Lora had just begin to understand what exactly went on during these assignments. Dain and she had started up their correspondence again since the new year, and he was full of stories about what he had been doing at James Lake. And it wasn’t just avoiding or rolling his eyes at Geoff. He participated in council meetings, saw to the castle’s defenses, and fought in border skirmishes. She wasn’t sure what she had thought, but it certainly wasn’t that he would be put in harm’s way. James Lake was right on the border with Korlisse and anything could happen.
Dain had said after this summer, when he graduated from the Academy, he would be going home to Mount Rathbone, which was near the border with Erasteen. Relations with Erasteen were touchy as well, so he said being at James Lake was preparing him well to help his father and brother govern more effectively. Lora just didn’t like to think of any of her friends in danger, and now that Regan would be nineteen, he’d be going off to fight too. Then it would be Peter and Louis, then Catty, and finally Genea, Sylvane, and herself.
Lora wondered where she would be assigned. Would it be near one of her friends? Would she be in a new place with no familiar faces? Would she fit in? Probably not, unless her friends were nearby. Would it be near her home? They usually didn’t do that, except in Dain and Regan’s cases. Would she get along with her hosts? Possibly. It was all so scary and uncertain.
She continued her discussions with Lord Cedric, even though she no longer needed the extra help. Lora found she liked talking with him and grew to think of him as she would her father. She began asking him “hypothetical” questions whenever she was struggling with life.
“I’ve been invited to the midwinter ball, Lord Cedric,” Lora said.
Lord Cedric’s head was bent over the chessboard. He had been teaching Lora. He said anyone with half her wit and intelligence needed to know how to play. “I’m sure you’ll have a marvelous time, my dear.”
Lora bit her lip. “I’ve never been to anything like it,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I’ll say or do something stupid, and I’ll never be able to show my face again.”
“Nonsense,” he said, still continuing to set up the board. Lord Cedric always placed each piece with care. “Your friends will be there. You have a dress being made for the occasion—I’ve heard you talking with Miss Catherine about it. You’ve learned all the dances and protocol as well as any other student, if Mistress Diane is to be trusted in assessing you, which she is.”
“I’m nervous.”
The old man looked up from the chess board. “You’ve talked with your friends about this?” When she shook her head, he sighed. “Lora, you’re a lovely young woman. You are intelligent and will be able to carry on a meaningful conversation with anyone you come across. You will have dance partners. More than you would like, I expect. Young men talk, you know.” He shook his head. “You will enjoy yourself. Don’t look upon this as yet another challenge. It’s a time for merrymaking and fun. Remember that.” He gestured to Lora. He had put the white pieces in front of her.
She smiled and carefully chose her pawn. “Thank you,” she told him. She had needed the type of reassurance her father would give her and couldn’t.
“Not at all,” he replied, charging into play with his knight. “I know you are not able to speak with your family on a regular basis. In fact, I’ve never heard you speaking of your father and older brother’s correspondence. I assume that Lord Allistair and Lady Tiana just carry messages for them?”
Lora nodded. She played another pawn. “Yes. They don’t write to me.”
Lord Cedric paused, lost in thought. He moved a pawn and sat back in his chair. “Not all commoners can read and write,” he said after a while.
“Oh they can read and write,” she replied. She reached for another pawn and stopped, her hand hovering over it. Tears filled her eyes. She sat back and put her hands in her lap. She took the handkerchief her offered her and sniffed. “How did you know?”
“I’ve always known,” he said. “Lord Allistair’s mother was my sister. I’ve been to Haven Dale more times than I can count. Before you arrived at the Academy, I’d never seen or heard of you, so I was immediately suspicious. I started poking about and got in touch with the reeve of your village. Nice fellow. Told me all about Mark Fletcher and his family. A son and a daughter. The son was following in his father’s footsteps as a fletcher. He wasn’t sure about the daughter though, as she’d been sent away when she was twelve. Explains your predilection toward archery, my dear.”
