Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1)

by Andrea Irving

  Lora had been considered a fair archer before she had come to Glimmen. There were others in Haven Dale who had been better, and she was glad to see that none of them were there to recognize her. She looked at the competitors with interest and was surprised to see more commoners in the contest than nobles. Of course, archery was not considered suitable to the nobility unless it was something they had taken up at the Academy. Although, she had heard Lord Allistair had a fair hand with the longbow. She looked a little more carefully and smiled when she picked him out. At least she’d have someone to cheer for.

  The distance of fifty paces was the longest and most boring by far. One hundred distances needed to be measured, and at that close range, they really all should have been in the center circle. There were many flushes of embarrassment when the second, and even the third circle from the center, were pierced. Lora was pleased to see Lord Allistair move on to seventy five paces and clapped heartily when his name was announced. The wind picked up a little bit for this round and she was excited to see how that would affect their aim. Wind was considered to be the great equalizer in archery. If one could correct for it, they were probably pretty good.

  Lord Allistair was twenty fourth, and so did not move on to the round at one hundred paces. Lora was disappointed, but not surprised. He had looked a little peeved at the wind, which generally meant he didn’t want to deal with it. She thought he let his attitude affect his abilities, and archery required too much mental discipline for him to overcome it.

  The rest of the contest went by quickly, and a young man from Peter’s home eventually took the win. Lora made a mental note to congratulate Peter on Lone Pine’s victory. She rose from her position in the stands and went down to congratulate Lord Allistair. She found him laughing with a couple of men near his own age and stood off to the side waiting for an opportunity to speak.

  The Lord of Haven Dale’s eyes brushed over her and he started. “Cousin?” he choked. “Is that you?”

  Lora smiled and bobbed a small curtsy of greeting that one cousin would make to another. “Cousin Allistair, what an unexpected pleasure to see you compete today!” she exclaimed. “You have done our home proud, I should say.”

  He bowed awkwardly. “Gentlemen, this is my cousin, Miss Lorana,” Allistair said. “Cousin, this is Master Charles of Windy Heath and Lord Thomas of Green Meadows. Charles is my lady wife’s brother.”

  “Very pleased to meet you both,” she told them.

  “Lorana is a swordwielder studying at the Academy,” Lord Allistair explained. “I am sponsoring her.” He turned to her and frowned. “You did not come to the tourney alone, I hope.”

  Lora shook her head. “No, Cousin. I came with a group of friends. I was the only one who wanted to watch archery, so we parted after the mêlée. I’m to meet them at the wrestling area in a moment. I just wanted to congratulate you on placing so well.”

  Allistair smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “You have changed, Cousin.”

  “It’s been over two years,” she laughed. “I certainly hope so!”

  “Get along with you now,” he gestured, suddenly impatient to get back to his friends. “Go find your friends and enjoy the rest of the day.”

  She curtsied and began to walk away. She stopped when she heard Lord Thomas quip, “A swordwielder! I’m jealous of the prestige she’ll bring to your family. Shame she’s so homely though.”

  Lora felt tears sting her eyes and she hurried away to find her friends. She knew she wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as her friends, but to hear it like that hurt. A lot. She wiped her eyes and cheeks when she saw her group standing together and took a deep breath. She knew it was too much to hope that no one would notice.

  And she was right. Regan and Catty frowned when they saw her. The prince opened his mouth to say something and Lora waved him off. “My cousin was twenty fourth in the archery contest,” she said, managing a shaky smile. “Peter, a commoner from your estate won. You should be proud.”

  Catty’s frown deepened. “Your cousin? I assume you spoke with him afterward then.”

  Lora looked away and pointed to a good spot that could accommodate everyone in their group. “Let’s hurry and claim that before anyone else does.” She moved away from Catty to walk in next to Peter, who was always oblivious and would say nothing to her about the state she was in. She knew she couldn’t escape for long, but she hoped she would be able to fully compose herself before that happened.

  Peter looked at her and reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. “I wasn’t sure if you would have enough coin to get something to eat,” he said quietly. “I got this for you.” He held out a slightly flattened meat pie.

  “Oh, thank you Peter, but—“ Lora’s stomach betrayed her and she winced. “Thank you.” She took the pie from him and began to eat it as they walked. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

  He shrugged. “I know you’d never say anything, so I took the initiative. I’m glad your stomach gave you away. I know you wouldn’t have accepted it otherwise.” He smiled and sat in the row behind her with Louis.

  Lora felt, rather than saw, Catty sit on one side of her and Regan on the other. “What happened?” Catty demanded.

  “What did your cousin say that upset you so much?” Regan asked at almost the same time.

  “My cousin said nothing,” she said with a sigh. “I overheard his companion say something as I walked away. I’m over it now. Don’t worry about it. Please.”

  It was fortunate that the bugle announced the start of the wrestling at that moment. Lora had a hard time getting into it, since her thoughts were elsewhere. She spent most of her time trying to get by unnoticed, and someone had gone and noticed her—and not for any good reason. She certainly knew her looks left something to be desired. She’d never been a pretty child and never had aspirations of beauty. It wasn’t worth wanting something that would never happen. But no one had ever gone and described her for what she was. It hurt. It hurt more than she had imagined it would.

