“He’s just teasing,” Peter replied as he led her to her seat. “He probably thinks your frown is funny. Or something.”
That meal was the last they saw of Dain that year. Lora found that she missed the winking. She started drawing eyes in her letters to him. She was no artist, but it was obvious what they were. She let Dain ask what the eyes were four times before she told him, and she kept drawing them when he started telling her to stop. She liked that they had a joke together.
The winter holidays were fairly monotonous. Lora turned fourteen with no fanfare. All of her friends were in their homes far away, and Regan was busy in the palace as always. Genea had gone to the country to visit her mother’s family. The other students who stayed during the holidays did not speak to her. The cold and sleet kept her inside and out of the practice yards. In her desperation to move around, she started to practice her dances.
If Master Franklin found it odd that she danced alone in the etiquette room while he marked the floor for some unknown purpose, he did not say so. He only complained when she danced too close to where he was working. He did not comment on her progress.
Toward the end of the holiday, Master Franklin relented after Lora’s incessant pestering and taught her a new dance. She was practicing in the etiquette room when she heard laughter coming from the doorway. Her steps faltered and she blushed.
“Bravo, Miss Lorana,” Regan announced as he crossed the room. He was enthusiastically clapping until Lora punched him in the arm. “Ow!” he cried.
Lora crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You can’t be surprised that I did that. I don’t care if I just assaulted a royal person. That was very rude, your highness.”
Regan grinned. “I know I can always count on you not to sugar coat anything,” he told her as he straightened his vest. “So what’s with the dancing? Are you really that bored?”
“Yes, if you must know, I really am that bored.”
The prince’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been here by yourself. I shouldn’t tease. May I join you?” He held out his hand. “I didn’t know you knew this one. Master Franklin didn’t cover it in the autumn.”
Lora tentatively took his hand and settled into his arms. “I got tired of the ones I knew. I kept asking him what the drawings on the floor were for, and he finally told me they were for this dance. I made him teach me. He said it was for etiquette in the spring. What is it?”
“It’s an old formal dance,” Regan explained as he began the steps. “We use it for official events. You know, coronations and royal weddings and the like. I’m told it dates from before Ydris was independent. When we were just a territory in Erasteen.”
“So it’s Erastinian then,” she replied. “It doesn’t seem like it. It doesn’t seem Ydrisan either. I guess that makes sense. In a weird way.” They were quiet for the remainder of the dance. Lora was happy that she only stepped on his feet twice.
Regan bowed and took Lora’s arm to lead her out of the etiquette room. “It’s good to be back,” he said. “You have no idea how dull and how maddening it is to make the decisions that run Ydris.”
Lora raised her eyebrows. “Nope, I don’t,” she agreed. “And I’m glad I never will.”
“You’ll probably know something like it though,” he told her as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. When she gave him a confused look, he continued, “When you marry. Obviously it will be to a lord’s son, so you’ll have to participate in the local governance.”
“No lord’s son will marry me,” Lora shot back at him. “And certainly not an heir. You forget where I come from, Regan.” She sighed and shook her head. “Your highness.”
He was quiet for a while. “I think you underestimate what being a swordwielder does to your status, Miss Lorana. You may be of low birth, but a swordwielder is rare. Your husband would be able to use you for any political purpose, which is invaluable. Well, any purpose as long as it doesn’t conflict with the king’s agenda.”
Lora ground her teeth. She tried to pull away from Regan when they got to the swordsplayers’ dormitories, but he held fast. “I’d rather marry a commoner than be used in such a way,” she declared. “It’s bad enough that a husband can dictate so much of his wife’s life, but to take her powers and skills?” She made a noise of exasperation, finally wrenched her arm away from him, and stormed inside.
Regan unwisely followed her. “You? Marry a commoner?” The very idea seemed to offend him. “That’s preposterous.”
She rolled her eyes and bit back a retort. “Well—“ She stopped and walked over to her open trunk. “I never leave this open.” She scanned the area and tears filled her eyes. Her lovely rose gown was in shreds. She picked up the pieces, tucked them into her arms, let out a sob, and ran from the room.