Lora bit her lip. “Are they kicking me out? Am I being thrown into prison for lying about this for so long?”
Lord Cedric laughed. “I’ve not told anyone. You can do that yourself when you’re ready. And your place in society is assured because you are a swordwielder. You are not what you once were. Now, make your move.”
Her heart wasn’t in the game, so Lora quickly lost. She made her apologies to Lord Cedric and escaped as quickly as she could to mull things over. How many other people had guessed? she wondered.
Over the next few days, she overanalyzed every interaction she had with her friends, acquaintances, and her teachers. Lord Robert got so cross with her that he bound her arms in place with air so that she could not move and then dumped a large amount of water on her that he had gathered from the nearby air. Lord Michael refused to conjure up fire to help dry her off, and instead threatened to dump earth on her so that she became a muddy mess.
After that, Lora kept her brooding to mealtimes, study time, and bedtime. Her friends were used to such behavior from her from time to time and left her alone for the most part.
Regan did not. “Look alive, Haven Dale,” he sat as he slid into the chair across from her in the library. “I’m tired of having you only half present at dinner. It isn’t dignified, you know. And it won’t do at the ball.” He gave her a meaningful look. “The winter holidays are nearly upon us. You haven’t forgotten, I trust.”
Lora scowled. “How could I forget? Catty drags me to Mistress Bethany’s nearly every day for fittings, as if anything changes in a day.”
“Ah, yes,” he steepled his hands in front of him. “The dress. Catty chatters on about the dresses nonstop. Festive red and green, I’m told?”
Her scowl deepened. “I’d rather not talk about it,” she muttered and pulled her book on Erastinian diplomacy closer to her only to half-shout, “Hey!” when Regan slid it away. A nearby librarian shushed her and gave them a punitive look.
“You don’t want to come.” He was not asking a question.
“It’s not that simple,” she told him futilely reaching for her book.
Regan raised an eyebrow. “No? And here I thought you either wanted to come or you didn’t. If I’d realized you were so reticent, I’d have skipped sending you an invitation.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, Regan,” she sighed. “Many times. I’ve argued the point with Catty, as well. And probably Dain. And most recently, Lord Cedric in a way.”
“That’s a lot of arguing,” Regan said, still holding the book hostage. “You’d think that you would take the opinions of at least three friends and a teacher you admire into account.” A mischievous gleam appeared in his eye. “Or perhaps I’ll need to give you a title just to quiet your grumbling.”
Lora stared down at her hands, resigned. “I always knew my place before I came here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “My path was laid out in front of me. Straight as day. Everything changed when I came here, and I am having trouble finding my place, even after four years. I am laughed at when I say I’ll just go back to my old life after graduation. I’m scoffed at if I appear to believe I’ll do more. So, what do I believe? The words of my kind and well-meaning friends? The few words of my often harsh but very pragmatic cousins? What say you, your highness?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled again.
Regan rolled his eyes. “There’s no reasoning with you, but you have to realize, not everything is black and whi
te like you seem to think.” He pushed back his chair, stood up, pushed his hair out of his eyes, and patted her on the head. “I’ll leave you to your obviously fascinating reading on the failure of diplomacy between Ydris and Erasteen. Yes, that’s how it ends, so I can spare you the tedium.” He gave her a little mocking bow and strode away.
The following day, Lora found herself on a pedestal in Mistress Bethany’s shop with Catty lolling on a chaise nearby. “Am I really being so stupid?” she asked as Mistress Bethany pinned and repinned the stubborn silk. Lora winced as the pin’s point grazed her skin.
“You’re rarely stupid,” Catty told her as she popped a caramel into her mouth.
“You know what I mean,” Lora told her as she raised her arm for Mistress Bethany. “Am I stupid for being fitted for a dress I might never wear the likes of again? Am I stupid for thinking I might never wear the likes of it again? Am I just stupid in general?”
