A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Ellen Ross

  “Most gracious queen,” Lukas said, bowing, not in the least bit contrite or apologetic. “Please forgive me. No one told me you had arrived already.” An untruth, Leisha sensed. He was not expecting her at all.

  “Prince Lukas, I’m surprised to find you here in Tahaerin. Unannounced.” She drew out each syllable of the last word.

  He had the good grace to feign an uncomfortable expression. “I must apologize. When the invitation came, I was hunting in the mountains, and it took the herald a great deal of time to reach my camp. I was afraid I would miss all the best events if I waited for my request to reach you. Of course, I sent it immediately. My man is most likely resting in Lida as we speak.”

  Liar, she thought, but at least an entertaining one. His thoughts said he expected to sneak over the border and return home without her knowing. “I’ll be sure to look for one when I return home, then.”

  “He’ll be grateful for any hospitality you extend to him.”

  “I’m sure,” she drawled.

  Lukas smiled and looked over his shoulder at the bride and groom and then said, “Your Highness, I believe my seat is next to yours. If you don’t mind?”

  “Of course,” Leisha said and gestured at the chair to her right.

  The prince walked onto the dais and sat down, keeping two servants behind him.

  Several seats down the table, Lovek looked relieved and Leisha realized he knew Lukas intended to visit, but he could not rescind the invitation once she accepted. So he said nothing to either one and hoped she would not make a scene at a wedding. She vowed to stay here even longer and impoverish him for his games.

  For a time, Lukas spoke to the woman on his right. Brigitta and Lorant took their seats next to her father and Lovek nodded for the servants to begin serving the food. Lukas turned back to her. “Well, we should clear the air between us, shouldn’t we?”

  “You mean your gross breach of protocol for violating my borders?” Plates appeared before her, piled with quail and vegetables. She took a fork and ate several small bites. The others around her began eating, as well.

  Lukas laughed. “No, no. I mean, we were both hostages. We share that experience. I’m dying to know what it was like for you.”

  His casual way of speaking to her threw Leisha off her stride. Since returning to Lida, she had no one but vassals and servants to speak to and she still preferred to hold most at arm’s length. Now she struggled to regain her footing. “Your father took excellent care of me,” she said, uncomfortable with small talk.

  “That’s a really diplomatic-sounding way of saying he was a shit to you, isn’t it? I’ve only known him for a few years and I don’t get the sense that he’s a particularly friendly fellow.”

  “How old were you when you were sent to Tahaerin?” Leisha asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from Andrzej. She had few good things to say about him. But against her better judgment she felt her curiosity with Lukas grow. No one else could understand her childhood in Embriel as well as he could.

  “I was six, I think. You were younger, though, weren’t you? I would love to hear about it sometime. My father is a different sort of bird. I don’t know anything about him even though I’ve been back in Embriel for five years or so.”

  “I don’t remember Andrzej making time for any of the children, me included. He and I sparred often enough,” she said and reached for her wine glass. A servant appeared to refill it before she set it back down.

  Lukas threw his head back, laughing. “Sparred. He describes your arguments in slightly stronger terms. But it’s very diplomatic of you.”

  Servants cleared the quail and set the next course of venison and bread out. Everyone watched for Leisha to begin eating. Embriel did not have a similar custom and she found the Tahaerin one odd, but tonight, annoying Lovek and his guests amused her. Without her here, everyone would eat as they pleased. However, if she chose to push this course away, everyone else would have to wait as the servants brought out the next. She decided to sample the venison instead of being petty. The dinner guests tucked in as soon as she took her first bite.

  “How was your upbringing in Tahaerin?” Leisha asked, more curious about her parents than anything. “Did you enjoy Lida?”

  “Lida? No, I was only there a few times. Your father sent me to live with Lorant and his family since they had children my age to play with. I grew up in Adrojan. My upbringing was very pleasant. His parents treated me like a son.”

