by Serena Chase
“You’re blond.” I looked to Erielle. “She’s blond.” I repeated the obvious.
Erielle grinned. “Not for long. Dyfnel has brewed some sort of concoction that he believes will make her hair nearly as fiery as yours. He’ll be arriving shortly with a couple of maids to help apply the mixture.”
“Oh.” It was then I noticed the decided blush on Vayle’s cheeks.
“Vayle, I’m sorry.” I grimaced. “What an ungracious way for me to meet the one doing me and the Kingdom such a service. Forgive me. I’m honored to meet you and grateful that you’ve volunteered to serve E’veria in this way.”
“I took no offense, Your Highness,” she said softly.
“I’m going to teach Vayle how to help you dress like Rozen,” Erielle said, adding, “Since I won’t be there in the carriage to help.”
Vayle was a quick study in learning how to dress me in the somewhat unfamiliar male garb. The task was not difficult, but it differed from the feminine way of dress, and since I expected it would take a good deal more patience when confined in a tiny space like a carriage, I would be glad of her assistance.
“You don’t look like a woman at all!” Vayle exclaimed after I applied the last piece of my costume: gray-tinted spectacles that hid the brightness of my blue Andoven eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Forgive me, Your Highness! That was a terribly rude thing to say.”
I laughed. “That’s the whole point of the disguise, Vayle! I’m glad to see it’s still as believable as it was back when Erielle and I first came up with the idea.”
A knock sounded on the door to the hallway and Erielle went to see who it was, though I already knew. “It’s Dyfnel,” I told Vayle. “Do you need a moment alone with the looking glass before your beautiful blond hair turns to fire?”
She shook her head. “I must confess I’m a little curious. Who could dream of such a thing as to undo the appearance Rynloeft granted me?”
“Thank you for doing this for me, Vayle. Truly.”
“Shall I help you back into your gown now, Your Highness?”
Just then, the herald announced Dyfnel.
I smiled at Vayle. “Thank you, but I think you are about to be otherwise occupied.” I turned around.
I had been wearing men’s clothes when I’d first met Dyfnel, but not the rest of my disguise. He had never seen me dressed completely as Rozen de Morphys. To say his reaction was surprised was an understatement, but when he got over his shock, he smiled and nodded. “Good. Very good. Well done.”
Erielle and I bid good-bye to Vayle and set off to visit my father’s chambers, only to be informed that he’d gone for a walk in the gardens. Attired in my squirely disguise, I had a freedom of movement—even with the bindings around my chest—that I wasn’t allowed in a gown, and it seemed to birth a certain restlessness and a desire to be with my horse.
“Let’s go to the stables,” I suggested.
Erielle frowned. “Do you think we should summon a guard?”
I laughed. “Do squires normally have need of a guard? Besides, I have you.”
“I’m wearing a gown.”
“Then we’ll pretend I’m your guard.”
The look she gave me would have seemed offended if not for the snort that accompanied it.
“Come on. I miss Stanza.”
“Your father would want you to have a guard,” she frowned, but brightened. “But there are bound to be a few knights around the stables. All right, let’s go.”
As Erielle surmised, there were quite a few knights about, and if they thought it odd that a lowly squire would seem so familiar with a Regent’s daughter—or the princess’s horse, for that matter—they didn’t mention it. While several acknowledged Erielle with a dip of the head or an outright greeting, I received no particular notice. No notice, that is, until I caught site of Julien near one of the paddocks.
He was leaning against the fence with one elbow propped up on the top rung. The three men facing him were my brothers.
“Erielle, wait.” I said, unable to keep a prankish tone from my whisper. “Kinley and Lewys have never seen me like this.”
She laughed when I waggled my eyebrows.
We crept a little closer.
Almost as if he deduced my intent—perhaps he had witnessed my grin?—the corner of Julien’s mouth twitched when I met his eyes, but it quickly settled into his former expression.
He stood up from his lean. “Men de Whittier, I’m afraid I must beg my leave of you. My sister and my squire approach and I would see what they need of me.”
