“Will Chandria be able to handle it? You know what happened to the last one.”
“What do you mean, the last one?” Chandra asked.
Orryn looked hesitant to answer, but then he said, “There have been Imelas that didn’t survive the inquiry.”
The alarm sounding in Chandra’s head demanded more details, but sudden weariness kept her from asking. She sank back down onto the chair.
Jhon sat facing her. “I will do everything I can to get you through this.”
“How?” Chandra asked.
“Father is gifted with the ability to rearrange one’s thoughts,” Orryn said, moving to her side.
“How is that any different than what your lady does?” Chandra said to him. “Either way it’s mental rape.”
Jhon straightened in his chair. “I would never.”
“To forcibly invade someone’s mind is no different than forcibly invading their body,” Chandra said.
“Father will not force you.” Orryn sat next to her. “He only wants to protect you from those who would take that which you don’t wish to give.”
“So it’s like hypnotism?” Chandra asked.
“Something like that,” Jhon said, “though far more complicated. I cannot claim your thoughts as the Sovereign can, but I can set up doors to stop her from entering certain corners of your mind. She’ll have access only to that which we wish her to see.”
“Which is?”
“That you, that all of us, are her allies.”
Chandra looked from Jhon to Orryn. “Are we? Allies?”
“Yes,” Orryn said. “But not to her.”
“Something else she must not know,” Jhon stressed.
“So you’re going to hypnotize me so she won’t know your secrets,” Chandra said.
“And yours. You know where the Kee is. She mustn’t learn of it or the consequences could be dire.”
“For who?”
“Everyone.”
“As in?”
“Everyone.”
Chandra turned her gaze to the hearth. “You said I’m Taubastet,” she said, realizing she was not yet out of the fire. “What makes you think I am?”
“Your eyes; the shape of your face,” Orryn said. “Your features are very distinct.”
Chandra thought to be a little insulted. No one had ever questioned her heritage before. Yes, she had the same high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes as her Cherokee grandmother, but she also had the Scandinavian complexion and green irises from her father’s side. Until now her features had never been an issue, except when she looked in the mirror and thought herself not pretty enough. Did the belief that she was Taubastet make her inferior to these people? It certainly seemed that way.
Tiersa reentered the room. “What have I missed?” she asked.
“We were just discussing why we believe Chandria is Taubastet,” Orryn said.
“There’s doubt?” Tiersa said. “Goodness, just look how she’s dressed!”
“We weren’t speaking of her clothing,” Orryn said. “We were speaking of her face.”
“How about we not talk about either,” Chandra said.
Tiersa rounded Chandra and looked her up and down. “You really are pretty for a cliff dweller.”
“She’s pretty, period,” Orryn said with irritation.
Tiersa gave her brother a surprised look, then turned her attention back to Chandra. She brought her finger to her chin, thinking. “The Sovereign loves pretty things, doesn’t she, Orryn?” she said after a moment. “I wonder how much prettier Chandra could be.”
Orryn scoffed. “Don’t be ridicu—”
“No wait wait wait,” Jhon said, interrupting. His eyes narrowed as he looked Chandra over. “By the Maker, this could work.”
“What are you two plotting?” Mayra asked, glancing between them.
“Yes, what are you plotting?” Chandra asked, feeling more self-conscious by the minute.
“If we make you look acceptable to our Lady, desirable—”
Chandra thrust out a warning hand. “Don’t even go there.”
“Go there?”
“Are you implying I should become a concubine or something?”
“Oh no no, nothing like that,” Jhon assured her. “But if you appeal to her sense of beauty, and your mind is altered to convince her your ancestral knowledge could further her ambitions . . .”
“What do you mean, ambitions?” Chandra asked.
“It would be a slap in the face to the Taubastets,” Orryn said, his expression indicating he’d only just realized it. “A Taubastet in court, working against their own kind. It would be unprecedented.”
“What about Tygg?” Chandra said, more as a challenge than a question. “That’s the only Taubastet we should be concerned about.”
