by Kiera Cass
She stared at me, refusing to budge. “Hollis, so help me, you will get in that carriage.”
“Or?”
“Or you will be on your own,” my father finished.
I watched him, trying to understand. Behind him, the front doors were shut tight, and my parents were in their traveling clothes. I only just then saw the trunk that I’d taken to the castle was sitting on the steps.
I was never going into my house, not if I didn’t agree to go back to Jameson.
“I’m your only child,” I whispered. “I know I wasn’t a boy, and I was never as smart or talented as you would have hoped, but I have done my best. Don’t lock me out of my own home.”
“Get. In. The carriage,” my mother insisted again.
I looked over at it, black and shiny and deadly. And then I looked back at my mother and father. And I shook my head.
That was my last chance.
With a nod of my father’s head, the doorman picked up my trunk and threw it down the steps to my feet. I heard something smash inside it. I was hoping a broken bottle of perfume wasn’t ruining what little I had left to my name.
“Oh my goodness,” Lady Eastoffe said, hurrying out of the coach. “Help me with this,” she said to her driver, who quickly came over to pick up the trunk. Lady Eastoffe looked up at my mother, not bothering to disguise the rage in her eyes.
“Do you have something to say?” my mother shot at her.
Lady Eastoffe shook her head, holding her arms around me as I stood in stunned silence. “I’ve gone through so much to keep my family in one piece. I don’t understand how you can tear yours apart without so much as a second thought. She’s your daughter.”
“I will not take lessons from you. If you’re so concerned, you can be responsible for her now. Wait until you see how she repays you.”
“I will be responsible for her! I’m proud to have her as my own. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she accomplishes more than all of us one day.”
Mother dropped her voice. “Not if she’s married to your pig of a son.”
“Come,” I whispered. “There’s no point talking to them. Let’s go.”
Having the class to hold her tongue, Lady Eastoffe guided me back into the coach. I climbed back in on unsteady feet, taking the seat that looked out at Varinger Hall. I had plucked apples from those trees as a girl. Danced in the tall grass. I could still see the swing I’d climbed in the distance. I think, once, we were all happy here. Before they realized I was their only hope, before I let them down.
I watched as my parents went back inside, closing the doors behind them. It was the cold sound of them screeching shut that finalized what I had already suspected: I had no one but Silas now.
There were no friends waiting for me back at the castle, no apartments to comfort me. My family no longer wanted me for their own, and I wasn’t welcome in my childhood home. And so I left, thankful only for the arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder.
Twenty-Nine
IN AN EFFORT TO MAKE sure Silas and I could get married within two short weeks, all repairs to Abicrest Manor were focused on the main floor. The Eastoffes intended to invite all the nearby families, both as a gesture of goodwill and as a chance to show them they weren’t heathens. The floors were scrubbed, bringing new life to the stone. Furniture and tapestries the Eastoffes had brought from Isolte were aired out and placed where they were highly visible. Staff was acquired quickly, and the Eastoffes bought their loyalty with kindness and extra food.
In short time, I was grafted into the family, and much pain was taken to make sure that when it was official, it would be done through the best celebration they could afford.
“Is this the one?” Lady Eastoffe asked, looking at the fabrics brought in for me to choose for my wedding dress. She was lingering over my signature gold. “I have heard more brides are swinging toward white. It’s meant to symbolize purity.”
I tried to be discreet about rolling my eyes. “After leaving the castle the way I did, I worry white would only invite criticism.”
Scarlet gasped at me. “Hollis! If you want white, you should wear it! Can you please pull this one out more, sir?” she asked, grabbing at a bolt of ivory fabric.
“No, no,” I insisted. “Besides, Silas says I’m his shining sun. I think he’d like the gold.”
“That’s so sweet,” Scarlet commented. “Then I think you’re right. It should be gold.”
My happiness was ever so slightly tainted by the knowledge that my parents were just on the other side of the plain, past the forest, and on lands that we’d held for generations, but that they refused to come see me. Too ashamed to return to the castle, they were staying in the country; they might as well have been on the other side of the continent for how close they felt. Without their approval, this was dangerously close to eloping. I was certain the reason Jameson had a hard time convincing the lords to approve of me was because of how much of the law circled around marriage. In most families, there were written contracts where the parties would make agreements upon goods exchanged to prove the match was being done for the mutual benefit of both groups. If an engagement was officially made, it took another contract to undo it, and if a parent made an agreement on behalf of their child, sometimes that took the work of a holy man to undo, if not the king himself. Eloping and marrying quickly without the express approval of one’s family told the world those laws were insignificant, and it brought on unending judgment.
One look at Delia Grace’s life was enough to prove that.
But where the family I was leaving had nothing to say, the one I was entering did nothing but fawn over me. The proof was in the preparation for my wedding, the fuss they made over gaining another daughter.
“Gold it is,” Lady Eastoffe confirmed. “What do you want for the style? I know the sleeves of Isolten gowns can be heavy, but I thought maybe we could round the neckline. Try to pull the two together?”