Rowlen was the first to turn. His gaze rested a moment on Erielle and then moved to me. He blinked and laughed. “Squire, indeed.”
I looked down at the ground and kicked my foot in the dirt, trying to take attention from the amusement that filled me at Rowlen’s reaction to my disguise.
“You’ve taken on a squire, Julien?” Kinley turned to follow Rowlen’s gaze. “When did this come about?”
“It wasn’t all that long after I met your sister,” he said, and I almost ruined the ruse by laughing aloud, but caught myself just in time. “Knights de Whittier, may I present Squire Rozen de Morphys, late of Veetri?”
I made a deep bow and Rowlen let out a breath that held the tiniest trace of a laugh. I squinted at him through my spectacles and lowered my voice, thickening my accent to sound as much like a Veetrish boy as I could.
“Is the air too thick for you in the south, Sir Rowlen, that you should need to breathe with such effort?”
Kinley’s eyebrows lifted. “Quite a tongue on the lad, Julien.”
“Mmm. Yes.” Julien rubbed his beard and walked toward me. “I suppose I shall have to find a way to conquer that tendency, although his quick wit is a welcome diversion when we’re on the trail. You will likely come to appreciate it over the next few weeks, Kinley.”
“Surely you don’t mean to take an untried squire with us, Julien? Such an undertaking would be foolish!” He shot a quick glance my way. “No offense, lad, but your inexperience could put the princess at great risk.”
“Oh, you might be surprised at how useful Rozen is in protecting the princess,” Julien said. “And the two of them do get on quite well. You can, of course, consult Princess Rynnaia on the matter, but I’m fairly certain she’ll insist that Rozen accompany us.”
I could barely control my expression. The sport Julien was having at Kinley’s expense was entirely too entertaining.
“Kinley,” Lewys said slowly, his eyes on Rowlen’s grin. “I think we’re missing something. Something important.”
Rowlen chose that moment to let loose a guffaw.
Lewys and Kinley gaped at him.
With a sigh, I removed my spectacles and spoke in my normal voice. “Close your mouths, boys, before you choke on a fly.”
Lewys spun back around. “Ro-rose?”
“No, actually.” Even though no one was within earshot, I lowered my voice. My disguise was effective, but to remain so on the journey ahead it had to stay a secret. “My name is Rynnaia.” I slid the spectacles back on.
A smile gleamed in Lewys’s eyes and a moment later his shoulders shook with laughter, but my attention was suddenly caught by movement just beyond Julien’s shoulder. When I glanced toward it, a murky shade of red swam within my mind.
It was an emotion, a color, with which I had never before come in contact. I couldn’t identify the meaning, but something about the odd texture the color took on just as it dissipated chilled me. Had someone been listening? But surely no one within the palace gates would wish me or my friends harm.
Unless whoever had used the ebonswarth powder on Sir Kile was still within the palace gates.
Julien frowned and stepped closer to me. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I thought I saw something. Someone, I mean. But they’re gone now.”
“Where?” Kinley’s voice was hard, but quiet.
I nodded to the small tack building to the righ
t of the paddock. “I think someone may have heard us.”
Kinley and Julien exchanged a look and a nod.
“Lewys and I will go check it out,” Kinley said.
“I’ll guard the Ryn,” Julien replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Julien decided we should find the King and inform him of the possible breach. I sought him with my mind and found him still in the gardens, on a marble-railed terrace overlooking the sea. The remaining four of us headed his direction.
My father had not acknowledged my brief touch to his thoughts when I’d sought him, neither did he notice our approach, which caused me a moment’s pause. He appeared pensive, yet troubled. With a hand to Julien’s arm and a quick word, I decided to approach my father alone, but I knew my friends would remain close.
His gaze rested cloudily in the distance across the sea and I couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts were on my mother. Perhaps he was speaking with her, even now. I hated to interrupt if that were the case. But being that she was my mother, I knew she would understand.