  All too quickly, the wrestling was over. Lora had no idea who had won or how well Master Karl had done. She hoped no one would try and talk to her about it. She took the arm Louis offered and walked with him over to their box overlooking the lists. Lora was glad he was absorbed in conversation with Peter and Genea. She was not in the mood to talk.

  She did not enjoy the rest of the tournament. She did not shout with the rest of her companions when Lord Harrison was unhorsed. She did not partake in dinner, even when Catty brought her a meat pie and set it in front of her. She did not ooh and ah at the wielder displays that went on until after full dark. She was glad to walk off the tourney grounds and back into the swordsplayer girls’ dormitory.

  “Alright, Lora,” Catty said after they changed into their nightgowns. “What gives? I left you alone and made Regan leave you alone too. Now it’s just you and me. You can tell me. What happened?”

  Lora sighed and got under her covers. “I’m ugly,” she whispered. And there it was.

  Catty frowned. “That’s ridiculous. I won’t have anyone saying that about my friend, no matter who they are.”

  “It’s only ridiculous because you’re my friend,” Lora said, turning away from her. “I’ve always known I was no prize, but I’ve never heard it put quite like that before. So never you mind, Catty. Just let it be.” She paused. “And don’t tell Regan. He wouldn’t understand.”

  CHAPTER 19

  On the second to last day of classes, Lora was furiously taking notes in theory of war when Catty nudged her with her elbow. Lora frowned and elbowed her back. She liked to make sure she heard every word Lord Cedric said to the class. His tests were notoriously difficult, and she was determined not to miss anything.

  Catty nudged her again. “Guess what,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

  Lora ignored her and continued to write.

  “You’ll never guess.”

  “Then I guess it can wait until after class,�
� Lora replied.

  “You’re no fun,” Catty pouted. “I guess I’ll tell you anyway. I’m not going to Arbor Cove for the winter holidays.” She waited for a response and frowned when Lora continued to write. “I’ll be staying at school.”

  Lora gave a tiny smile. “Wonderful. We can make plans over lunch.”

  Catty raised her eyes to the ceiling and muttered a prayer to the gods. “Don’t you want to know why?”

  “Miss Catherine,” came Lord Cedric’s booming voice. “Do you have a question? Something you’d like to share with the class?” The rest of the class being the approximately three hundred fifty swordsplay and wielder students who were currently enrolled at the Academy. He waited for her to speak for a full minute. “No? Then I would hope you would do us all the courtesy of waiting until the end of class to share whatever news you have for Miss Lorana. And yes. I can hear everything you’re saying. Wonderful thing to be in a place full of such clever wielders. The acoustics in this hall are just marvelous.” He smiled and turned back to his blackboard.

  Catty took copious notes through the end of class. She was semi-mortified. Whenever Lord Cedric scolded anyone, it became the hot subject of discussion at the Academy for at least a sevenday. You gained notoriety. Not necessarily the sort you wanted, but you definitely became a talked about figure.

  When Lord Cedric called the end of class, Lora stretched and yawned. “Yes? You were saying?”

  “You’re impossible,” she groaned. “Anyway, I’ll be staying here. I’ve been invited to the big midwinter ball at the palace.” She grinned and twirled around as they stepped into the courtyard at the entrance to the large lecture hall where theory of war was held.

  Lora stopped walking and turned back toward her friend. “But you won’t be sixteen until the spring. How can you go?”

  “I was invited, and no one’s kicking up a fuss. It appears either no one has noticed that I’m still fifteen. Or no one cares.”

  “I wonder if Regan will invite me next year.” Even if she were invited, Lora did not want to go. She was awkward enough in day to day settings with nobles. Adding in a fancy ball where strict etiquette rules applied was just asking for disaster.

  Catty giggled. “Of course he will. He’s our friend.”

  “Has he invited Louis and Peter?”

  “Why are you asking about Peter?” she teased.

  Lora crossed her arms in front of her chest as they walked into the dormitory together. “I’m asking because if Regan’s asking out of friendship, everyone we know who can go will have been asked. That includes Peter, Louis, and you.” She grinned evilly. “If he only asked you, he might be asking for a kiss. Or more. He is starting to get quite the reputation.”

  Catty stepped out of her dress. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. Her eyes narrowed. “What have you heard?”

  “What haven’t I heard?” Lora replied. She tried and failed to sound innocent. “Alright, alright. I heard a few girls from his class complaining about him. Kisses and promises, promises broken. More than kisses, evidently for one poor girl. Lots of talk of pregnancy potions with that story.”

  “He’s insufferable.” Catty tugged on her tunic and continued to scowl.

  Lora pulled her leggings up under her tunic. “He’s the prince. He can do whatever he wants and people will turn the other way nearly every time.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Catty declared. “Especially considering if he’s this free with the girls at the Academy, think about the common ones. There’ll be three times as many of them.” She ran a comb through her hair and quickly braided it. “Maybe I don’t like him so well after all.”