I smiled. She had said this about dozens of things. The dress, my hair, the dinner, the music . . . All she wanted to do was build a new life for all of us.
“I think that will look quite lovely.”
The tailor nodded in agreement and took his goods to begin his work. He said his shop could produce a gown in five days, so that would keep us right on schedule. As the tailor left, a maid walked in and whispered in Lady Eastoffe’s ear.
“Absolutely. Show her in at once.”
My heart leaped up into my chest. My mother was here, I just knew it. She was going to give me her blessing and let me wear a family heirloom and everything was going to be all right.
But my mother did not walk through the door. It was an older lady who looked to be a servant. She came over and curtsied before me.
“My Lady Hollis. I’m sure after so many years away, you won’t remember me, but I work in your home, in Varinger Hall.”
I studied the woman’s face, but she was right, I didn’t recognize her. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. Is everything well with my parents? Is something wrong with the manor?”
“They are in good health, miss. They do seem quite sad. I think they regret sending you away, but that’s not my place to say. But yesterday, you got a letter. I felt after everything you’d been through, it might do you good to have some comforting words, so I planned to come today. Just before I left, a second letter arrived, so I brought it, too.”
She held out the neat little letters, and I recognized Delia Grace’s handwriting immediately. The other was a mystery.
“Thank you very much . . . I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Hester, my lady.”
“Hester, I’m indebted to you.”
“It’s no trouble. It’s the simple kindnesses in life, isn’t it?”
I smiled. “Yes, it is. Do you need an escort home? Or a horse?”
Lady Eastoffe turned to summon someone to help, but Hester lifted her hand. “Oh, no. It’s such a pretty day for a walk. But I best be on my way. Many h
appy wishes for your wedding, my lady.”
She moved slowly, and I wondered how long it had taken her to get here on foot.
“We’ll give you some privacy,” Scarlet offered, pulling her mother from the room. I smiled at her in gratitude and started with perhaps the more frightening update, the one from Delia Grace.
Dear Hollis,
I didn’t miss that she didn’t bother calling me Lady.
You were right. The night you left, His Majesty was in need of a companion, and when I went to him mourning the departure of my closest friend, we related in a way we never had before. This morning I was gifted with a new gown. I think, at last, I am where I always wanted to be.
There is other news. A section of the South Wing caught fire the other day, and it was fortunate it didn’t spread. No one is confessing to setting it, and though the rooms in question were supposedly empty at the time, my guess is it belonged to one of the Isoltens. They’re all kept in that same area. There was a rumor that Jameson started it himself, which is a vicious lie. Keresken Castle is his home.
While His Majesty was out of sorts immediately after you left, he seems to be almost himself again these past few days. He’s yelling less, and I talked him into throwing a tournament for the solstice, and the planning has lifted his spirits. I don’t have the talent for making him laugh as you did, but he smiles for me sometimes. I’m the only person who can manage to get him to do that, so I’d say my place is relatively secure. My guess is, if he does care for me, he will be very cautious before offering his hand again. Honestly, there’s a part of me that thinks he’s waiting for you. Though I’m not sure why, after how you left.
This reminds me, there is a rumor circulating that you are a witch. With the way the king was acting, someone said you must have cast a spell on him to drive him to such madness. Don’t worry, I quashed that one. Well, I tried. Then there was one about you being pregnant, which, with your carefree spirit, was much easier for people to believe. There’s only so much one can do to quell rumors at court, as you well know.
Speaking of rumors, there is one that has been of particular interest to me. Someone told me that you didn’t just leave the palace, but you left with the Eastoffe boy. The oldest one, the one who made the sword. They said that you were to be married to him any day now, and that you had been plotting to leave the castle with him for some time.
Naturally, Jameson needs me so much right now that I cannot possibly leave to come and investigate this myself, but if there is any truth to this, I am most anxious to know of it. I think, if this is true, it would do for Jameson what the eve of your engagement did for me: allow him to settle into the inevitable. I think he will be much happier himself once he knows your heart belongs to another.
For what it’s worth, I am sorry things didn’t work out. Just because I’d hoped for Jameson for myself doesn’t mean I wished ruin upon you. Perhaps you won’t believe that—I know I wasn’t the best friend I could have been in recent weeks. But it is true. I’m sorry.
I must be off. I find myself in the center of so much attention these days, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
Hope you are well, old friend. Send my best to your family.
Delia Grace
I shook my head and folded up the letter. She might have been sorry, but she didn’t say a word about wishing I was back, about missing me. I still missed her.
“But I bet she does,” I whispered to myself. Delia Grace had a hard enough time mentioning her feelings out loud, so it was no surprise she’d be hesitant to put them in writing. But I knew her as no one else did. My guess was court life was a little lonely these days, even with all of Jameson’s attention. I wouldn’t be shocked to learn she missed me so much, it hurt to write it down.
