Seirsha of Errinton

by Shari L. Tapscott

  I cross my arms and wait with the rest of the crowd.

  “It’s too soon to divulge the details, but I am confident this will solve all our problems—and not only the lack of an heir. It will rekindle the vitality of Errinton as well.”

  People murmur around us.

  “Tonight, we celebrate Errinton,” Father continues. “Here’s to a new era in our kingdom’s great history. Once again we will thrive!”

  The crowd applauds, although they’re as hesitant as I am.

  “Where is Seirsha?” Father scans the crowds. I almost shrink back when he spots me. “Come forward.”

  Every eye bores into me as I cross the hall. I shouldn’t have worn red tonight. I feel like a siren. I join Father, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

  It’s awkward for both of us.

  “I swear by the year’s end, the lower kingdoms will beg for an alliance through Seirsha. They mock us with their silence, but that will soon change.”

  Wanting to die, I keep my face expressionless as Father boasts. The crowd’s applause grates on my nerves, and I am eager to be away from their eyes.

  “You will stay in attendance until further notice.” Father says, ignoring the nobles’ irritated expressions at the announcement. “I wish to keep you close for council.”

  Finally he removes his hand. In a voice quiet enough only I may hear him, he says, “You’re no longer needed.”

  Stepping away, I try to disappear into the crowd. Father finishes his speech, and people move about the hall once more. Pippa will be pleased. There is, in fact, going to be dancing.

  Will Father notice if I leave? If he does, will he be angry? Most likely. He arranged this strange celebration.

  And what are we celebrating? No one knows. Perhaps he’s finally gone mad.

  Perhaps he was mad to begin with.

  I’ve been humiliated before—a great many times before—but tonight was possibly the worst. Why would Father announce my lack of offers in front of this crowd? What profit did it bring him? They all know. They don’t need reminding.

  A hand settles on my shoulder. The intimacy of it against my bare skin startles me, and I whip around. Rigel stands in front of me. I want to shrink away; my embarrassment is now complete.

  His eyes narrow with pity. “Dance with me?”

  The last thing I want is his charity.

  “I would be a poor partner this evening.” I meet his eyes for a moment and then look away as if bored.

  Why is he doing this to me? He’s too observant to not know how I feel about him. Why taunt me like this?

  Rigel gives me a dark smile that makes my heart stutter. “Dance with me, Seirsha.”

  It’s not an offer or a request; it’s a gentle demand.

  My name on his lips sends a shiver through me, and I give in. His hand wraps around my waist, and warmth spreads through the thin silk. Trying not to think of how good he feels, I set my hand on his shoulder.

  Careful to keep his voice low, Rigel says, “Your father can be cruel.”

  I meet his eyes but say nothing.

  He studies me. “You do understand the lack of proposals has nothing to do with you, don’t you?”

  Do I? Sometimes I wonder.

  Undaunted by my silence, he continues, “You didn’t wait for me yesterday.”

  My heart flutters, and I stare over his shoulder. He releases my hand and tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His other hand stays at my waist. Our eyes lock, and my breath catches in my throat.

  “Why?” he asks.

  I shake my head, refusing to answer. If he’s frustrated by my silence, he doesn’t mention it. His hand drops from my chin, and again, we circle the hall, moving with the music.

  “What did the girl in the village give you?” he asks. This time, I’m sure he expects no answer.

  Unable to let him carry on a one-sided conversation any longer, I sigh. “A rock.”

  Rigel’s eyes shine. He’s obviously pleased he was able to break my silence. “Where’s that rock now?”

  Startled by the odd turn in the conversation, I give him a quizzical frown. “It’s on the table next to my bookshelf. Why do you ask?”

  Rigel stops leading and gives me such an odd look, I step back. His hand tightens against my waist, and he slowly draws me near again.

  I’m pinned by his gaze. Heat creeps over my cheeks and down my neck. “Is that wrong?”

  “People say you’ve become cold, Seirsha.”

  I’m unsure where he’s going with this. What does he want me to say?