I moved to a spot along the rail, only a few feet away from where he stood, and waited for him to notice me.
It didn’t take long.
“Are you lost, lad?”
I blinked. Oh! He’d never seen me in my disguise!
“Rynnaia?” His eyes widened before a satisfied smile overtook his expression of surprise. He laughed. “Well done.”
It was then that my mother’s sweet laughter touched my mind. The King’s gaze flew out to sea. He had heard it, too. But just as quickly as it came, it faded away.
“I thought she’d fallen asleep.” The King shook his head, turned, and placed his finger under my chin, lifting my face. He inspected my disguise. “Well done, indeed.”
“You were speaking with Mother, weren’t you?” I cringed. “I interrupted. I’m sorry.”
“I was, but we had finished. In fact, I was fairly certain she had fallen asleep. Either I was wrong,” he said, “or she was awake just enough to sense your approach as I was saying good-bye.” His smile fell. “You shouldn’t be about without a guard.”
“I’m not.” I turned and gestured. Erielle twinkled her fingers at him. Rowlen grinned and nodded his head in an abbreviated bow. Julien’s smile was thinner and his posture was much less relaxed.
My guard, indeed. Every muscle in Julien’s body was taut and ready to spring into action.
“There may be a . . . complication,” I said, motioning them forward. “With my disguise,” I added.
Julien filled him in.
My father’s frown grew more pronounced with every word. “Your disguise is exceptional,” he said. “But for it to work it must be known to very few.” He clasped his hands behind his back, paced a few steps away, and back again.
“Julien, come with me to my chambers.” He paused, glancing quickly at me before he returned his gaze to Julien. “Julien, I’d like a private word. Rowlen, watch for Kinley and Lewys’s return and send them to me at once. Erielle, I trust you are armed?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Accompany Rynnaia back to your family’s wing. Rynnaia?” To everyone else he issued an order. To me, a question. “If there’s nowhere else you need to be, would you stay in the Regent of Mynissbyr’s rooms until I send for you?”
I nodded. “Of course
His brow furrowed. “On second thought, Julien and I will see you to the Regent’s suite before going to mine.”
As we followed Julien from the gardens, I glanced at Erielle. “How armed are you, exactly?”
“From toes to teeth,” she said. “Or as near as possible, in any case.”
I examined her from top to bottom. She wore a long-sleeved gown that matched the color of the violets dotting the grass along the path, but no belt, no sword.
Yet, I reminded myself, Erielle had slept in a ball gown the night Kile was killed, and from it had drawn a dagger when she was called upon to defend me. The way she spoke now made it sound as if she had multiple weapons at her disposal, though I could not identify a single one on her person.
She laughed at my confusion. “Trust me.”
After assuring himself that Julien’s family’s chambers were secure, my father and Julien left us. At my request, Erielle was only too glad to show me the collection of thin daggers—and even a short sword!—she had hidden up her sleeves, down the front of her bodice, and within hidden pockets of her gown.
“Besides the other night, have you ever had to use any of them?” I gestured to the collection of eight, yes eight, weapons she had laid out on my bed as she put them back into their proper places.
“Once or twice,” she said. “Occasionally at a ball there are men who are a little too affectionate.” She arched one brow and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “But I’ve never had to threaten the same man twice.”
For as young as she was and as easily as she masqueraded as a boy, Erielle was a beauty. At the two balls we’d both attended at Holiday Palace, I’d noticed that she was also quite popular as a dancing partner. I was sure she’d had plenty of opportunities to fend off unwanted advances.
She shrugged and slid a dagger only as wide and long as my little finger into a hidden leather sheaf in her sleeve. “All my gowns are tailored this way.”
It was a comfort to me, who knew little of weaponry other than how to mark the dagger, that at least the rest of our party on this quest would be well-equipped.
It wasn’t until early evening that my father sent for me. I barely had time to divest myself of the squire’s clothes and regain my femininity before we had to go to the dining hall.