  “Ah, well that was different, then.” Leisha heard an unexpected trace of jealousy in her voice.

  Before the next course appeared, Lovek stood. “Your Majesty, my family is honored you decided to attend this wedding. And in honor of your presence here I’m pleased to announce I’ve decided to host a traditional Masked Week of celebrations.” The crowd gasped and then burst into cheerful applause.

  “Oh, now that’s exciting and does make this a rather more interesting wedding,” Lukas whispered in her ear. Symon shifted, uncomfortable with the prince’s proximity to her.

  Lovek continued, “For those of you not familiar with this tradition, it dates back over a century. A Masked Week is really three events. The ball will be held in three nights here in the castle. The play will also be in the castle two days after the ball. Then, the Tumult will occur three more days after that. Servants here are available to help you create masks to match your clothing. Don’t forget. Masks are required for all three events.”

  Again, the nobles filled the hall with applause. Lovek waved and servants once more rushed in to clear plates and deposit the next round of dishes. This time Leisha caught sight of Eli acting as a server. He nodded at her and she returned the gesture, assuring him all was well.

  After several more courses and a performance of a troupe of acrobats, Leisha excused herself. Symon pulled her chair back.

  “My lady, it was a pleasure sitting next to you tonight,” Lukas said as he rose with her, looking a bit more contrite this time. “Again, I’m sorry for not getting a messenger to you about my coming. It was a gross breach of etiquette. I hope we have more chances to talk.”

  “I’m sure we will, Prince Lukas. I enjoyed it as well.”

  After they had left the hall, Symon muttered, “A bit more than a breach.”

  “Indeed,” Leisha said, making a face. “I’m sure his father encouraged it. As long as he didn’t bring an army, I won’t press the matter, I suppose. What do I need to know about the events coming up?”

  “They are unique to Otokar, at least when and how they occur,” Symon said, trying hard to remember important details. “The ball is obvious. The play is more complicated. It’s usually a performance where the audience is invited to participate. The week ends with the Tumult. Guards will close down the entire town for the night and nobles and guests are allowed to roam the streets. I believe they set up stalls and some businesses are opened, but all of the sellers are members of the household.

  “The masks create a sense of anonymity to allow the guests to relax and enjoy the events. They are not to be removed. If you plan on attending, we need to speak to your maids and set them to work on masks. You’ll need some different ones, my lady.”

  “I’ll have to think about it, Symon,” Leisha said, already considering. Growing up, Andrzej kept her away from social events so she could not upset his guests. Parties, where she would be expected to mingle and socialize, were unfamiliar, and she did not know how to dance. But after coming all this way and forcing her household on Lovek, she should attend.

  Masked

  The next morning, after wrestling with her decision, Leisha announced to her women that she would attend the Masked Week. They squealed in delight and set about choosing her outfits. Rarely had the chance to pick out dresses caused so much excitement in her maids. Within an hour, they pulled out twelve different dresses for her to choose from. She sent three of them into town to buy what they needed to fashion her masks.

  At midmorning, a maid answered a knock
at the door to her apartments and announced a messenger. He carried a folded piece of paper sealed with Embriel’s wax mark. “Your Highness, Prince Lukas sends his greetings and this. If it pleases you, I can wait for your response.”

  Leisha cracked the seal and read an invitation to escort her to the ball in three days. She stared at it, unsure how to respond. People did not ask to attend events with her. “Please return in an hour and I’ll have an answer for the prince,” she managed. The messenger bowed and withdrew, leaving Leisha more unsettled.

  This was unknown territory for her, she knew. She did not attend events—she presided over them. More importantly, people did not ask to escort her because everyone around her were her subjects, people she ruled over. Lukas’s rank equaled hers and gave him the freedom to interact with her in different ways. The novelty of this interaction unsettled her because it was unusual. She had not spoken to anyone of equal rank since leaving Embriel, and now the royal line in Tahaerin ended with her. There were no royal siblings or close cousins to visit. She admitted to herself she found it refreshing to talk to someone who was not a servant or vassal of hers.