  “They whisper that you are indifferent to the lives of those around you.” Again, Rigel nudges me closer. “But I’ve watched you these last years, and they’re wrong.”

  “You’ve watched me?” I breathe.

  His gaze drops. A ghost of a smile passes over his face, and he laughs under his breath. “That didn’t come out the way I intended.” He rubs his neck. “I just wanted you to know.”

  A smile plays on my lips. “You wanted me to know that people think I’m cold?”

  His eyebrows knit. “No, I—” He stops abruptly and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair.

  Daring a step closer, I continue, “You wanted me to know you’ve watched me?”

  I fight back a smile that is quickly trying to become a grin.

  He’s growing exasperated. Rigel very seldom looks uncomfortable.

  Enjoying his discomfort, I lean in. “Or you want me to know you don’t agree with them?”

  His eyes flicker to mine, and he gives me a wry smile. “Yes, that.”

  Feeling warm, I look away. “Thank you.”

  The song ends, and the melody changes, but Rigel doesn’t release me.

  “Has Pippa convinced you to ride with us tomorrow?” he asks.

  “I hadn’t realized you would be accompanying us.”

  His lips twitch. “Is that a problem?”

  “No,” I answer too quickly.

  A satisfied smirk tugs at his mouth. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  For once in my life, I’m too warm. I stare over his shoulder, fighting for indifference.

  “You’re smiling, Seirsha,” he says quietly.

  His words startle me enough I look right into his eyes. “Do I not smile?”

  “No.” He says the word like a caress, and the warmth of it travels through me, making me feel light and tingly. “Not for years.”

  “You used to make me smile,” I whisper. My heart beats madly in my chest. “Do you remember?”

  “I remember very well.”

  “I’ll go riding with you tomorrow.”

  He’s surprised, but in a pleasant way. “You will?”

  “I will.”

  ***

  I wish I could walk into the great hall unannounced. Unfortunately, Father is adamant about keeping up appearances. Perhaps I can slip in unnoticed.

  The guards stand by the entrance, talking. From the sound of their laughter, I’m sure the subject is one I wish no knowledge of. Moving quickly, I attempt to walk past them. Surprisingly alert this morning, they straighten their posture and nod toward me. The gesture is both a mandatory greeting and a warning to wait. I stop and try not to give into the childish notion to roll my eyes.

  “Princess Seirsha!”

  Our noble guests stand from their morning meal and watch as I cross the hall. My boots click on the stone floor, and the sound echoes off the walls.

  This show is ridiculous. Father isn’t even in attendance this morning.

  “I rather like that,” Pippa says when I join them. She playfully elbows Archer. “Father never had anyone announce me when I came down for breakfast.”

  Archer raises an eyebrow at his wife. “That’s because it would go to your head.”

  She gives him a radiant, teasing smile and tosses her long, red braid behind her shoulder.

  “It’s highly overrated,” I say as I find my seat.
>
  Pippa leans forward on her elbow. “Rigel says you have agreed to ride with us today.”

  I glance at his empty seat as if I’ve only just noticed his absence. “Where is he?”

  “Your father has summoned him.” Pippa says this as if it’s trivial, and she looks startled when I suck in a surprised breath.

  “Why?” I demand.

  Pippa shakes her head, her eyes widening at my tone. “I don’t know.”

  She gives Archer a questioning glance.

  “I only saw him briefly,” Archer answers. “He didn’t say.”

  Father saw us dancing last night. I had hoped with the strange mood he was in he would be lenient, but I must have been wrong.

  Pippa leans forward, and her eyebrows knit with concern. “I’m sure it’s all right.”

  Before I can argue, Argus comes to my side. “His Majesty wishes an audience with you, Your Highness.”

  He makes it sound pleasant, like we’re going to have a friendly chat over scones. That will not be the case. Father only summons me when he is displeased.

  “Excuse me.” I stand and try not to dwell on Pippa’s wary expression.