  Lora tied off her braid. “So I take it Louis and Peter were not invited?” When Catty shook her head, Lora linked arms with her and led her out of the dormitory. “Do you suppose he takes all of his girls to balls at the palace?”

  “I think Queen Matilda would have something to say about that, don’t you?” Catty’s smile had returned. She looked down at her feet just as they arrived at the dining hall. “So, do you think he might like me?”

  “Maybe,” Lora admitted. “I have to say though that I might have had a better idea if you hadn’t pushed me into staring at Peter waiting for something that would never happen. I haven’t noticed anything except a total lack of his looking at me. I really do believe that we’re just friends.”

  Catty’s laugh rang out across the courtyard. “Of course you are,” she teased. “But I had you thinking. Wondering. It did you some good, I think. Look how quickly you could part with all that juicy gossip about Regan.”

  Lora rolled her eyes. “Talking and doing are two very different things,” she said as she took Louis’ arm. She was very careful to not only walk with Peter. If he did like her, and it was now sounding like he didn’t, she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

  They were inside and well into their meal when Catty spoke again. “He’s a good kisser.”

  The fork made a horrible clatter as it hit Lora’s plate after she dropped it. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” she said.

  Catty shrugged. “I’m going to make him wait for more though. My cousin said that’s how you snare a husband. You make him believe you’re his while never going too far. Lots of kissing and no risk. Win, win.” She paused and giggled. “Win, win, and another win. I’d forgotten that I’d be queen.”

  Lora pushed her dinner around her plate. She envied Catty. Her father was the baron of a minor, but prosperous holding. She was well-connected, and she was a promising swordsplayer. She was pretty. She could kiss or pine after nearly anyone she wanted. It was easy for her to throw caution to the wind and dream about boys.

  On the other hand, Lora was common. She had no connections, save for the friendships she made at school and her tenuous arrangement with Lord Allistair. Her father, while a respectable tradesman in Haven Dale, had little money in comparison to the even the lowest members of the gentry. Lora’s mousy brown hair, freckles, plain features, and absence of womanly curves made overlooking her lack of fortune difficult. While she was a swordwielder, it remained to be seen if this increased her standing as much any everyone seemed to think it would. Any young man she allowed herself to like just set her up for tears and anguish. No patriarch of any noble family would see even a younger son wed to a peasant. Any kisses she shared made her vulnerable situation even more delicate. If her reputation were marred, any chance she might have had of making a match would be shattered. It would be a stretch for a younger son of a minor branch of a minor house to look at her based on the way being a swordwielder supposedly raised her status.

  It is best not to think of kisses, she told herself. But that would be difficult with Catty as her friend. Genea appeared to be fairly reserved. Or she was really good at keeping her exploits to herself. Catty, on the other hand, rarely did anything quietly. Lora did not look forward to what that meant for her future with young men.

  CHAPTER 20

  Lora found the midwinter holidays more cheerful and lonelier at the same time. Having Catty around made it difficult to study as she was used to. Her friend got bored quickly and was always looking to go to the tailor or milliner or haberdasher or confectioner. Lora was not keen on shopping, as her funds were so limited, and merely tagged along on these excursions. At other times, she was eager to visit with friends. They spent a great deal of time with Genea and Regan as well as a couple of other Academy students who lived in Glimmen. Very little time was spent on schoolwork. That made her nervous about how she would fare when classes resumed.

  On a day that Lora was able to escape yet another visit to the milliner, she found herself in the library staring out the window with a diplomacy text open and forgotten in front of her. She sensed someone slide into the seat across from her and started when she realized who it was.

  “So, my dear,” Lord Cedric said. “I haven’t seen you about. I’ve missed our conversations. Such fresh views you have. It’s good for these old
bones to hear something new for a change.” He ran his hand over his balding pate. The white hairs adorning it on the top were few and far between. “I noticed that Miss Catherine is here for the holidays. You two are quite thick.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lora told him. “It’s been nice to have a friend around.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “Your… cousin does not bring you home during the holidays. Do you miss your family?”

  Lora was not quite sure what to say. “Of course, I do,” she said after a moment. “I saw my father and brother every day until I came here. Now it’s been over two years. I’m not sure I’d recognize them. Or if they’d recognize me.”

  “They would,” he assured her. He cleared his throat. “Tell me. Were you close to Lord Allistair or Lady Tiana when you lived in the village? I know you’ve seen her a bit. That must be reassuring.”

  “It is.” Lora was not sure where the conversation was going. It made her a little bit nervous.

  “And they are paying your way while you are here?” Lord Cedric leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard.

  “Yes…”

  He pursed his lips and hmmph’ed. “That’s very kind of them.” He stood up and brushed off his tunic. “Well, I won’t keep you. I know you’re used to studying, and that Miss Catherine has made it difficult to keep up this winter. I wish you a pleasant afternoon.” He smiled, picked up his cane, and hobbled off.

  Lora stared after him. She wondered if this was his way of reminding her about their conversations or if it was a remark on her choice of friends. Whatever it was, it was odd. She hoped their conversations would stick to theory in the future.

  “You’ll never guess what,” Catty flounced into the chair Lord Cedric had just vacated. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted.