“Father announced I will never be married.” I stroke Kara’s cheek and blink when my eyes begin to sting again. “He said the offer must come from a prince or nothing at all.”
“What does that have to do with finding an heir?” she asks quietly.
“Lord Archer suggested Father declare Rigel as the next heir, with the agreement that we would marry, and then our children would link the two lines.”
Bea’s eyes widen. I glance across the little room. Rella, Antone, and Marielle pretend like they’re not hanging on my every word.
“Father adamantly refused.”
Rella comes over and kneels before me. “You said he would.”
“I know.” I nod and try to smile. “Just hearing him actually say it…”
She stands, pushes her messy blond hair away from her face, and sets her hands on her hips. “Any prince would be lucky to have you.”
I shake my head. “No one wants an alliance with Errinton.”
And I don’t want any prince. I want Rigel.
Kara’s little eyes flutter as she begins to wake. Her face scrunches, and she starts to whimper. Grudgingly, I rise and hand her back to Marielle.
“When do the nobility leave?” Bea asks.
“I’ve no idea. Father hasn’t released them yet. I don’t think he will until a resolution has been found.”
“Why does he need them here?” Rella asks.
“He only keeps them because he can—just as they are to stay away unless summoned.”
Rella shakes her head, but I only shrug—I don’t understand it either.
I look at the baby longingly. “I should go. Bea, will you come with me? Father has announced a formal evening dinner. I’ll need help dressing.”
Bea laughs. “You are too good to me. I’m your maid; you’re not supposed to ask.”
I’ve known Bea since we played together under Rella’s feet in the kitchens, and she’s my lady’s maid because it’s the one thing I’ve demanded of Father. She’s far more friend than servant.
“Will you wear the new gown?” Bea leans forward, her eyes shining with excitement. “The scarlet one?”
There hasn’t been the right occasion, and Bea has been dying to get me in it. I’ll most likely give in because it will make her happy. Not that I have anyone to wear it for.
I nod, and she bobs on her toes, excited. Then, with a gleam in her eyes, she asks, “Will you ask your father for your mother’s rubies?”
Clasping the pendant at my neck, I shake my head. I’m not ready to part with it yet. Bea’s face falls, but she looks as if she understands.
We walk through the village, and I greet those I see. For the most part, the peasants are kind to me, and I try to return their kindness. Others resent me. I understand how very little they have and try not to let their hostility hurt. I would help them if I could. I don’t know how. I have no resources at my disposal—not even a meager allowance of gold.
Calden had an allowance. He spent it on alcohol, women, and who-knows-what-else.
Several knights spar with the visiting lords in the practice yard. Several nod an acknowledgment as I pass. The men are bored, eager to return to their homes and children.
We near a little girl playing in the street. She has no boots. Her coat is threadbare, and her skirt is too short. But she smiles when she sees me, and then she ducks her head shyly. “Hello, Princess.”
“Hello.” I kneel down. “What are you drawing?”
The girl has a stick, and she makes designs in a patch of dirt where the street stones have been pulled up. Little rocks dot the picture.
“It’s our village,” the girl says, still not quite looking at me. “This is my home.” She points to one of the pebbles, and then she points to a much larger rock. “And this is the castle.”
“It’s beautiful.”
She gives me a radiant smile. “You want one of my jewels? I keep the pretty ones in a box Father made me.”
I grin at her. “Are you sure you want to part with one?”
Nodding with exuberance, she says, “You can have this one.”
It’s a little piece of plain white quartz—I’m sure one of her prize possessions.
“Thank you very much.” I accept it from her dirty hand. “What’s your name?”
“Isla,” she says, once again shy.
“I’m Seirsha.” I take her hand in mine. “It’s very nice to meet you. I hope to see you again soon.”
Isla lowers her eyes and smiles. We don’t leave until the little girl goes back to her game.
We’ve almost reached the castle when Bea says, “He was watching you.”
I stop, startled. “Who was?”
“Rigel.” She gives me a sad smile. “He was in the practice yard while you were speaking with the little girl.”
“Oh?” I pretend not to care even though my heart races. I don’t need this kind of hope. “It doesn’t matter.”
I step past her, and she rushes to catch up.
Once we’re in my quarters, Bea pulls the scarlet gown from my wardrobe. I scowl at it. What’s the point? Still, it is beautiful. I run my hand down the shimmering silk. Jewels run from the bodice down the full skirt. The sleeves are nothing more than swaths of fabric.
I will freeze.
“This should wait for summer, Bea.”
She shakes her head. “No, it will be tonight.”
I don’t fight Bea too much. There are few chances to wear something this lovely. Once she’s finally finished, she turns me toward the mirror. She’s left my hair down, brushed it to a shine, and twisted some of it up with my circlet atop my head. The scarlet dress makes my eyes look bright and very blue.
Fingering a strand of hair, I ask, “Do you think it’s too much?”
“No,” Bea says, stubborn as always. She adjusts the sapphire at my throat.
I should go down now, but I linger a few minutes longer, hoping there will be a knock on the door. There is none. Finally, I make my way to the great hall alone.
