pleasure in her eyes. Of course she would be pleased. She probably loved the idea of Tristan marrying Adora and making them sisters. He flashed her a reproving glare when Adora wasn’t looking. He didn’t want Adora upset—she had no part in this, that he would stake money on—but Selene had to temper her demeanor and her expectations, for Adora if not for him.

  “I thought you would bring the baby with you,” Mother said as they were served the first course. He hadn’t expected lunch would be a long, formal meal, but he could see just from the first course that his mother had other ideas. He and Maxen were also due back at the offices this afternoon. Tristan had work to do before he could leave for the palace later. The delay caused by the prolonged meal would set him back. He shared a look with Maxen.

  “Maxen and I came straight from the office today, Mother, and we have to go straight back.”

  “You could have instructed her nursemaid to bring her here,” she pressed.

  “You visited Bria yesterday.”

  “Yes, but I can never see her enough, and I don’t believe Adora has seen the baby at all.” Mother turned her gaze on Adora in a pointed manner that it was obvious Adora didn’t understand.

  “Oh, no I haven’t met her, but Adeline and Amory tell me she’s beautiful, Tristan,” Adora said with a slight stutter.

  His thanks were drowned out by his mother’s voice, directed somewhere between him and Adora. “Quite beautiful and such a good baby. No trouble at all. I’m sure Adora will fall in love with her as soon as she sees her.”

  “Mother.” Tristan tried to put as much warning into his tone as he could without being obvious to Adora.

  “Well, she will of course.” Mother turned to Adora with a conspiratorial smile. “You will. She’s beautiful. Just the type of baby every woman wants for her own. Dear Tristan is doing his best with her on his own, but men don’t know about babies, not like women do. He needs—”

  “Mother.” He snapped it out and brought a hand down on the table. Everyone jumped, including Adora, for which he was sorry. But it was the look on Adora’s face that had forced him to intervene. “Enough.”

  Mother laughed lightly. “Tristan, I don’t know what you mean. I was just—”

  “Stop. Now.” He stared at his mother for a long moment after she fell silent. “Let’s eat our lunch.”

  They finished the remaining courses of the long lunch in almost complete silence after Tristan’s outburst, making the long meal feel even longer. He, for one, was relieved when it was over, but his mother looked less than pleased.

  “I’m sorry to have lunch and leave, Mother, but I need to go back to the office. There’s work that needs to be done this afternoon,” Tristan said. Maxen nodded, adding his agreement.

  “Oh, but you can’t leave yet,” Mother said. “Adora is visiting.”

  “I really should go too,” Adora said, glancing down at her lap and then back up at Mother. “I need to get home. I have to go up to the palace tonight, and I should give myself plenty of time to get ready. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just get my things.”

  Tristan waited until Adora had left the room and then turned to his mother. “This stops now.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Ambushing me with potential wives because you think I should marry. It was bad enough when it was only me you were upsetting with your schemes, but today you upset Adora. That was wrong, Mother. So no more.” He stared at her. “If I decide to marry again, it will be to a person of my own choosing. And not because you pushed woman after woman that you felt was appropriate at me.”

  “But you have to marry, Tristan.”

  “No I don’t. I don’t have to marry again.” He pushed back his chair and rose. “No more, Mother. This ends now.”

  Sh
e said nothing, didn’t make a move to acknowledge him, so he looked at Maxen. “I’m going to make sure Adora gets home. Will I see you?”

  “Yes, I’m leaving now too.” Maxen rose as well.

  He nodded to Maxen as Adora came back in with a small hat perched on her auburn curls and a shawl around her shoulders. She still looked hesitant, but she thanked his mother for lunch and said good-bye to everyone.

  “I’ll walk you home,” Tristan said and ushered her from the room.

  “You don’t have to,” she said as they stepped out the front door. “It’s not far.”

  He gestured for a servant to bring his horse. “I know, but I don’t mind.”