This time, Regan did not follow.
CHAPTER 14
Lora ran out of the Academy, knowing she was breaking all kinds of rules. She didn’t care. She knew it was fruitless, but she had to try. She ran all the way to Mistress Bethany’s to see if anything could be done.
“Why Miss Lorana!” Mistress Bethany’s smile faded when she took in Lora’s tear-stained face and red eyes. “Oh my,” she said as she took the pieces of fabric. “What happened?” When Lora shook her head, the tailor’s frown deepened. “Well, let’s take it to my table. I’ll see what I can do.”
The dress was in four pieces. It appeared that a knife or a pair of scissors had been used to make holes and the fabric had been ripped apart afterward. The seams looked to have been deliberately avoided.
“Can you fix it?” Lora’s voice was small.
Mistress Bethany took a long look at what remained of the dress. “I will do what I can,” she said after a moment. “Have you need of anything else?” She took the rest of the young woman in. “You haven’t grown any, but you’re looking threadbare.”
Lora looked at the ground and shrugged. “My cousin has not written to me in months,” she admitted.
“I see,” Bethany said. “Well, I will help you if it is in my power to do so, young miss. You’d better get back before you’re missed. I’ll send this over to you when it’s finished.”
“Thank you.” She turned and left. Lora walked very slowly back to the Academy, went straight to her bed in the girl’s dormitory, and lay down. It was midafternoon when she got there, and she did not get up for dinner.
She heard footsteps behind her and closed her eyes. “Where did you take it?” Regan asked.
“Bethany’s,” she replied. “It’s the only place I’ve ever been outside the Academy. I wouldn’t know where else to go.” She took a deep breath. “This happened while we were dancing. Were you distracting me on purpose so that someone could do this?”
Regan sucked in his breath. “What? No! You can’t possibly think that,” he said as he turned her toward him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were earnest. His hair flopped down, and he let go of her to push it back. “You are my friend. I would never do that. I can’t believe you would think that.”
Lora sat up in a flash. “I don’t know what to think!” she hissed. “All I know is that it’s very likely I will have one fewer item of clothing to my name. I rely on my cousins for everything, and I haven’t heard from either of them since classes began in the fall. I have written six letters between the two of them. You know my situation—everyone does! Look at me! It’s obvious everything they do they do because they feel they have to. Even though these dresses are nicer than anything I had back home, they remind me daily that I am so far beneath everyone here…” She took a deep breath and looked the prince right in the eye. “Get out! Just get out!”
His eyes widened in surprise. It’s quite possible no one had ever spoken to him that way before, but he turned and left without another word. Lora’s face crumpled, she turned, fell onto the bed, and just let the sobs come.
When classes began again a couple of days later, Lora couldn’t even get excited about the fact that she was only tw
o assignments behind the rest of her class in literature. Mistress Flora beamed at her as she handed over the novel, but Lora could not smile back. At the end of class, she kept her behind.
“I thought you’d be pleased at the progress you’ve made,” her teacher told her as she sat behind her desk. “I can only assume that something is wrong. What’s happened? Is it your cousins? Your family?”
Was it? Lora thought. She shook her head. “No, not really,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and stared at the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Mistress Flora pursed her lips. “Can you talk to your friends? To one of the other teachers? I know you and Lord Cedric have gotten close. He’s spoken of your discourse on a number of occasions. Says you bring a fresh eye to the situations you discuss.”
“No, I can’t talk to him about this.” Lora knew she was being stubborn. She knew Mistress Flora was a younger daughter of one of the border lords, so she would think her despair over losing her dress frivolous. She would not understand what it was like to have her whole life dependent on people who would as soon forget her. “I can’t talk to my friends either.” She had spoken to no one since she had shouted at Regan. It had made things awkward in the dorms and at meals. Princess Sylvane looked so smug about it. Lora knew she had to have been behind it.