Chapter Five
Rigel’s deep in conversation, surrounded by nobility. He’s handsome tonight in a charcoal tunic that’s only a shade darker than his eyes. My gaze follows him through the hall. Not once does he look my way. Feeling foolish for imagining he might still harbor feelings for me, I turn back to my conversation with Pippa.
She’s a whirlwind. I can barely keep up with her.
“Do you ride?” she asks.
I nod.
“We’ll go tomorrow—if your father doesn’t dismiss us this evening.”
The great hall is all abuzz. Father promised news, and he’s in a rare jovial mood. He must have found an heir.
“Perhaps,” I say. “If the weather is clear.”
The idea of riding with Pippa makes me nervous. I spend very little time in the company of anyone other than Bea’s family and the cantankerous female dragon.
“I don’t mind snow.” Pippa waves my concern away. “You needn’t worry about me.”
The meal is finished, and guests have broken off into groups. Fires burn in every one of the stone hearths. Merry light and heat is cast from around the perimeter of the room, and for once the hall is warm.
With an eager expression, Pippa watches a trio of musicians take their seats in the very corner of the hall. She turns to me, her eyes bright. “Do you think there will be dancing?”
“I doubt it. The last time we danced was for my eighteenth birthday.”
A wistful expression crosses her face. “I hope there will be. You do dance, don’t you?”
I’ve never liked it—I don’t care to be that close to people. Again, my eyes wander to Rigel. “It can be enjoyable, I suppose.”
A little too observant, Pippa follows my gaze and smirks. “With the right partner.”
I realize I’ve wrapped my fingers around the pendant, and I lower them to my lap.
Father stands, and silence blankets the hall. What obscure relative has he found this time
?
“You all must be wondering if I’ve solved my heir dilemma.” He makes it sound as if it’s a trivial problem—a hiccup in his otherwise perfect reign. “I am pleased to announce that I’ve come to a solution.”
I cross my arms and wait with the rest of the crowd.
“It’s too soon to divulge the details, but I am confident this will solve all our problems—and not only the lack of an heir. It will rekindle the vitality of Errinton as well.”
People murmur around us.
“Tonight, we celebrate Errinton,” Father continues. “Here’s to a new era in our kingdom’s great history. Once again we will thrive!”
The crowd applauds, although they’re as hesitant as I am.
“Where is Seirsha?” Father scans the crowds. I almost shrink back when he spots me. “Come forward.”
Every eye bores into me as I cross the hall. I shouldn’t have worn red tonight. I feel like a siren. I join Father, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.
It’s awkward for both of us.
“I swear by the year’s end, the lower kingdoms will beg for an alliance through Seirsha. They mock us with their silence, but that will soon change.”
Wanting to die, I keep my face expressionless as Father boasts. The crowd’s applause grates on my nerves, and I am eager to be away from their eyes.
“You will stay in attendance until further notice.” Father says, ignoring the nobles’ irritated expressions at the announcement. “I wish to keep you close for council.”
Finally he removes his hand. In a voice quiet enough only I may hear him, he says, “You’re no longer needed.”
Stepping away, I try to disappear into the crowd. Father finishes his speech, and people move about the hall once more. Pippa will be pleased. There is, in fact, going to be dancing.
Will Father notice if I leave? If he does, will he be angry? Most likely. He arranged this strange celebration.
And what are we celebrating? No one knows. Perhaps he’s finally gone mad.
Perhaps he was mad to begin with.
I’ve been humiliated before—a great many times before—but tonight was possibly the worst. Why would Father announce my lack of offers in front of this crowd? What profit did it bring him? They all know. They don’t need reminding.
A hand settles on my shoulder. The intimacy of it against my bare skin startles me, and I whip around. Rigel stands in front of me. I want to shrink away; my embarrassment is now complete.
His eyes narrow with pity. “Dance with me?”
The last thing I want is his charity.
“I would be a poor partner this evening.” I meet his eyes for a moment and then look away as if bored.
Why is he doing this to me? He’s too observant to not know how I feel about him. Why taunt me like this?
Rigel gives me a dark smile that makes my heart stutter. “Dance with me, Seirsha.”
It’s not an offer or a request; it’s a gentle demand.
My name on his lips sends a shiver through me, and I give in. His hand wraps around my waist, and warmth spreads through the thin silk. Trying not to think of how good he feels, I set my hand on his shoulder.
Careful to keep his voice low, Rigel says, “Your father can be cruel.”
I meet his eyes but say nothing.
He studies me. “You do understand the lack of proposals has nothing to do with you, don’t you?”
Do I? Sometimes I wonder.
Undaunted by my silence, he continues, “You didn’t wait for me yesterday.”
My heart flutters, and I stare over his shoulder. He releases my hand and tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His other hand stays at my waist. Our eyes lock, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Why?” he asks.
I shake my head, refusing to answer. If he’s frustrated by my silence, he doesn’t mention it. His hand drops from my chin, and again, we circle the hall, moving with the music.
“What did the girl in the village give you?” he asks. This time, I’m sure he expects no answer.
Unable to let him carry on a one-sided conversation any longer, I sigh. “A rock.”
