by Tara Brown
The castle halls were busy. Maids and other servants bustled about, but none greeted her. She’d never felt lonelier, which was fine. She had been seeking quiet.
She made her way to a small chapel. Feeling like an intruder, she intended to stay only a moment, noting the water goddess Hithu in the corner. Lenny walked to her, staring at the stunning bronze carving. There were incense on the table to light. The scent of the last one burnt lingered in the air from whoever had prayed there.
Lenny lit one and thought of Wilfred.
He hadn’t appeared to her in the castle yet, making her think he could only be seen in Blockley.
The smoke lifted into the air and silently she prayed her brother’s body rested well with the goddess of water.
Her mother and sisters hadn’t left their suite all day, their grief so new and fresh it brought them to their knees and kept them there. But Lenny’s was in a different stage. She was angry with her brother for going out. Angry with her mother for forcing Wilf’s marriage, which in turn drove him to seek long shifts at sea. Her mind raced with all the what-ifs and uselessness of the pain crippling them all.
“Do you know the story?” a voice she recognized asked from the corner.
Lenny turned to find Lord Ivor sitting in the pews. She hadn’t noticed him there when she walked in.
“Are you following me?”
“I was here first, which would suggest it is you who is following me.” He stood and walked to Hithu. “Do you know the story of how she became the water goddess?”
“Of course. What kind of fisherman’s daughter would I be if I didn’t know the lore of the sea?” She reached forward and touched the statue’s stunning face. “Hithu was the daughter of the King of Dahleigh during the age of the fae, said to be more beautiful than any woman in all the kingdoms in Amaria. She reached womanhood and was to be married to a king from a neighboring kingdom, in a deal that would bring trade and prosperity to Dahleigh. But as the wedding was planned, an illness ran through all of Amaria. Every village and city saw death at their doorstep. A plague.”
Lenny paused, hearing Gran’s voice telling the story as she continued.
“Hithu was kept inside, quarantined in a tower to keep her healthy until she could be wed. She was allowed one servant girl, Lillith. It was her job to ensure no one saw Hithu. But Lillith fell in love and snuck out to meet her sweetheart. She didn’t show signs of the illness until it was too late and the illness had been brought inside the tower. Lillith and then Hithu, both became ill. Hithu’s father, seeing that his beloved daughter was on her last breaths, took her out to the middle of the sea. He screamed for the water god to come, to see his beautiful daughter. Because surely a trade could be made. When the water god, Isil, rose from the sea, he was infatuated with her the moment he saw her. Love at first sight.” That was the part Lenny rolled her eyes at when Gran told the story. Thinking on it made her smile, though the story was taking its turn for the worse.
“The water god told the king to put Hithu into the ocean and he would save her, but she would never be able to return to land again. And the king would never see his daughter. For this trade, the water god would grant Dahleigh good weather and a bounty of fish for the season every year. Desperate for her to live and for his kingdom to survive, even if it meant Hithu would be a mermaid, the king kissed his daughter and placed her into the sea. She sunk below and was changed, saved. The king sat in his boat and watched the sun set. As the end of the day drew near, Hithu swam to the surface, before the last remaining memories of her life before becoming a mermaid were taken, and jumped out of the water, tail and all.”
“And her father saw her one last time,” Lord Ivor finished it. “Dahleigh has enjoyed fine weather for the fishing season and the best fishing in all of Amaria ever since.”
“It’s my favorite story,” Lenny said.
“Do you believe it?”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she replied. “My brother is there, in the sea. I want to believe Hithu watches over him. And I suppose I believe there was magic in Dahleigh, but there’s no evidence of its existence now. My gran’s people believe in it still.”
“She’s from Crail?” he asked.
“How did you know that?” Lenny demanded.
“She told me.” He smiled.
“At the engagement party?” Lenny questioned him, knowing Gran hadn’t come to the engagement party.
“No,” he answered but offered no explanation.
“How is it you seem to know so much?” Lenny wasn't certain why this bothered her but it did.
“You are so suspicious of me, Lenny.”
“I don’t know you well enough for us to be having such intimate conversations all the time, and yet I can’t seem to stop myself.” Lenny scowled.
“And I am to blame for that?” He fought a grin. “That you feel comfortable with me? It's my fault.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Lenny grew flustered, not certain of what she was saying either. “You act as though you know me, and for some reason you feel permitted to instruct me. Constantly!” She got louder. “You have an opinion on everything I say or do.”
“That’s called conversation.”
“No. When you found me at the gates, you embraced me, yet we have only met a few times.” Lenny stepped closer, lifting her head to stare right into his twinkling eyes.
“I was kind, therefore I must have something up my sleeve?” He laughed bitterly.
“No, it’s the unfavorable smugness displayed on your face whenever you mock me. A twinkle in your eyes as if to laugh at me. Not that it matters, we are nothing to one another. So I suppose you are permitted to laugh at me all you like. Good day, my lord.” She spun on her heel and strode from the church with all the insolence she possessed.
“Perhaps, you will wait a moment and permit me a defense of the faults you have accused me of.” Lord Ivor walked behind her quickly, catching her with few steps as his gait was much wider than hers. He stepped in front of her, forbidding her to pass.
