Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4)

by Pope, Christine

  “Ashara Millende,” my sister mused. “’Tis a pretty name, albeit one I have not heard before. Has she never been to court?”

  “I think not, or I would have recalled her. No doubt she’s from a family who keeps to the country. I shall have Keldryn look into it on the morrow, to see what he can learn of her and her people.” I lifted my own neglected wine before asking, “And what of you, sister? I was gone for some hours — did you have the opportunity to spend any of that time with Lord Sorthannic?”

  “I did not,” she replied calmly. “He did not attend the reception at all, but went home directly after the tournament. Although he was the victor, he feared that his horse had pulled a muscle, and wanted it seen to as soon as possible. Or at least that is what I heard,” she added, in a casual tone that did not fool me at all.

  “Poor luck…for you and the horse.”

  She shook her head and lifted a forkful of roast fowl, though she did not put it in her mouth at once. Instead she remarked, “I think it would be better, Torric, if you focused your energies on your own future spouse. I most certainly do not need you playing matchmaker.”

  Fine words. However, that was precisely what I would have to play at some point, for I was the only one with the power to oversee such an undertaking. A decision would have to be made one day, of course. Oddly, the thought of marrying off my sister did not cause quite as much of a pang as it had even a few days ago. Perhaps it was that I had seen the woman I wanted, envisioned now a future with someone by my side, and therefore did not need to cling as tightly to my one sympathetic companion as I once did.

  But in one thing Lyarris was right. Now was the time for me to focus on my future wife, and that meant finding out as much about her as possible.

  * * *

  “There is not much, Your Majesty,” Lord Keldryn said, spreading his hands in apology. “Yes, there was an Allyn Millende, who died some ten years ago. His second wife has the management of his estate, by all accounts, although she has her primary residence here in the capital, and has let out the holdings in the country. There was a daughter — or rather, daughters. I believe the second wife had at least one, but it is difficult to tell for sure, as records concerning daughters are often not as complete as those involving sons.”

  “But are they a good family, Keldryn?” I asked, folding my hands on my desktop and fixing him with an expectant stare.

  My chancellor lifted his shoulders. “As to that, Your Majesty, certainly there is no hint of scandal associated with them, and the lands have been in the family for hundreds of years. Some good connections, as it appears the second wife’s younger sister is married to the Baron of Delanir. Nothing exceptional in any of it, as far as I can tell so far. A quiet household, from what I can ascertain. Their circle is…ahem…not quite elevated enough to have brought them to court ere this time.”

  I thought I detected the slightest note of disapproval in his tone but decided not to comment on it. Keldryn had not been pleased that my invitation had extended all the way down to daughters of baronets, and now that it seemed my attention had fixed on one of those undesirables, I surmised he was even less satisfied with the situation. Not that I cared; Ashara Millende was still of gentle birth, if not the daughter of a duke or earl, and her family seemed respectable enough.

  “Very good, Keldryn,” I said. “That will be all.”

  He bowed, but I noted something reluctant in his manner, and his progress to the door was a good deal slower than usual.

  Oh, these games — how I wearied of them. For of course he could not come out and say directly what was bothering him, but had to engage in the sort of foot-dragging one might expect from a reluctant five-year-old. “Out with it,” I said. “What bothers you, Keldryn?”

  The droopy hound expression was back with a vengeance. “Only that — perhaps, Your Majesty — perhaps it would be wiser not to show such a preference quite so early in the process. Baron Lhastir Aldrenne was…somewhat disturbed…to hear from his daughter that you singled out this Ashara Millende with a compliment, when you did not pay one to any of the other girls in the pavilion.”

  Lhastir Aldrenne. The man was odious, puffed up with his own importance, not only because of the size of his barony, but also because it happened to encompass lands that contained the richest gold mines in Sirlende. Those mines had made his father think he could hold his riches over my own father, in order to fund the campaign to regain the crown from the usurper. And yes, that wealth had come in useful, but the debt had been repaid in more land, and not the elevation to earl or even duke that the current baron’s father had hoped for. Apparently that sting had not been forgotten, even a quarter-century later. No wonder he was nettled by the news that I had preferred someone of lesser birth to his own precious daughter.

  “As to that,” I drawled, leaning back in my chair and fixing Keldryn with a hard stare, “I would rather have a viper in my bed than that sharp-tongued daughter of his, so they might as well give up any hopes they may have in that direction. I’ll admit she’s more or less pleasing to the eye — that is, until she opens her mouth. At any rate, if Baron Aldrenne has any problems with the way I am comporting myself, then he can bring them to me directly, instead of using you like some schoolgirl carrying tales. That is all, Keldryn.”

  He bowed at once and hurried out of the room, no doubt wishing to be gone before I uttered any more choice words on the subject of Lhastir Aldrenne…or his unpleasant daughter.