Rigel’s eyes shine. He’s obviously pleased he was able to break my silence. “Where’s that rock now?”
Startled by the odd turn in the conversation, I give him a quizzical frown. “It’s on the table next to my bookshelf. Why do you ask?”
Rigel stops leading and gives me such an odd look, I step back. His hand tightens against my waist, and he slowly draws me near again.
I’m pinned by his gaze. Heat creeps over my cheeks and down my neck. “Is that wrong?”
“People say you’ve become cold, Seirsha.”
I’m unsure where he’s going with this. What does he want me to say?
“They whisper that you are indifferent to the lives of those around you.” Again, Rigel nudges me closer. “But I’ve watched you these last years, and they’re wrong.”
“You’ve watched me?” I breathe.
His gaze drops. A ghost of a smile passes over his face, and he laughs under his breath. “That didn’t come out the way I intended.” He rubs his neck. “I just wanted you to know.”
A smile plays on my lips. “You wanted me to know that people think I’m cold?”
His eyebrows knit. “No, I—” He stops abruptly and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair.
Daring a step closer, I continue, “You wanted me to know you’ve watched me?”
I fight back a smile that is quickly trying to become a grin.
He’s growing exasperated. Rigel very seldom looks uncomfortable.
Enjoying his discomfort, I lean in. “Or you want me to know you don’t agree with them?”
His eyes flicker to mine, and he gives me a wry smile. “Yes, that.”
Feeling warm, I look away. “Thank you.”
The song ends, and the melody changes, but Rigel doesn’t release me.
“Has Pippa convinced you to ride with us tomorrow?” he asks.
“I hadn’t realized you would be accompanying us.”
His lips twitch. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” I answer too quickly.
A satisfied smirk tugs at his mouth. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you.”
For once in my life, I’m too warm. I stare over his shoulder, fighting for indifference.
“You’re smiling, Seirsha,” he says quietly.
His words startle me enough I look right into his eyes. “Do I not smile?”
“No.” He says the word like a caress, and the warmth of it travels through me, making me feel light and tingly. “Not for years.”
“You used to make me smile,” I whisper. My heart beats madly in my chest. “Do you remember?”
“I remember very well.”
“I’ll go riding with you tomorrow.”
He’s surprised, but in a pleasant way. “You will?”
“I will.”
***
I wish I could walk into the great hall unannounced. Unfortunately, Father is adamant about keeping up appearances. Perhaps I can slip in unnoticed.
The guards stand by the entrance, talking. From the sound of their laughter, I’m sure the subject is one I wish no knowledge of. Moving quickly, I attempt to walk past them. Surprisingly alert this morning, they straighten their posture and nod toward me. The gesture is both a mandatory greeting and a warning to wait. I stop and try not to give into the childish notion to roll my eyes.
“Princess Seirsha!”
Our noble guests stand from their morning meal and watch as I cross the hall. My boots click on the stone floor, and the sound echoes off the walls.
This show is ridiculous. Father isn’t even in attendance this morning.
“I rather like that,” Pippa says when I join them. She playfully elbows Archer. “Father never had anyone announce me when I came down for breakfast.”
Archer raises an eyebrow at his wif
e. “That’s because it would go to your head.”
She gives him a radiant, teasing smile and tosses her long, red braid behind her shoulder.
“It’s highly overrated,” I say as I find my seat.
Pippa leans forward on her elbow. “Rigel says you have agreed to ride with us today.”
I glance at his empty seat as if I’ve only just noticed his absence. “Where is he?”
“Your father has summoned him.” Pippa says this as if it’s trivial, and she looks startled when I suck in a surprised breath.
“Why?” I demand.
Pippa shakes her head, her eyes widening at my tone. “I don’t know.”
She gives Archer a questioning glance.
“I only saw him briefly,” Archer answers. “He didn’t say.”
Father saw us dancing last night. I had hoped with the strange mood he was in he would be lenient, but I must have been wrong.
Pippa leans forward, and her eyebrows knit with concern. “I’m sure it’s all right.”
Before I can argue, Argus comes to my side. “His Majesty wishes an audience with you, Your Highness.”
He makes it sound pleasant, like we’re going to have a friendly chat over scones. That will not be the case. Father only summons me when he is displeased.
“Excuse me.” I stand and try not to dwell on Pippa’s wary expression.
I stride from the hall, hoping to look bored and disdainful instead of terrified. Argus walks just behind me. Servants part for us as we make our way down the drafty halls.
The castle is rich with draperies, art, and the much-coveted pieces of dragon armor—it’s an ostentatious display of the wealth of generations past. As ornate as long-dead kings tried to make it, it’s still cold. There is no warmth in these halls, not from the fires that burn continuously or from the hearts of the people who inhabit the structure.
The guards outside Father’s chambers nod when we turn the corner, and one raps on the elaborately carved door. Father’s steward, a dour man by the name of Zander, opens the door and nods me in.
Rigel sits before Father. I can tell from the brief moment our eyes lock, he is furious, but I have no idea what may have transpired between them. He covers any trace of emotion and turns his attention back to the king.
The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 52