Many of the guests who had attended the ball reappeared at table that night and a few of the nobles made sport of each other by steadily increasing the verbosity of their toasts. Even though my father assured me this was a normal occurrence in such company, and considered something of a game, I lost my appetite after the sixth mention of my “graceful, iconic beauty.”
“And may your future and the hope of fair E’veria be as bright as the blue of your eyes and as sure as the flame of your hair.”
Everyone raised their goblets and drank. When the young lord, whose name I could not remember, sat down, a hint of murky red touched my thoughts. At first, I thought it came from him, but when I focused my thoughts, I found his own to be as clear and loyal as any I’d seen.
I took my time scanning the faces and thoughts around him, but could find no trace of the strange deception that had so briefly touched my mind, but that exactly matched what I had sensed by the paddock earlier.
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud until Julien responded to my question. And all at once, I knew the answer. “Tarlo de Veir.”
I closed my eyes, pictured his face, and whispered his name. “Tarlo.”
He was moving swiftly, already out of the castle. He looked over his shoulder, as if sensing he was being followed. Suddenly he jolted. Stopped. He met my eyes and tilted his head. “Your Highness?”
I gasped. How could I have forgotten that even non-Andoven people could see me when I spoke to them over a distance? I’d nearly caused Uncle Drinius to think he was losing his mind the first time I’d spoken to him in the cell in Dwons.
In my shock, the connection was broken, but I had seen enough.
“He knows about my disguise,” I whispered.
I opened my eyes and looked at my father, but his eyes were on Julien. He nodded, the confirmation of a wordless command. Julien returned the nod and rose.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he said. “There are some matters to which I must attend with my brother on behalf of Mynissbyr.”
“Of course,” my father said.
Gerrias was a bit down the table, but he noted the exchange and rose. “Your Majesty,” he said. “Your Highness.”
My father nodded, excusing them from table as if he didn’t k
now that Gladiel’s sons were about to go after Tarlo de Veir.
Be careful, I whispered into Julien’s thoughts. He’s already left the palace.
His only answer was a tight smile and a nod.
Another chair scooted back, and yet another young nobleman arose and lifted his glass my direction. It was all I could do to contain my groan.
By the time the final course was served, my smile was frozen near to the point of pain and I only vaguely listened to the toasts. Following the cues of those around me, I lifted my goblet at the appropriate times and pushed the food around on my plate between speakers, but my thoughts were on Julien and Gerrias and their pursuit of Tarlo de Veir. Every time I thought I had a moment to contact Julien and check their progress, however, someone new would demand my attention.
The dinner lasted until late into the night, but Julien and Gerrias did not return. Eventually the toasting tapered off and my father declared the meal finished.
As my father escorted me to my chamber, exhaustion pulled at both my mind and my body. But anxiety over the nefarious purposes Tarlo’s behavior might explain, combined with the anticipation of the adventure and danger the coming quest would hold, kept rest far from my mind.
After I readied for bed, I contacted Julien, anxious to know how their search was progressing. Unfortunately, he and Gerrias had not yet located the man. By the time it occurred to me that I might use my Andoven abilities to find the would-be traitor, Tarlo’s thoughts were jumbled with drink, and since I knew so little of the area’s landmarks, I was of no help in the search. It was a long night, and although I was anxious to seek the Remedy, I didn’t welcome the sun as heartily as might be expected.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The first half of the day came and went without so much as a “good morning” to be heard within the palace.
My father had taken Kinley’s suggestion that our group split up on the first leg of our journey, and to that end, Erielle, Risson, Edru, and Dyfnel had already departed when I arose. Since Erielle would be traveling ahead, my father had handpicked two women from among the palace staff to serve as lady’s maids for me until I left his company. After, they would perform the same duty for Vayle as she traveled in my stead toward Salderyn. It was they who awaited me when I awoke, and their care of me was skilled but so much more reserved than Erielle’s. They were pleasant enough, if a bit nervous, as I supervised the final packing of the gowns that would precede my arrival at Castle Rynwyk in Salderyn.