“If I remain in her graces,” Orryn said, “and you come under the protection of them, then together we could work to free him.”
Chandra’s hopes lifted. Until now, she’d felt like a pawn, but if this hastily planned scheme worked, then she and Tygg had a chance to come away with their lives. “How much time do we have?” she asked.
“Not much,” Jhon said, “so there is no more time for discussion. Mayra, Tiersa, take Chandra upstairs and work your magic. Orryn, come with me. I must lock some doors if you are to have any hope of hiding from our Sovereign Lady.”
“But what if—” Chandra began.
“No time to analyze the details,” Jhon said. “You will just have to trust me.”
She agreed, though reluctantly, and within moments she and Orryn were whisked to opposite locations in the house.
CHAPTER 20
“Are you sure there’s time for this?” Chandra asked. A scented bath in a large copper cask had been drawn for her, and considering the urgency of the situation, she didn’t feel there was time for the luxury of a soak.
“You don’t have time to talk about it,” Mayra said from the other side of the privacy panel. “Just get in, scrub quick, and get out. And don’t forget your hair!”
“Fine,” Chandra said. She peeled off Sachmei’s leathers and unwound the bandage around her leg. The wound beneath it was still pink and sore, but the stitches were intact and, thankfully, there was no more sign of infection. She stepped into the cask and groaned with pleasure. The water was warm and velvety, its jasmine oils shimmering like dew drops on the surface. She reclined against the slanted back of the cask and closed her eyes.
Mayra peeked around the panel. “Do you call this quick?” she scolded. She stepped around and set a large pitcher next to the cask. “Here’s some water to rinse your hair.”
“Uh-hmm,” Chandra said. It seemed strange; here she was, naked before a complete stranger, and she didn’t even care. Perhaps there was more Taubastet in her than she realized. At the springs, Tygg had certainly had no qualms about nudity.
The thought of him snapped Chandra back to attention. She sat up and dipped her head into the water, then raised it out and began to scrub it with soap. She reached a hand toward the pitcher at her side, but felt a waterfall of warm water splash over her instead. She blinked to see Mayra setting the empty pitcher aside.
“Out. Now,” Mayra said, holding a towel out to her.
Chandra rose and took it gratefully. She wrapped the towel around herself and secured it.
“Florie, dispose of those,” Mayra said, frowning at the pile of leathers Chandra had left on the floor. A young serving girl scurried to retrieve them.
“No!” Chandra said. “I mean, they aren’t mine. I’ll need to return them when—” She stopped, realizing there might not be a when.
“Very well.” Mayra turned to the servant. “See that they are cleaned and stored away. If Chandra has need of them again, please do not hesitate to fetch them for her.” The girl gathered them up.
Mayra took Chandra by the shoulders and turned her toward the dressing table across the way. “Tiersa has selected a few frocks that will do nicely I think,” she sai
d, nudging her in that direction.
Chandra could see an assortment of gowns draped across a cushioned lounge next to the table. Her mouth went dry. Though she’d been strangely immodest both in the tub and out of it, the thought of wearing a princess dress was more than a little unnerving. She stepped toward the lounge and stared down at the selections. There was an assortment of pastels, nothing dark or bright, and all were similar in style and fabric: satiny and low-cut and cinched at the waist, their long full skirts flounced in layers of gossamer and silk.
“They’re so foofy,” Chandra said, though she wished she hadn’t. She knew if she was to succeed in saving Tygg, she would have to play the part. And based on the example of the two Syddian women now staring at her, she would have to play it beautifully.
“I’m sorry,” Chandra said. “I’m just not used to this kind of luxury.” She forced a smile. “Which do you think would look best?”
Tiersa’s eyes brightened. Clearly she was enjoying the fashion possibilities as much as Chandra was hating them. “The yellow one, I think,” she said. “But first let’s do something with that hair.”