  He took the horse’s reins from the servant who brought him from the stable and offered an arm to Adora. She took it with a crooked little smile that reminded him of Amory, and they walked out onto the street. Adora only lived on the next street, another reason Tristan and Amory had grown up in each other’s pockets. The distance was short and the district an excellent one; Adora would have been fine walking home alone—and had probably made the trip back and forth any number of times to visit Selene—but he felt better escorting her. He knew Amory would have done the same for Selene.

  “I didn’t know that was why your mother invited me.” Adora’s quiet voice broke the silence between them after they’d walked for a moment. She glanced at him. “Adeline mentioned that your mother wants you to marry again and keeps introducing you to potential candidates. I didn’t know I was one.”

  “I know you didn’t. It isn’t your fault.” His mother had probably thought Adora an excellent possibility. She was lovely, quiet, and ladylike. She came from an excellent family, one they’d known forever and that was now tied to the royal family, and Tristan had spent a lot of time with her over the years. Of course, he also thought of her as a sister.

  “I don’t want to marry you.” She blushed when he glanced at her quickly. “Sorry. You know what I mean, though. I might have been a little infatuated with you when I was much younger but not anymore.”

  “You were?” He hadn’t noticed, and he wondered if that made him a bad person. They’d spent a fair amount of time together when they were younger. Adora was musical; she had a lovely voice and was skilled at several instruments, but few of her siblings or his own had the same talent. Tristan wasn’t quite as skilled, but he could sing and play, and he enjoyed it. He’d often played while she sang or practiced duets with her with some of their siblings as an audience.

  “I’m glad you didn’t notice. It would be embarrassing.” The flush on her pale cheeks hadn’t faded. “But that was a long time ago, before I realized you might feel something for Amory.”

  He blinked in surprise, but he shouldn’t have been. Adora was quiet, but sharp. She noticed everything. Of course she would have seen what developed between him and Amory years ago. He wondered if she’d seen how deep his feelings had gotten, or that Amory’s hadn’t matched them. Whether or not she had, her eyes held no pity now. Just some uncertainty. He hastened to reassure her.

  “I guess I did back then.” He smiled. “Feels like a long time ago.”

  “So much has happened in the last few years,” she said, her voice filled with a weary wisdom that would seem out of place on another young woman but was perfectly normal for Adora.

  “Yes.” So much, and all of it unexpected. He felt as if he was just trying to keep up most days.

  They reached the front gate of Adora’s home, the stone wall and iron gates designed to be both secure and impressive but seemed mostly ostentatious, and she stopped. “You don’t have to walk me in.” She bit her lip. “I don’t mean to say I don’t want you to, but Father is home this afternoon, and you know if he sees you, he’ll talk to you for an hour and you won’t accomplish anything else this afternoon.”

  He laughed. She wasn’t lying. “All right. If you really don’t mind?”

  “I don’t. Thank you for walking me home. I hope it didn’t cause too much trouble with your mother.”

  “Not at all.” His mother and her schemes were nothing for Adora to be concerned with. “I’ll see you at Etan’s party later, then?”

  “Yes, I’m going with Adeline and Pierrick.” She smiled as she turned for the gate. “Thank you again. See you later, Tristan.”

  He watched until she was through the gate and on her way to the house before mounting his horse. Adora had turned into quite the young woman. It would be easier if he could marry her as his mother wanted him to. Well, his mother would be happier anyway. And that thought brought back his anger and frustration from earlier. Mother had gone too far this time. No, Adora didn’t love him or want to marry him, but she was Amory’s sister, and she didn’t deserve to be a pawn in his mother’s machinations. He hoped his mother heeded his words.

  Glowering, he turned his horse and began the journey down to his offices at the port. He had to put aside his frustration and anger for long enough to work this afternoon. And attend a party at the palace for Etan, who was another source of frustration, this evening. Why did that feel like an impossible task?

  Chapter 7

  TRISTAN HAD attended many events at the palace since Amory took up with the prince, the most lavish having been the celebrations of Amory’s marriage to Philip and of the birth of their son. Etan’s birthday celebration did not rise to the level of extravagance of those events, which was only appropriate. The guest list was limited, so the party wasn’t a crush, something Etan probably preferred. Etan enjoyed a party well enough, but he had never, that Tristan knew of, wanted too much of a fuss made for himself.