Mistress Bethany chuckled. “I had a young man in here asking about you the other day, my dear. He was no pauper, I assure you. Regardless of whatever you think your position is, others have always been willing to overlook it. You are marvelous as you. No strings attached. No titles or large fortune needed.” She paused. “Those are always helpful, but there are a lot of empty-headed souls or cruel sorts who have one or both. It doesn’t do them one bit of good.” She lowered Lora’s arm and raised the other. “Did I hit the nail on the head, then?”
Catty laughed as well as she could with a mouth full of caramel. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell her for four years now. She fears setting her sights too high only to have what’s real come crashing down on her, I think. It’s too bad she won’t be convinced that those who’d let anything crash down aren’t worthy of her notice.”
“When are you sixteen, my dear?” Mistress Bethany lowered Lora’s arm and walked around her, frowning.
“In just over a sevenday,” she said. She couldn’t sigh because her laces were so tight.
“And already you’ve given yourself indigestion over this matter?” Mistress Bethany clucked her tongue, and smoothed out a seam. “Do you have some ogre of a mother, aunt, or grandmother—or cousin—hovering over you demanding you get married at the earliest moment possible? There are young ladies who would kill to be in your position, you know. You have very important skills that are held in higher regard than your ability to produce heirs, you know.”
Catty giggled. “And you know you don’t have to be titled, rich, or married to have fun at a ball!” She had finally gotten her teeth apart and was sipping on a glass of water.
Lora looked skyward. “Fine!” she conceded. “Can we please talk about something else now?”
“Excellent!” Catty sat right up. She waggled her eyebrows. “Pregnancy potions, then?”
Lora’s cheeks flamed crimson and Mistress Bethany laughed. “I make a strong one if you have the need, Miss Lorana,” the tailor said as she started to calm down.
“I most certainly do not have the need,” Lora declared.
“No? Well, you might. I hear that Geoffrey of James Lake has done nothing but pester our handsome prince about you since you met this summer,” Catty put in.
“He’s a clod,” Lora declared. “Besides, I don’t like anyone. No one has kissed me, so I really don’t think I’ll skip that step and head straight on into pregnancy potion territory.” She nodded to the tailor. “I appreciate the thought though. Someday, I may want some and am glad to know where I can find it.”
Catty squealed. “No kisses?” She swooned onto the chaise. “What about Peter?”
Lora rolled her eyes. “Peter is like my brother. He’d just as soon break my nose again as kiss me. And don’t ask about anyone else. My answers will be much the same.”
“I guess we’ll just have to expand your social circle,” Catty teased.
Too soon for Lora’s comfort, her birthday arrived. One day until the dreaded ball. The gown hung in her room, a terrible and constant reminder of what was to come. All of her friends had stayed over the holiday due to their invitations to the midwinter ball at the palace. Regan and Sylvane were, of course, at the palace, and Genea was at her family’s home. Peter, Louis, and Catty stayed at the Academy, of course.
Shortly after the sun rose, there was a knock at Lora’s door. She undid the air bindings and opened the door only to be tackled by Genea and Catty. “Happy birthday!” they chorused.
Lora rolled her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m half starved. Perhaps we could take these celebrations to the dining hall?”
Genea shook her head. “No more going out without your laces drawn. Oh the scandal!”
“I figured as much,” Lora grumbled.
She gestured for her friend to turn around. And she helped her finish getting properly dressed. Genea nodded. “Now, we can head out,” she said. “No more starving for the birthday girl.”
Catty giggled, and Genea and she each took an arm and towed their unwilling friend with them to breakfast. Lord Cedric nodded at her and winked from over his steaming mug of tea. Mistresses Tabitha, Diane, and Flora came by and kissed her on the cheek, much to her embarrassment. And Lord Michael and Lord Robert raised their steaming mugs to her over their meals.
“This is so embarrassing,” Lora complained as they found a table. “No one ever said or did anything on my other birthdays.”
“This isn’t like any other birthday,” Catty told her. “You’ll be viewed in a whole new light. Things you could get away with yesterday, you won’t be able to today. You’ll also be getting different sorts of attention than you’re used to.”