~~~
Orryn shook his foggy head. This wasn’t the first time he’d found himself standing before the fireplace in the drawing room, a wine glass in hand, dressed in civilian clothes and not remembering how he got there. He surveyed the room, wondering where everyone was. He never drank unless it was with family on special occasions, and the empty glass in his hand and the taste of wine on his lips indicated he’d definitely been drinking.
His father, dressed in his black Council robes, entered the room. “Son,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“Feeling?” Orryn asked.
“About the meeting with the Sovereign. You know she’ll soon send for you. The Council will want to know what your role was in the capture of the Imela and the Taubastet male now in custody.”
“Ah, that.” Yes, Orryn remembered now. There had been a miscommunication regarding his replacement at the borders. He was temporarily relieved of his duties, but would soon undergo lavation and hopefully recover them. But first he had to present the Council and the Sovereign Lady with the girl named Chandra. As for the male in the catacombs, that was Pey’s problem. “I think they’ll be pleased to learn the Imela has ancestral memory,” he said. “Imagine what we could learn from her.”
“Indeed,” his father said. “I suspect the girl will gladly provide the information the Sovereign needs, as well as the redemption you need.”
“When our Lady visits my mind, surely she’ll see I did not betray my oath. I could not bear for her to think I was a traitor to my vows.”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to be concerned about that. Without lavation, Pedants are always at risk of falling prey to their primitive desires. But you did not succumb to them. That will surely please her.”
“I only regret that she thinks I have. Every moment she believes me a traitor is like a knife to my heart.”
“No worries, son. She’ll soon realize that by you allowing Pey and his men to think otherwise, it is a testament to your loyalty. Had Pey brought her the Imela, he would have reaped the reward but not had the information necessary to make full use of her. Our Sovereign Lady will soon realize your deception was for the good of Syddia.”
Orryn set down his glass. “Perhaps I shouldn’t wait until she sends for me. Perhaps if I took the Imela to her without summons.”
“Now, son, be patient. The girl just needs a moment. Your mother and sister had to work especially hard to make her look presentable, and my coaching on how she should act took much longer than I expected. No need of her looking like a cat dragged in from the rain, eh? That would not go well for her, or for you.”
Orryn sighed. “I’m just anxious to get on with the lavation. My insides feel itchy and—” His voice froze. “By the Maker,” he whispered as his eyes gravitated to the door.
Chandra stood in the doorway of the drawing room, a silhouette of gold against the light of the foyer at her back. Orryn’s mother and sister were a few steps behind her, their voices asking what he thought of her. But Orryn could barely register their words much less reply to them.
“Do you think she’ll please the Sovereign?” Jhon asked, jarring his thoughts.
Orryn nodded slowly.
Chandra walked into the room.
Orryn shifted his eyes to his father. “Why do I feel so strange?”
“You need lavation, is all,” Jhon assured him.
“Shall we have her wait elsewhere?” Mayra asked Jhon with concern. “I didn’t realize the effect she would have.”
“Oh let her stay,” Tiersa said with a grin. “This is so much more fun.”
Orryn frowned. Would his sister never cease being a pain in his backside?
Chandra approached Orryn and stopped. “Do you like it?” she asked, tracing her fingers along the lace of the gown’s low-cut bodice.
Again Orryn nodded, unsure how to respond.
“I feel like Cinderella,” she said, smiling.
“Cinderella?”
“A character from a Sister World fairy tale,” Jhon explained. “From what I understand, it was a dress that helped her find her prince and live happily ever after.” Jhon motioned Chandra to the couch. “Come, sit.”
Chandra sat down in a drift of yellow. She lifted her gaze to Orryn, who could not help but stare at her in return. As he ran his eyes over her, he noticed she had a thick line of kohl around her pale green eyes and a dusting of pink on her cheeks and lips. Her hair, once a short, wild mess, was now braided into multiple strands and pulled from her face, held back by decorative clips of topaz and gold, sparkling against her ebony and lavender hair. He could not help but think Cinderella had done far more than put on a pretty dress.