  I stride from the hall, hoping to look bored and disdainful instead of terrified. Argus walks just behind me. Servants part for us as we make our way down the drafty halls.

  The castle is rich with draperies, art, and the much-coveted pieces of dragon armor—it’s an ostentatious display of the wealth of generations past. As ornate as long-dead kings tried to make it, it’s still cold. There is no warmth in these halls, not from the fires that burn continuously or from the hearts of the people who inhabit the structure.

  The guards outside Father’s chambers nod when we turn the corner, and one raps on the elaborately carved door. Father’s steward, a dour man by the name of Zander, opens the door and nods me in.

  Rigel sits before Father. I can tell from the brief moment our eyes lock, he is furious, but I have no idea what may have transpired between them. He covers any trace of emotion and turns his attention back to the king.

  “I am glad we have an understanding, Lord Rigel.” Father smiles as if he’s being particularly benevolent. “Your loyalty has never gone unnoticed.”

  I shiver.

  “Seirsha,” Father says, smiling wide. He glances back at Rigel and gives him a sharp nod to the door, bidding him a less than friendly goodbye. “It has come to my attention that Calden came to your chambers the night he was murdered.”

  The door presses shut. I know without a doubt Rigel heard.

  Though I try to remain calm, my heart races, and my palms begin to sweat. “Yes.”

  Father nods and tents his hands in front of him. He’s not old. His dark hair may be streaked with gray, but he is still strong. Many would claim him to be handsome. His eyes are like mine—pale, icy blue. They’re disconcerting.

  “You saw him?”

  “He was drunk. I sent him away.”

  Father watches me, his eyes calculating. “And he left when you bid him?”

  I raise my eyebrows, hoping to convey a spirit of indifference to the entire conversation.

  “Was your maid there? She’s beautiful, isn’t she? What is her name again?” He snaps his fingers as if it’s just on the tip of his tongue. His mock smile fades. “Ah, yes. Bea.”

  “She might have been.” I shrug. “At the time the entire event was of little interest to me.”

  “Is that so?”

  I narrow my eyes. “It’s not the first time Calden stumbled about the castle intoxicated.”

  He smiles as if he knows more than he’s letting on. “No, I suppose it wasn’t.”

  He waves me away, and I gladly turn to the door.

  “Oh, Seirsha? One more thing.”

  I pause and look expectantly over my shoulder.

  “There is an alarmingly large number of people who think Rigel should be the next king. We can’t have that.” I wait for him to reach his point. “I believe he is as taken with you as you are him.”

  My heart crashes against my ribs, and I turn to face him.

  “Position yourself close to him. Earn his loyalty, keep him quiet—do whatever it takes. Report anything to me that may hint at his treason.”

  A sick, cold feeling slides over me. “Are you asking me to spy on him? And what exactly does ‘whatever it takes’ mean?”

  Father lifts his chin and studies me. “It means exactly what you think it means. And yes—spy on him. Keep him near and report back to me. He’ll think nothing of it. I’ve already offered you to him.”

  I blanch at the last of his words.

  “What of an alliance with one of the lower kingdoms?” My voice wavers, but there’s no helping it.

  “I was sincere in what I said yesterday. By the time I am finished, the lower kingdoms—every one of them—will be begging for a union with you. Any previous alliances you may have made will matter little.”

  I straighten my shoulders and bore into him with my eyes. “You’re asking me to prostitute myself so that you may gather information from one of your lords.”

  “You needn’t be so vulgar.” Father shakes his head as if he disapproves. “And do not act as if I’m not granting you your heart’s desire. You should be thanking me.” He narrows his eyes, pinning me with his icy stare. “But do not forget, you answer to me, not him.”

  ***

  I slam the outer chamber door as hard as I can. I could scream and rage. Instead, I pace my sitting room.

  “Seirsha?”

  When I hear Bea’s voice, I jump and hold my hand over my already racing heart. “You startled me.”

  Bea takes me in, and her eyes widen. “What’s happened?”