  Leisha stopped and thought about it before finding a quill and sheet of paper. Penning a quick note, she let Lukas know she would allow him to escort her. When the messenger returned an hour later, she handed him the folded page closed with her hawk and sword seal. This meant paying attention to the clothes the maids selected. If they were going to be seen together, she must outshine the Embriel prince.

  All afternoon her maids brought out slippers and jewelry that matched her dresses. Those sent to buy materials in town returned with sacks bursting with cloth, feathers, and other bits. For the ball, she selected a dark blue overdress made from silk. Diamonds and pearls covered the cream damask forepart showing from the opening in the overskirt. Leisha watched one young maid, Danica, as she bent over a table constructing her mask from scratch, fascinated by this act of creation.

  The girl started by selecting three sheets of pressed paper with the holes for eyes already cut out. Placing them on top of one another, she took up a large gauge needle and stitched them together. Next, she picked up a matching blue silk swatch to cover the outside of the mask. The inside she lined with soft cotton fabric, dyed black. Danica looked very pleased as she noticed Leisha taking such interest in her sewing and showed her all the steps.

  Once she sewed the pieces together, she retrieved a box from one of the trunks in the other room. She showed Leisha it contained smaller ceramic vessels filled with jewels set in bezels. “I can use these to embroider a pattern on the front of the mask to match the front of your dress, Your Grace.”

  “You’re very talented, Danica. These are so very small,” Leisha said.

  “That’s why I do this work for you. I still have good eyes and steady hands.” She smiled, delighted.

  When she finished the first mask, it was a work of art with embroidered swirls in dancing patterns of jewels. Danica stitched dark, short feathers from a bird Leisha could not identify around the sides. They swept out and up, changing the shape of the mask. Finally, she attached the black silk ribbon to each side the wearer would use to tie the mask on.

  “This is amazing. If I hadn’t seen you make this with my own eyes, I would think you’d conjured it by magic.” Leisha paused, before saying, “I’m going to tell Symon to set aside a dowry for you, for when you’re ready to marry and leave me.”

  The young woman flushed and stammered a thank you. “My lady, I enjoy my job and Symon makes sure we’re all well cared for. But thank you. Thank you.”

  Leisha left, awed and troubled. She had never known the amount of time and work that went into making her look like a queen. So wrapped up in her own struggles and problems, what else did she fail to notice?

  ***

  Exhausted from a week on the road, Zaraki promised Capar he would find them both a fine inn and stable to rest at tonight. But first, he needed to meet with Jan again and assure himself Leisha was still safe. He found the tavern after asking for directions and thanked whatever gods watched over him when it did not look as run down as the last one. At least here, he could eat a decent meal.

  Always punctual, Jan sat at a table in a back corner, tucking into a plate of food. This early in the afternoon there were few patrons, and none of them aroused any suspicions. “I ordered you the same, sir,” he said as soon as he saw Zaraki heading over.

  “You’re amazing, Jan. Thank you. I’m exhausted. How are things here?” Relieved to be out of the saddle, Zaraki collapsed into the seat across from the other man.

  “Good, sir, good. We’ve heard nothing of concern. Lord Lovek seems to have cleaned up the town ahead of all his guests arriving. We had trouble finding any miscreants to beat information out of.” Jan laughed and sopped up his meal with his bread.

  A barmaid appeared with a bread trencher full of beef stew. It smelled amazing and tasted even better after a week of stale bread and dried meat. Zaraki smiled at how used to fine food he had become over all these years.

  “There’s one thing, sir,” Jan said after finishing his own meal. “Lovek is planning on hosting a Masked Week. I believe the queen is considering attending all of the events.”

  Zaraki stopped eating, surprise evident on his face. In all her years in Lida, Leisha never once hosted or attended anything involving dancing. “Is she? I assume it’s the traditional three?”