“You look different,” he said.
She blushed and lowered her eyes, then looked up at him through long lashes. Orryn felt his legs go a little weak. By the Maker, what was wrong with him?
“Chandra says she’s eager to meet our Sovereign Lady,” Mayra said to Orryn.
“Yes,” Chandra said excitedly. “I hear the palace is very pretty.”
“Pretty, yes,” Orryn said, frowning. The girl sitting before him seemed nothing like the angry, stubborn feline he’d practically had to wrestle to get here.
“I’ve never been to a palace before,” Chandra said. “I hope the queen likes me.”
Orryn glanced at his father.
Jhon cleared his throat. “Oh . . . yes . . . no worries. Chandra, you look lovely, and I’ve gone over every protocol I can think of to insure your visit will be satisfactory.”
Chandra looked at him worriedly.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Everything seems so strange.”
“Understandable,” he said. “Most Imelas have a difficult time adjusting to the change in their surroundings. But you have done better than most. You’re exceptional, and for that the Sovereign will likely take you under her wing.”
Chandra smiled, looking somewhat pleased, but then she cocked her head. “Why is that again?”
“Because you have ancestral memory. A great gift,” he said.
“Oh, that’s right.” She turned her eyes to Orryn. “Are you coming with me? To the palace?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I must explain where I found you, and of course how you’ll be an asset to the court. If you’re accepted, you’ll live there from now on and—” Orryn turned away, forcing his eyes from Chandra and toward the fireplace.
“And what?” Chandra asked.
“It will be goodbye for us,” he said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Pedants are not allowed to mingle with ladies of the court.”
The metal knocker on the front door pounded, sending a loud echo into the room. Orryn turned to his father. “You’re coming, I gather,” he said.
“Of course. I’m head Council aren’t I?”
“Yes, but under the circumstances they m
ay feel there’s a conflict of interest.”
“Regardless, I must be there to provide the information I gathered during my interview with the girl.” He smiled at Chandra. “You have little to fear from the Council, my dear.”
“And from our Sovereign Lady?” Orryn asked.
Jhon’s smile faded. “In that, there are no guarantees.”
The sound of the front door opening, followed by the voice of Pey, interrupted their conversation. Jhon squared his shoulders and adjusted his robes. “Come, Chandra . . . Orryn,” he said, gesturing to the door. “Let’s not keep our escort waiting.”
CHAPTER 21
The Council was assembled in a large chamber located within the palace itself. Circular in shape, the high walls of the room were made of rough white stone, while the tiles of its black marble floor were as smooth as polished glass. Along each side of the corridor leading to the tiered seats of the Council, cressets flickered with the fires dancing within them. Between each cresset a towering statue stood, marble depictions in perfect human form.
Orryn, Chandra at his side and his father in the lead, walked down the corridor toward the Sovereign’s throne and the tiered Council seats on either side of it. But this was not the first time he had taken that long walk. The first had been when he was but eight years of age. His father had been newly appointed then and, as was the Sovereign’s custom, all male children of council members were to be brought forward to determine their own ability to serve. She’d immediately taken a liking to him. Few boys were blessed with hair and eyes like his, and those that were were almost always chosen for duty, regardless of their young age. Most were sent to be trained as Pedants, while others remained in the palace, doing whatever she desired of them. In that, Orryn supposed being a Pedant was a blessing rather than a curse. Though he’d been forced to give up part of his humanity in order to become one, a life behind walls was surely worse.
As Orryn walked toward the Sovereign Lady and her Council, he could not help but replay the first time she’d raked her eyes over him. He’d been a frightened little boy back then, yet now he realized, even at the age of one and twenty, he still felt the same sense of dread. He glanced at Chandra who was walking at his side, and his dread turned to an emotion far more disturbing. Her childlike awe as she took in her surroundings left him with the unexpected urge to protect her. You need lavation is all, he reminded himself. If only the nagging voice in his head believed it were true.
Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1) Page 14