  I can’t even tell her. Of course Father would do this. He’s taken something sweet, something dear to me, and he’s tainted it. This love I hold in my heart may be one-sided and certainly doomed, but it was mine, and it was beautiful.

  How horrifying the conversation with Rigel must have been. How completely humiliating. There’s no way I can face him. I can’t ride with him and pretend everything is as it should be.

  The bells chime the hour. I should be in the stables by now.

  Bea doesn’t ask again, but she sits with her darning and gives me silent comfort as I weather this storm alone. She looks relieved when there is a knock at the door.

  I look at her, frantic. “I can’t see him!”

  Bea nods and waves me into my bedchamber. I close the door behind me and then hesitate, my hand still on the wood. I press my ear close to listen.

  She speaks with someone in the hall, but I can’t hear what they are saying. Finally the outer door closes. I rest my head on the door, feeling sick. Bea opens the door, and I step back quickly so I don’t crash to the ground. She gives me an apologetic look, and I realize that we are not alone.

  Pippa stands in my sitting room. She comes forward when she sees me at the door. “I don’t know what has happened, but Rigel was beside himself when you didn’t come to the stables.”

  Rigel was beside himself? What would that look like? I can’t even imagine him upset. Pippa seems like the type to be drawn to exaggeration, so I don’t take her words to heart.

  “Come with us,” she pleads. “We’ve already saddled your horse.”

  “I can’t.”

  Pippa steps forward. From her determination, I see she’s used to getting her way. What will I have to say to get her to leave?

  She’s in a strange dress my father would never approve of. It’s fitted like a gown, but it’s almost as short as a man’s tunic. It has a slit in the front, and, under it, she wears trousers. It must be for riding, but she will likely freeze.

  “No matter what has happened, escaping the castle for an afternoon will do you good.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Trust me.”

  I shake my head.

  She sets her hands on her hips with a stern look, but her voice is soft. “You’ll have to see him eventually. Won’t it be better to get it
over with in the near privacy of the stables instead of at a council meeting?”

  “What makes you think this is about Rigel?”

  Her mouth quirks up. “You have the look of a woman avoiding a man.”

  “Go on, Seirsha,” Bea says, surprising me. I glare at my friend, but she only gives me a helpless shrug. “You need the fresh air. You haven’t left the castle in weeks.”

  Not since Adrinel left, but she won’t say that in front of Pippa.

  As if she knows she’s already won, Pippa nods. “Let’s go.”

  The princess attempts to make small talk as we walk down the halls, but my answers are terse. I’m too anxious to be sociable.

  We reach the courtyard where the men wait for us. Rigel’s back is toward me. He secures something in his saddlebag, but he goes still when Archer greets us. My hands are restless at my sides. I take a breath to compose myself and try to think of the ride before us instead of the man in front of me.

  After we mount our horses, Rigel leads us through the main gates. The sky is bright. Although it’s still cold, there is a pleasantness to the air that hints that warmer weather is on its way. The snow in the valleys has melted, and now the roads are sloppy with mud. Soon we’ll have another spring snowstorm, and once again the landscape will be white. This late in the season, the snow won’t linger long.

  A scarlet dragon perches on a jutted peak near the castle, a loner who didn’t leave with the others. She suns her wings as she looks down on us with an air of smugness. The beasts are often found around the villages these days. They do this simply to taunt us. At one time, not long ago, the dragon would have been taken down. Slayers would fight over their share of her hide, and eventually it would be sold to the armorsmiths to be melded with iron and created into the dragon armor Errinton became legendary for.

  Due to the treaty signed at the end of the Dragon Wars, we may no longer slay the beasts. In return, they may not attack us. Though life is considerably more peaceful, we have lost our kingdom’s livelihood. Without the dragon armor, we have nothing. Our land is cold and rocky. Sparse native vegetation grows in our cool summer, but there is no grazing land for animals. With the short growing season, and the unfertile soil, crops struggle to grow here as well. Peasants fight nature every year in the attempt to grow just enough in their small gardens to feed their families.