“How does one justify or defend faults in character?” Lenny asked with a laugh. “And why would you want to? Why do you care if I approve of you? Why are you always acting like we are acquainted beyond what we are?” She wanted him to confess he was her mother’s puppet in an engagement scheme.
“Because I feel it too. There’s a comfort that I—I mean—I would like to know you better. I want you to know me. I believe I was trying to ensure you understood that. Apparently, I have failed, and even worse, insulted you while doing it.” He blushed and seemed to struggle with his next words, “The—the truth is, embarrassing as this might be,” he appeared ashamed but met her gaze, “I—I do not know how to behave around a young woman such as yourself. You have me on my toes constantly, uncertain of the ground beneath me.” He furrowed his brow, speaking softly, “Uncertain if there is even ground there at all when you are around.”
Lenny swallowed the words she might say, certain he was being serious, and she couldn’t be cruel to him for that. But she continued to question his motives.
“Your disdain for my behavior is perhaps a misinterpretation of my actions and, I hope, of my character.”
Responses fluttered about in her flustered mind but saying them would be rude.
“I have read this all wrong and believed you were aware of my intentions toward you.” He sighed, seeming confused. “I thought you were playing along with the game of courtship. The usual flirting and whatnot.” He winced when he said the last word, pausing and staring through her.
“Have you spoken to my mother?” She went for the jugular.
His eyebrows lifted and he pressed his lips together, nodding once.
“As I suspected.” The questions Lenny had been wondering about were all answered in that nod. “Our mother wants nothing more than to sell my sisters and me off to the highest bidders, and unfortunately for her, I have not been much of a prize. I understand being the future queen’s sister, perha
ps changes things—”
His eyes widened. “You misunderstand—”
“It doesn't matter. I do not know you well enough to discern whether my sister’s place in court drives the feelings you confess having for me, or if they exist at all.” Lenny was blunt. She didn't see the point in pussyfooting about, but she did try not to be rude. “Lord Ivor, I am a dock rat with limited experience in games and whatever engagement my mother hopes to arrange for me. And you are a lord, with expectations placed upon you. I understand the pressure you must feel to secure a wife of a certain type.” She offered a soft smile, trying to ease the firmness of her statement. “I saw this—you as nothing more than a friend at most, but more likely as a relation to my sister’s new family. And I have no wish to find a husband here at court, or at all.”
He paled, losing the blush on his cheeks. His lips parted indicating he might speak, but it took several seconds for anything to come out, “I have offended you. I am so sorry.” He pinched his brow, swallowing hard. “But if the offer were still on the table, I would genuinely like to be your friend.”
“And I would like that very much.” She nodded.
“May I offer you a tour of the docks? As friends? Dock rat to lord?” he joked weakly and held his hands out, as if to show he had nothing up his sleeves.
She wanted to leave and pretend none of this had happened, but she’d offered friendship and that would not only be rude, it would make her offer disingenuous. “Will Henry be joining us?” she asked with a smile, hoping to settle the tension she hadn’t meant to create. Lenny’s mother was obviously behind all this, and Lenny felt more fury at the idea of her meddling in her life than anything else. It was much like Wilf’s marriage.
“He wouldn’t miss it for the world. Let’s fetch him.” He offered his arm but paused, making an odd face, perhaps a confused grin, before nodding and continuing on. “My rooms are this way.” He pointed and walked along the corridor to the grand staircase.
“Where are we now? I think I might be lost,” Lenny confessed.
“Then it’s lucky I grew up here. We’re in the north side of the western wing where the library, chapel, and the king’s private parlor are situated. The ballroom is directly below us but extends beyond this area.” He lifted a hand to the painting. “You can tell which wing you are in by the frames. The western wing has only gold embossed frames. Your rooms are in the south side of the western wing, that way.” He pointed at the wall and hallway next to them.
“You do know your way around.”
“No one knows this castle as well as I do,” he said confidently.
“Not even the servants?” Lenny challenged him.
“Absolutely not.” He scoffed. “They’re terrified of my uncle, so they stay where they ought to. Not to mention, the place is thought haunted in some spots, and they have refused to enter those areas for some time now.”
“What could possibly—” Lenny paused. “A servant died, didn’t they?”
“Yes, a girl named Lottie. Young and pretty. A scullery maid. I was fond of her.”
“How?” Lenny asked.
“No one knows. She was found dead with dirty hands and no clothing, quite strange. Her body was pale, as though it had no blood left in it. The servants whispered that one of the ghosts scared the life from her.” Lord Ivor wrinkled his nose recalling it. “Not sure how the ghost managed to undress her.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It was,” he agreed, gazing at her, wishing he might be able to say the things he wanted so badly to, but certain Lenny would never believe him. “She died when I was seven and it’s been years. Nevertheless, I recall it with perfect recollection.”
“How much older than the prince are you?”
“Eight years. I am twenty-four on my next birthday.”
“Why are you not eligible to be king in his stead?” Lenny asked breathlessly, walking quickly to keep up to his pace, all the while holding her injured arm. “He is young and unwell.”