Someday, I would mend all this.
I picked up the other letter, studying the delicate handwriting, and, flipping it over, I found the Isolten royal seal pressed into the wax.
“Valentina!” I whispered hopefully.
Dear Hollis,
I am both surprised and not surprised by your news. I think, if I had reconsidered before supporting the current rider at the tournament, I would have been much more satisfied with another.
I squinted at the words. Tournament? Pausing, I flipped the letter over and studied the seal again. If I looked closely, I could see where some wax had been melted away and the note resealed before being sent to me.
She warned she might write in code, so my guess was that she was speaking of King Quinten. Yes, I, too, would have gone with a different knight.
I wish so dearly that I could see you again. I could use another game of dice.
. . . talk to me? Be comforted by someone?
I have been working so hard on my garden, but I’m afraid the very rare flower that I planted has wilted. It’s been difficult to stay bright without it.
I paused over that one, thinking it could only have one meaning and hating it.
She’d lost the baby.
I had to sit for a moment and swallow my tears. She’d been so nervous before, and then so happy once she was positive her baby was on the way. That was three now. . . . I couldn’t imagine her suffering.
I do love that I have your letters to look forward to, so once you’re married and settled, do take some time to write me all the details of your special day. I want to feel as if I were in Coroa again, standing beside you, eating honey cakes.
I’m sorry this letter is so brief, but since my garden has waned, I find myself easily tired. I will send you more news soon, telling you all the gossip about the gentry in Isolte, even though you won’t know any of these people at all. The stories themselves are amusing, and I think it might keep you entertained out in the country.
Do take care of yourself, Lady Hollis. Stay well and write soon.
Your dear friend,
Valentina
I sighed. I wished she could be standing by my side, too. Tucking my letters into my skirts, I went to the only person I could talk to about this.
Thirty
IF HE WASN’T HELPING WITH the renovations to the manor, Silas was always in the outbuildings with Sullivan, working on new pieces. It seemed, despite the rumors of our leaving together, he was still receiving commissions. The people of court had seen Eastoffe work firsthand at least twice now, and there was no denying their skill.
I could see him through the large, glassless window, hammering away on metal as Sullivan appeared to be polishing a piece toward the back.
“Good afternoon, sir,” I said, setting myself down on the window ledge.
“My lady!” Silas called, wiping sweat from his face before coming over and kissing me. In the corner, Sullivan stashed his work under some straw. “To what do I owe the honor of your company?”
“I had a question for you.”
Quietly, Sullivan crept out the door. If anyone took the time to watch, it was impossible to miss how sweet he was. He tended to live in his own world in his head, but he wanted to offer others privacy, too. Just in case.
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you remember how I was in charge of entertaining Valentina?”
He laughed. “Yes. And I remember you doing a smashing job because no one—I mean, no one—in the Isolten court could get her to smile, let alone talk.”
“It felt like quite an accomplishment at the time. I wasn’t sure, after we spoke, if you realized just how close Valentina and I were.”
Silas raised his eyebrows, looking over at me. “I realized. As much as I was wishing you’d come just to speak to me, I could tell how worried you were for her. I was hoping it would be a very short-lived friendship.”
I grimaced. “I know you and the Isolten royal family aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“But all the same, I care about Valentina. She’s entrusted me with some very important secrets.”
He squinted, crossing his arms. “Such as?”
I sighed. “She just had a miscarriage. It’s the third one she’s lost.”
Silas stood there, gaping at me. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. She told me under strict confidence about the first two when she visited, and she just wrote me about the third. I’m worried for her.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Three . . . I have to tell Father.”
“No!” I insisted, putting my hands up. “I promised I’d keep her secret, and she trusts me. I’m only telling you so I can explain my following, very unreasonable request.”
“Which is?”
“Do you . . . could we go to Isolte sometime soon?”
“Hollis.” His face was aghast and his tone flat.
“Not for long!” I promised. “I know that Valentina is all alone, and I’m sure she’s afraid the king may divorce her—or worse—now that she’s lost a third child. I want her to know she has a friend.”
“Then write her a letter.”
“It’s not the same!” I protested.
He shook his head, staring back at the fire. “I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be able to give you the life you were going to have at the palace—”
“I don’t want that life,” I interjected.
“And I promised myself that, so long as it was in my power, I’d give you everything you ever asked for.” He came closer, lowering his voice. “But Isolte is a dangerous place for my family. The king doesn’t trust us, and we’re not sure if the Darkest Knights would tolerate us, even for a visit. For goodness’ sake, I was the one who convinced my family to finally leave.” He clasped my hands tightly. “I can’t go back there. Not now . . . maybe not ever.”
I dropped my head but tried to not look too disappointed. Running off had caused much more of a mess than I’d bargained for, and I kept worrying I was taking things away from Silas instead of adding to his life. I didn’t want this to be something else he worried about for my sake.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll write Valentina and try to be a comfort that way.”