“I’m sorry that you think so,” Mistress Flora said. “They’d be poor friends if that were true. “ She took a deep breath. “You’d better hurry along. Mistress Diane won’t forgive you easily if you’re much later. I will speak to her, but don’t dawdle.”
Lora nodded, gave a small curtsy, and hurried from the room. She slid into her seat as Mistress Diane was introducing a couple of new students in their age group who’d come to the Academy. The Academy was interesting in that people came at nearly any age to learn, and many left before their training was fully completed. It wasn’t necessary for a young noble to be a fully trained swordsplayer to run his lands or serve in her father’s guard. Wielders tended to arrive earlier and stay longer, but that was not always the case.
The rest of the morning flew by in a blur. Lora barely tasted her lunch and she rushed to the dorms so she could change without feeling awkward in front of Catty. She was unbuttoning the wine colored dress when she noticed a parcel on her bed. She picked it up warily, as she could not trust that it wasn’t from or tampered with by Sylvane. She untied the string holding it closed, and opened up the stuff brown paper. Her breath caught when she saw what was inside.
Before she took out the contents, she read the accompanying note:
Miss Lorana,
I had a note from your cousin, Lady Tiana, the day after we last spoke. She bade me to supply you with some new garments for the spring and included instruction that you were to have replacements whenever you need. Evidently, she did not want you waiting for her to appear all the while walking about wearing dilapidated dresses. I took the liberty of using your old measurements when I had these made. Have them sent back if they do not fit.
Mistress Bethany
Lora tossed the note aside and lifted her new dresses out. Four everyday dresses in burgundy, emerald green, navy blue, and a deep purple in soft fabric were laid out on her bed. Her hands trembled as she took out the dinner dress. It was a pale blue gown with layers of shimmery fabric pattered with delicate embroidery. It was as nice as anything any of the other girls wore. All of the dresses were.
“It’s a pretty dress,” Catty said from beside her.
She jumped. “You startled me,” Lora said. “I didn’t know you’d come in.”
Catty snorted. “Obviously.” She moved in closer to inspect Lora’s new clothes. “So Lady Tiana finally came through. I’m glad. It’s so scandalous the way she dresses you.” She pressed a lock into her friend’s hand. “Regan told me what happened,” she said. “I don’t want it to happen again. You should be able to lock up your things.”
Lora turned and crushed her friend in a hug. “Thank you,” she said, Catty’s hair muffling her voice. She pulled away and began to get dressed. “And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you all. I just felt so wretched. And I yelled at Regan. I’m sure he’ll never forgive me. The way I spoke, I’m lucky I wasn’t whipped or locked in the dungeon.”
“He told us,” Catty laughed. “He said he deserved it. He wouldn’t come clean about what you were arguing about though.”
Pulling her tunic over her head, Lora raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t?” When Catty shook her head, Lora frowned. “I don’t know why not. I was ranting about my cousins. They’ve been ignoring me. I got a little carried away about it.”
“Well, he doesn’t seem ruffled by it.” She tossed her nut brown braid over her shoulder and straightened her tunic. “Anyway, we should get going. I heard we start fighting on horseback today. It might just be a rumor though.” She made a face. “Or not. The class above us are supposedly jousting today.”
“Jousting? Isn’t that kind of a waste of time?”
Catty nodded. “It kind of is. No one really fights like that except when the cavalry charges at the beginning of a battle, but it’s exciting. There are always games in Glimmen and the larger cities, like Azure Shores. Next year, when we can go into the city, maybe we’ll see one.” She smiled. “Perhaps one of the contestants will take your ribbon as a favor and wear it in the tournament.” She pretended to swoon and laughed as she stumbled.
CHAPTER 15
It turned out, Catty was wrong. They were learning a new skill on horseback though—riding with no hands, which was the first step in being able to fight with swords or another weapon while on horseback. Plenty of people fell. Sylvane fell three times. Lora couldn’t laugh too hard at her though, as she fell twice.