Louis and Peter slid into the seats across from them. “Did we miss anything?” Louis asked. “I’m starved.”
Peter slid a small package toward Lora. “I know you don’t do gifts, but here you are. It’s from Louis and me,” he said. He grinned and served himself some hotcakes and sausage.
When Lora opened her mouth to complain, Genea cut her off and slid another gift in front of her. “Don’t start,” she said, scolding her. “Just accept them. You’re our friend. We don’t care about anything else.” She placed the pastries they all knew Lora liked on her friend’s plate and added a few strips of bacon.
Catty signaled for some tea. “That one is from Genea and me.”
“I wanted to get you something useful, like garters—hey!” Louis put his hand over his reddening cheek before a smack sounded several inches in front of his face. “Two can play at that game!”
“You’re so vulgar, Louis,” Lora said, shaking her head. “And you can’t complain about the air slap. I got you fair and square. You’re faster than I am with your shield.” She gestured to the unmarked side of his face. “You got it there before I could.” She grinned and began untying the knot and the gift from Peter and him. “Ooh! Chocolate turtles! This is much better than a garter. Far more useful. I can’t eat a garter, after all.”
Genea nudged her. “No talk of garters, not even when you’re goaded by that imbecile over there.” She pointed at Louis and frowned. “You’re an adult.”
Lora blushed, set her candy down, and picked up the gift from the girls. Inside was a pair of delicate silver earrings. “These are lovely,” she said. “They’re perfect for tomorrow.”
“Oh, we know,” Catty teased. “I’ve been at all of your fittings, after all.”
She rolled her eyes and took a bite of the pastry Genea had so thoughtfully placed on her plate. Lora had had friends in Haven Dale, but nothing like this. She considered herself a very lucky young woman—there, she admitted it. A very lucky young woman, indeed.
CHAPTER 25
The day of the ball dawned bright and clear. Freezing, but bright and clear. The little bit of snow that had fallen before midwinter was crusty and icy. The cobbled streets and paths were slick with ice. Multitudes of workers were out before dawn salting everything down so that no person or horse would be injured in a fall.
The friends had stayed up late
the night before so they would be assured to sleep late. Sleeping late on a day when you knew you’d be up all night was as important a part of the preparation as anything else. As a result, Lora woke up early, tired, and cross.
Woman or not, she was not about to bother either of her friends to help get her dressed that morning, so she decided to forgo her corset. Until she ran into Mistress Tabitha who turned her around and saw her properly dressed for breakfast. Lora sighed and walked to the dining hall silent and alone.
She served herself up some fried bread and jam, signaled for a mug of hot cider, and dug into her breakfast. The normally tasty meal was dry and tasteless on her tongue. She forced herself to eat, since she knew it would likely be the only time she could choke anything down. When she was finished, Lora went straight to the bath and soaked for as long as she dared. She had high hopes the warm water would calm her nerves and allow her to nap for a few hours, as Catty had done the previous year.
When she had soaked her fill, Lora quickly made her way back to her room. She found the pacing duo of Catty and Genea waiting for her outside her room. “Where have you been?” they chorused.
“I woke up early,” Lora replied as she released the air binding on her door. She was glad to have it. It helped avoid awkward surprises. “So I went and had breakfast and took a bath.” She gave them a very significant look. “I had hoped the bath would calm me down enough so that I could nap.”
Catty laughed. “You thought you could nap on this momentous occasion?”
Lora rolled her eyes. “Yes. You napped last year on this momentous occasion, so it wasn’t such a huge stretch of my imagination.”
“If you insist,” Genea said with a curtsy. “We’ll leave you alone. But I have to warn you that it’s nearly noon. I guess your bath took longer than you thought?” She nodded at Lora’s grimace. “You’ll only have a couple of hours to sleep and get awake. Then it’s beautification time.” She sighed. “I wish I were going. My parents are stricter than yours, Catty. They won’t let me go even though I’m older now than you were last year.” Catty blushed prettily.
Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1) Page 16