  After my chancellor had shut the door behind him, I sat up abruptly, and then pushed my chair away so I might go to the window. Not that the prospect there was so very pleasing; a grey mist hung heavily on the city, so thick that most likely it would not clear at all. I supposed I should be glad that the weather had stayed fair until the tournament was safely over, but Keldryn’s words had nettled me, and I found myself restless, wishing it were this evening, and not barely two hours past noon.

  Many floors below my suite, I had no doubt the palace buzzed and hummed with activity, the kitchens working at a double pace to prepare the food for such a large crowd, even as a veritable army of maids fanned out through the rooms where the gathering would be held, dusting and scrubbing and mopping. In an odd way, I envied them their tasks, although of course I had never held a broom or a mop in my life. At least they had something to occupy them, whereas I…

  It is your own fault, I told myself. You told Keldryn to clear your calendar for this week, so you might focus on your search for a bride. Is it any wonder that now you find yourself idle?

  Not that listening to ambassadors from South Eredor or Farendon droning on about trade agreements and shipping disputes would have been a very attractive alternative.

  At least it was good news that Keldryn had brought me. He had not found anything exceptional about the Millende family, so it seemed I was safe enough to pursue this Ashara…if that was what I truly intended to do. Perhaps for once Keldryn was right, and it would be less than wise for me to exhibit such an interest so early in the game.

  No, that was foolish. If the girl had taken my fancy, why should I not increase the acquaintance, see where things might lead? I was the Emperor of Sirlende; no one should be dictating to me what I could or could not do.

  Then I let out a bitter laugh. Once, when I was very young, I might have believed such a fairy tale, but nearly five years on the throne had taught me otherwise.

  A knock at the door to my suite, and Kraine, the burly guard-cum-footman who was on duty that day, went to it to reveal my sister. She nodded at him and smiled, then came further into the room and paused a few feet away from me, one eyebrow arched.

  “Goodness, Torric, you’re looking positively sour. Should I check to see if any of the lemons are missing from one of the trees in the kitchen gardens?”

  “Very amusing.”

  She hesitated, and cast a quick glance at Kraine. He bowed immediately and stepped outside, giving us as much privacy as we would ever have.

  “T
ruly,” she said, once he had shut the door behind him, “I thought to see you brimming with excitement over this evening, and yet you appear instead to have the aspect of someone awaiting an appointment with the tooth surgeon.”

  I made an offhand gesture, then turned away from her and stared out the window once more. “It is nothing. I am merely impatient for this afternoon to be done with, so that I might be at the dinner.”

  “And see her again?”

  “I suppose that will depend on the seating arrangements,” I said, my tone deliberately indifferent.

  “And of course you have no say in those.”

  My sister had me there, for of course all I had to do was drop a word in Lord Hein’s ear, and Ashara Millende would be seated as close to me as propriety allowed. Not beside me — no, those places of honor were reserved for my sister and my mother. But the young woman might be ensconced very near, even directly across from me, if I made my wishes known. I could only imagine the expression on Baron Aldrenne’s face at such a maneuver, and almost sent for my seneschal then and there, so I might let him make the arrangements.

  But no, that would not be wise. The baron was doomed to disappointment in this matter, for his daughter was the very last I would ever wish to choose. Even so, there was no need to purposely antagonize him. I would let fate decide. There were so very many young women, and there would be many tables set up besides the high table at which I, my family, and certain high-ranked lords and their wives would be seated. If, in spite of all that, Ashara Millende still was seated within speaking distance, then I would know there was some greater power at work here, and I would let it do as it willed.

  “Apparently my conduct toward the Lady Ashara has already been noted in certain quarters, so I will have to be more circumspect in the future. And that means leaving the seating arrangements strictly alone.”

  A slight shake of her head, and my sister replied, “Circumspect? That is so unlike you.”

  I shot her a pained look. “Truly, I have very little opportunity to be anything but circumspect, as my entire life is governed by etiquette and tradition. As is yours.”

  The amused glint disappeared from her eyes, and she watched me carefully. “Too well I know that, even if I try to forget it as best I can.”

  “And does it ever weary you? Do you ever long to escape?”

  She smiled then, but it was a small, sad smile. “I think everyone does, from time to time. The bricklayer must weary of his labor in the warm sun, and the seamstress must tire of staring at row upon row of stitches, ruining her eyesight to make sure they are all even. And when I think of them, or people like them, then I think I should not be overly dissatisfied with my lot. I never have to worry about being hungry, or cold, or whether I shall earn enough to put food in the mouths of my children. So perhaps we have our own prison, but it is a very fine one, a cell that most people would happily be confined within.”

  I could not recall ever hearing her speak in such a fashion before, and I stared at her in some surprise. “And have you spoken with these bricklayers and seamstresses, so you might know their minds?”

  “I have spoken to more people than you might imagine, Torric. I speak to my maids and my wardrobe mistress and the cooks and the footmen. You see me writing all the time, but have you ever asked me what it is that I am writing?”

  To my shame, I had not. I thought perhaps she was writing letters — although to whom, I did not know — or perhaps was setting down some sort of memoir.

  My silence seemed to be the only answer she required. “I am writing the stories they tell me, Torric. Sometimes it is tales their mothers or grandmothers have told them, and sometimes it is accounts of things which have occurred in their own lives. They are not merely servants, but people with their own lives and hopes and fears. They speak to me, because I encourage it, and hearing their stories allows me to live a life beyond what I have here in the palace. And so I write them down, that they may not be forgotten.”

  I reflected then how it was that I could spend so much time with her, speak of so many things, and yet never have discussed this with her before. I said as much, and she lifted her shoulders.

  “To be fair, Torric, I did not volunteer any information on the subject, either. I did not know what you would think if I said that I was writing down so much of what those people — people you would consider common, I suppose — had told me. I thought it best to keep it to myself.”

  Yes, very likely I would have laughed, or at the very least questioned her judgment in cultivating such an intimate acquaintance with those so far outside her social circle. If she needed confidantes, she certainly did not lack for noblemen’s daughters who would have eagerly seized the chance to become close to the Crown Princess. And I guessed it was for that very reason that she did not cultivate such friendships.

  To my surprise, she came to me and took my hands in hers, squeezing my fingers gently before she released them and stepped back a pace. Her expression was very thoughtful. “I think it is a wonderful thing you are doing, you know,” she said. “You are making your own fate, not the one our father imagined for you. Yes, you are the Emperor, and though you wield great power, one power has been taken from you — the power to walk away. You would never abdicate your duty. But perhaps if you follow your heart, you will find that the crown does not weigh quite so heavily.” A quick, shy smile, and she added, “And I can only hope that I will be able to make such a choice when the time comes.”

  “You will,” I promised, for it seemed clear enough to me that, teasing remarks aside, she thought the Duke of Marric’s Rest would be a good match for her. I would certainly do everything in my power to see that such a thing came to pass — once my own future was settled, of course.

  “And when the Emperor of Sirlende says such a thing, then I know it will happen.” The teasing glint was back in her eyes. “But be of good cheer, Torric, for you will see this Ashara again this evening, and that is not so far off. Indeed, I must be getting back to my own suite soon, or Liseth is sure to chide me for not giving her enough time to dress my hair.”

  “Oh, I am sure the greater part of four hours is not sufficient for that task.”

  Lyarris only shook her head, and stood on her tiptoes to give me a swift kiss on the cheek before departing the room. After she left, Kraine once again took up his position just within the door, and I forced myself not to sigh. In that moment I wished I had an insistent lady’s maid to fuss over me. It might do something to fill up my time.

  Instead, I went to my desk and took up my pen, and pretended to pore over a report one of my engineers had sent me, a proposal for improving the drainage in the Marlenthe District, which was prone to flooding during the rainy season. It was not very compelling reading, but I had little else to occupy me.

  In that moment I wondered what she was doing, this Ashara Millende. Was she spending the afternoon in preparations for this evening’s dinner, or did she have something more worthy to fill these hours which seemed to stretch interminably?

  * * *

  I should have known that Lord Hein would handle the matter of the seating arrangements with the precision of one of my generals preparing his latest campaign.

  “Of course it would not do to have you move your seat, Your Majesty,” he told me, after I had summoned him to my office to drill him on the preparations.

  Yes, perhaps I should have inquired into these details earlier, but at the time it had not seemed all that important to me, as I had never imagined that my fancy would be so caught by a young woman this early in the week. Now I was keenly interested to know what my chances of encountering Ashara tonight might be. “Of course,” I said, pretending to look over the diagram he had laid before me, a diagram which consisted of meticulously drawn rectangles and squares — representing, I supposed, the tables and chairs set up in the ballroom, as even the great dining chamber could not hope to contain such numbers.

  “So,” he continued, “at the end of each course
the ladies will move on to the next table, giving them the opportunity to circulate. True, they will still not all have the chance to converse with you, Your Majesty, but at least this removes the problem of one set of young women sitting at the high table for the entire meal.”

  “Very clever, Lord Hein,” I said, although I thought privately that it seemed rather foolish to make all those young women keep moving about the room, rather like children playing a game of Going to Karthels. However, in this version at least I hoped everyone would have a chair to return to, even if it were not at the high table.

  He beamed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I assure you, it will be an affair the likes of which the palace has never seen!”

  I smiled and thanked him…and reflected that his estimation of the event might very likely be accurate.

  Chapter 7

  Ashara

  “No, no — I told you to bring up the chamomile rinse, not the mint one. I have heard His Majesty does not care for sharp scents. Go downstairs and get the correct bottle from Claris, you stupid girl!”

  Without a word I took the bottle of hair rinse and left the bath chamber. Luckily, I had not drawn the water for my stepsisters’ baths yet, or I would have had to do it all over again, since of course it would have begun to cool during the time I went downstairs to fetch the proper solution.