“I am next in line, after Landon. But he is not so unwell that he cannot be king. And if he manages to father a son, gods willing, before he dies, the burden will pass to his son.” He sighed. “If I could only be so lucky.”
“And if he has no sons?”
“Then it passes to me. And my sons. And if I have no sons when I die, our cousin Andrew, who is currently nine years old and would rather play with wooden swords than worry about being king.” He joked but there was an unmistakable tone.
“You don’t want to be king?” Lenny stopped walking, forcing him to pause. She took a deep breath, holding her arm.
“I’m walking too fast for you.” He groaned. “Is that to be added to the list of disdainful character traits?”
“Yes!” She gasped. “Being too tall is certainly added.” She laughed, placing a hand against the wall to rest there, though they were in the darker part of the corridor, which could be considered inappropriate. But her head was spinning with details and awkwardness and now a friendship made from her mother’s meddling. “I am tired from the journey, that’s all. But you changed the subject—do you not want to be king?”
“No,” he said as if it were the greatest relief to let that out. “Gods be kind to me, I will never be so much as an advisor to that throne.”
“But it’s your family profession. Imagine my brother had turned down my father when he offered to give him his first ship? What a strange notion.” Clearly, he had no idea what it was like to be the child who couldn't work in the family business because of his sex.
“It’s not the same, Lenny. I assure you. Being a fisherman on the sea, breathing freely and making small decisions is akin to a vacation from the crown and even this city.” He folded his arms and leaned against the wall across from her, lowering his voice more. “You have no idea what this place can do to a person.”
“Living in a castle run by servants is hard, is it?” She lifted an eyebrow, mocking him a little. “I see it would be difficult to decide how to spend the afternoons some days. There are too many options,” she said cheekily, hoping the conversation stayed light and didn't dare venture back to her mother’s plot.
“It’s not what you think. In the city you have the businesses run by old families with great wealth. They have created the system to benefit them in the way that keeps them profitable. Any disturbance in that, and the mutiny begins. Suddenly, there are rumors of the king’s health, mental state, and conflicts in his home. Lies spread about deals the king is making behind the backs of the people in power, convincing anyone they need to of betrayal at the king’s hand.”
“That can’t be true. Why agree to the monarchy if you have no intention of allowing the king to rule?”
“You are too smart for the ruling class.” He laughed. “Common sense does not belong with politics. They are mortal enemies. Surely, if there is a simple answer or an uncomplicated solution to any given problem, a politician wouldn’t be able to see it despite it being as plain as the nose on his face.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even the magistrate in our small town listens to reason.”
“Hence, his being in a small town. He would drown in a place such as this.”
“So the king must rule the entire kingdom while worrying about the industrialists and financiers of the city stabbing him in the back?” She was confused as to how that could possibly be effective.
“And that is merely the businessmen. Then you have to worry about the houses that are nearly your equal, for certain they are always vying for more power, calculating their moves. They spend their days and nights plotting, ensuring they’re marrying a daughter to solidify a link to the courts and win favor with the king. Ensuring sons are courting the daughters of the most important families. Money is everything until only family connection and power will save you. So you must have both. Marriages are a business agreement. There is no love here. It’s exhausting.” He started walking again, slower this time.
> “That sounds exhausting and complicated and inefficient,” Lenny agreed but also wondered how he could be so hypocritical of the very system he had nearly asked to court her under to please her mother and whoever his people were.
“It’s why I’m hopeful your sister and my cousin will make a happy couple in the time he has left, and they will be fruitful,” Lord Ivor joked.
“Now that you’ve told me all this, you have to admit that’s a dreadful thing to wish on my sister,” Lenny pointed out, also smiling.
“That is your mother’s doing.” He shrugged. “She’s from here. A friend of the queen and an agreement made sixteen years ago. Nothing can be undone here.” He led her down another set of stairs to a long corridor where the light of the day filtered in tall, narrow windows that ran along the hallway. There was a courtyard and gardens beyond them.
“Speaking of old relations here, is there a rumor in the city of the king having a bastard son? He would be about eighteen.” Lenny grinned when she asked it but Lord Ivor did not when he answered.
“That is treasonous to say. You must never speak on it again.” He stopped walking and stared down on her, his expression severe and his voice a whisper, “Please, Lenny, promise me you will never speak on this again. The halls have eyes and the shadows have ears. You have no friends at court and your sister is vulnerable, even with your mother’s friendship to the queen.”
“I-I-I didn't mean to offend,” Lenny stumbled on her words.
“Of course you didn't. You have no idea what life is like here. Your mother ensured you lived as far from the courts as you could, protected in case it ever came to light they intended to marry Hilde to the crown prince.” He softened his tone but continued in a whisper, “Everything here is planned, plotted, and carefully executed. Including wayward or disgruntled citizens.” He flashed emotion in his gaze that Lenny mistook for anger, but she realized it was fear. “I am your friend.” He lifted his hands to her arms, holding her in place. “Trust no one else.”
Lenny nodded but she wondered how much of that was the truth.