  Tristan suspected it was Princess Elodie who had pushed for this party in the first place. Philip’s sister was never so happy as when she was at a party. So it was no surprise that she seemed happy tonight. She seemed to vibrate with excitement. She laughed as she danced nearly every dance, the current one with her cousin Vrai.

  The musicians were excellent, something else Tristan had come to expect at the palace. Whether for a ball, party, or concert, the prince always commanded the best musicians in Tournai. Sometimes Tristan thought he preferred the concerts; at least at them, he could sit and listen to the music, appreciating the skill of the musicians without having to socialize.

  He didn’t dislike socializing. He enjoyed it well enough, especially with the right group. Before Amory came to live at the palace, he never would have thought he would choose to socialize with nobility, but he’d found friends and friendly acquaintances among them. He moved among them tonight, joining in conversations as he worked his way through the room. The conversation was light; laughter was prevalent. Servants ghosted among the guests, offering goblets of wine and punch, which probably contributed to the jovial atmosphere. Food overflowed tables on one side of the room, and people gathered there, chatting and eating, while others crowded the dance floor.

  Amory and Philip had been dancing, their happiness and love for each other palpable as always, but now were back on their thrones, talking with Cathal, Flavian, Adeline, and Adora. Tristan had danced the first dance with Adora, hoping somehow to make up for his mother’s misbehavior that afternoon, though Adora didn’t seem to hold any grudge against him or his mother. He still had to force himself not to let his lingering frustration show. With another deep breath, he looked over the crowd from his vantage point near the table where the servants were placing gifts for Etan. Tristan’s gift was there, neatly wrapped by the shopkeeper he’d bought it from since Tristan wasn’t skilled at wrapping parcels. He thought Etan would like the leather-bound journals, or at least find them useful.

  His gaze wandered the crowd with more purpose. He recognized one of Etan’s sisters, Ottilie, with a group of other young ladies. He didn’t know her well, but she was newly betrothed, if he wasn’t mistaken. Her intended wasn’t in attendance on her that he could see. Etan’s other sister, Isaline, danced with her husband, and there was Etan, also on the dance floor. Etan didn’t dance nearly as much as his brother
s did, but he was dancing with Meriall.

  Tristan smiled watching them. Meriall was beaming too as she danced with her older brother. Etan loved his siblings, Tristan knew, but he had a soft spot for Meriall, the youngest of his sisters, which was probably why she was the only one Tristan had spent any amount of time with. She was enthusiastic and playful as a kitten with Etan, though before she’d known Tristan and of his friendship with Etan, she’d been far more restrained. Even then, she’d been genuine in a way many ladies weren’t. He liked that about her, even if Etan did worry about her when she spent more time at court. Which would be soon. She was getting to that age.

  Etan smiled a special smile he seemed to reserve just for his youngest sister. He was probably enjoying this party all the more because Meriall was there and enjoying herself. Tristan liked that about Etan, that selfless concern for others. But it was Etan’s party; he should be enjoying it for himself. He wondered what Etan would do if Tristan went up to him and asked to partner Etan for the next dance. The other guests likely wouldn’t blink, but there would be some gossip and speculation about him and Etan in the morning. Tristan doubted Etan would want the speculation, and he didn’t need it himself. Not with Dariela so recently gone and his mother’s efforts to marry him to any eligible woman she could find.

  He shook off the feelings that thought provoked.

  He wasn’t even sure Etan would talk to him, let alone dance with him, not after the polite refusals Tristan had received over the last few weeks. Polite or not, Etan had been avoiding him, and Tristan didn’t know why. He wanted to know why. He wondered what would happen if he dragged Etan out of the party and into some dark corner. If he kissed him for long enough, could he get Etan to tell him what was wrong? Or would he just not care by then because he would be kissing Etan?