In unarmed combat, Peter landed a blow to Lora’s face that had her nose gushing blood. He was mortified, especially as Master Karl seemed impressed he’d landed such a blow and irritated that Lora had let her defenses down. He waved at them, indicating they should carry on with their sparring, and told Lora she could see to her nose at dinner. He handed her a pile of snow and walked away.
Weapons was no better. While Lora was passable at throwing knives, the weight and heft of Shaadi throwing stars felt unnatural to her. She counted herself lucky to hit the target at all and breathed a sigh of relief when she hit the outer ring a couple of times. Lord Sebastian, wincing when he saw the state of her nose, let Lora go a few moments early so that she could see the healers.
Lora was happy to see Genea when she got there. Her friend led her to a cot in a large room and had her sit. She gently sponged what was left of the blood off Lora’s face and giggled when she heard that Peter had done it. She sobered again when the healer appeared.
“Now Genea,” the healer began. “You know healing is essence wielding. You have to open yourself up to it, unlike the other elements where you grab for it. And you can’t just point and direct your power, you have to understand the anatomy and how it is disturbed by how the blow or illness are affecting it.”
The healer and Genea each placed a hand on either side of Lora’s nose. Genea’s face lit up as the healer did her work. Lora could sense that wielding was happening, but beyond that, she had no idea. All she knew was that healing hurt!
“I see you starting to understand,” the healer said with a smile. “Now,” her attention turned to Lora, “it was indeed broken. It is fixed. You will still have some bruising and swelling, but the worst is done.”
Lora frowned. “If you healed me, why do I still have bruising and swelling?”
The healer chuckled. “I could heal you the rest of the way, but it would be for your vanity only. A broken nose can be a liability in a battle. If your opponent knows you have a weakness, he or she can exploit it. A bruise is nothing. We healers also are fallible. We tire. It’s best to heal the big stuff and let nature take care of the rest.” She then shooed the girls away toward dinner.
Catty, Lora, and Genea bathed and quickly changed in their respective
dormitories and raced toward the dining hall. As they ran, Lora smiled at the memory of Lord Allistair telling her that ladies didn’t run. Of course, the ladies he knew weren’t Academy-trained. When they got there, they found their friends waiting outside. Dain was absent, of course, but a new boy stood with the others. He had a familiar face, but Lora couldn’t place his name. It was his shock of bright red hair that tickled at her memory.
“Good to see you out and about, Master Louis,” Catty said as she offered her hand. He took it and placed a quick kiss on the back of it. “You weren’t too good for us last year. Now that you’re able to leave the grounds, you can’t be bothered?”
“I’ve been able to leave the grounds for a year and it’s never stopped me from spending time with the group.” Regan frowned at Louis. Lora guessed the two were often at odds.
Louis bowed to Lora. “We haven’t been formally introduced,” he said as he straightened up. “Louis of High Hill, at your service. You must be Lorana, the other swordwielder.”
Recognition flooded Lora. She gave a small curtsy and gave him her hand, all too aware of her bitten down nails. “Will I see you in classes then if you’re calling yourself a swordwielder?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. They tell me I should, but… If you saw my skill with air, you’d understand.” Louis smiled and offered his arm. Lora took it and they followed Catty and Regan into the hall with Peter and Genea trailing behind them.
“Your dress suits you, Lora,” Peter told her as the group was settling into their usual table.
She flushed. “Thank you,” Lora replied. She busied herself with a roll and began furiously buttering it. “It’s new.”
“It looks like Sylvane is having apoplexy over there,” Catty gestured. “I wonder what’s gotten her so upset.”
“I wish I knew,” Lora put in. She knew it had to be her dress, and Sylvane’s reaction confirmed her suspicions that the princess had been behind her old dress’s destruction. Well, she certainly didn’t want to take advantage of Lord Allistair’s sudden generosity, but since she was able to replenish her wardrobe on an as needed basis, the threat of losing something wasn’t as dire.
Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1) Page 8