  “Aye, sir. Ball, play and the Tumult.”

  “Well, good for her then. I hear they are quite enjoyable. Are you satisfied she’s safe?”

  “Yes. Everything seems to be in order. The ball will be tonight.”

  “All right, then keep things the same for the ball and the play. For the Tumult, follow discreetly. She deserves some independence. I’ll be back in a week or so.”

  Instead of heading out, Zaraki took Capar and rode to the castle. He kept busy talking to Eli and Symon, without seeing Leisha, all afternoon. When servants began lighting sconces in the hallways, he made his way down to the second floor of the castle and wandered until he found a smaller door, set into an interior wall.

  Stepping inside, Zaraki stood in the oriel window overlooking the Hall. Just like in Branik, an intricately carved wooden screen prevented those below from seeing him. Once, women would have crowded inside to watch events they were barred from, acrobatic displays and bawdy plays. Now he stood, uncomfortable, knowing he should leave. But instead he waited to see Leisha, to see her dance, to share a first with her. He was here to torture his heart, even though he had promised himself he would stop.

  The musicians had the room to themselves as they set up on the newly erected stage. Zaraki shifted as they tuned their instruments, nervous and unsettled. When the steward opened the door and the first nobles poured through in pairs, he saw her. He could not mistake her, even from this distance and even behind a glittering blue mask. Her long, black hair reflected the lights of hundreds of candles and he saw how her maids had woven it through with sapphires. Even with the mask, she shone, and he loved her. Even now, even after all these years.

  He leaned closer to the carved screen. A tall man escorted her, and Zaraki struggled to guess who wore the mask. His head snapped up. No. He should not be here and he knew it. This breached her trust, her privacy. Once again, he understood Cezar’s prohibitions on becoming too involved with one’s employer. He had no right to spy on her.

  Zaraki stepped back and opened the tiny door, ashamed. Heart pounding, he rushed to grab his things and collect Capar from the stables. They were on the road again in no time.

  ***

  Together, Leisha and Lukas glided into the hall. For the sake of anonymity, all the tables and chairs looked identical tonight. Everyone ate and drank the same things and all the guests mingled with one another. Leisha found herself charmed with the chance to be just one more noblewoman. Even though she could see some of the other guests recognized her, they did their best to treat her the same as everyone else.
/>
  After claiming two chairs and two glasses of wine for them, Lukas asked, “Would you like to dance?”

  “I’ve never done it,” Leisha admitted. Sitting here now, she did not want to dance. She did not want her people to see their queen struggle and fail at something. Her public persona did not cavort but stayed aloof and above such things.

  Frowning, Lukas said, “That makes no sense. My father holds dances all the time. Didn’t he when you were growing up there?”

  “Oh yes,” she said. “There were always parties being held.”

  Lukas managed to look embarrassed under his mask. “Ah, he really was a shit to you.”

  She waved her hand. In truth, Andrzej feared she would embarrass him and banished her from all social gatherings before she turned six or seven. “He had a duty to protect me, nothing more.”

  “I’ll teach you, then,” the prince said, delighting in the prospect. “We have masks, so no one will know who is fumbling. Here, drink your wine and by the time the dancing starts we’ll be ready.” He tossed back what remained in his glass.

  Leisha started to protest but realized she had no good reason not to try. It seemed silly to put on this lovely dress and then just sit in it. But, despite Lukas’s encouragement, she sipped at her wine because she did not like the way too much alcohol made her feel out of control.

  When the musicians signaled the dancing would begin with a short trill of notes from the piper, couples stood and took to the floor. Lukas offered his hand and a deep bow. “My lady, shall we?”

  “I’m going to be terrible,” Leisha said, wanting to back out now. But Lukas refused to take the hint. He stood with his hand outstretched, waiting for her and grinning. People did not encourage her to try new things. They accepted when she declined. Yet here, he refused to take no for an answer. Resigned and a little curious, she took his hand.