by Elle Clouse
To her relief, the first course arrived then, and the dining hall was filled with small talk and the clink of silverware.
“What a treat it was to hear from your father,” the king said as he picked up his spoon to eat the autumn harvest soup in front of him. Kiera copied his actions. The place setting was much simpler than it had been during Mrs. Higganbotham’s lesson. “I look forward to your union with my son. It will strengthen the family to have this alliance renewed. You will add good blood to the line.”
Kiera smiled politely and didn’t let herself get insulted by the comparison to livestock. It had been a long time since she had last seen the king, and the years had not been kind to him. His once salt-and-pepper hair had bleached to a wispy white, his eyes lacked his usual spark, and his skin was pallid. No wonder her bizarre request had been accepted. It was obvious to anyone that he didn’t have long before he passed on. “I’m glad your highness thinks well of me.”
“You’re a lovely young woman, Fedelma. You will make a fine queen.” He patted her hand. “Ian is pleased to have you for his wife.”
Ian sipped his soup, his expression bland. Kiera made a note to learn how to conceal her thoughts as well. Since their introduction in the courtyard, he had betrayed not a single emotional response. That, she thought wryly, would be a difficult trick to learn. She’d grown used to voicing her opinions whenever she wanted, even if it earned her nothing more than sighs and eye-rolls. That wasn’t something she could do here. Not yet, at least.
“Don’t you just love autumn, Fedelma?” The king set his spoon aside. “Fedelma?”
Kiera started back to herself and blushed. She’d almost forgotten who she was pretending to be. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed her momentary lapse. Brogan was busy chatting with the young woman beside him. Brigid and Erann were having a quiet conversation and for once not drawing attention to themselves.
Ian was watching her, though, an odd expression on his face. Hastily, she he turned her attention back to the king. “Yes, I love the colors. A pity we don’t have quite the same thing at home. Too much pine.”
“The color change here is breathtaking.” The king nodded.
Servants removed the empty soup bowls and replaced them with plates bearing whole-roasted, small game birds. “Ian, the ceremony should take place soon, when the colors are at their brightest. Won't that be lovely?”
“Of course, Father.” It was the first thing Kiera had heard Ian say outside of their formal introduction. The king smiled and started on his main course.
Kiera didn’t have much of an appetite, but it would be rude not to at least sample every course of her meal. She managed a few small bites, then pushed the remaining pieces around her plate and listened to the flow of conversation around her. She waited until it reached a natural lull, then said, “King Roudri, if I may ask, who maintains the royal library?”
The king set his fork on his plate. “The last archivist we had was years ago, back when the boys required a tutor. Tomas Clark, I think his name was. He had an accident a few years ago. The position has been difficult to fill since. My youngest son is in charge of finding a replacement, but there seem to be so few qualified to take on the responsibility.” He picked up his wineglass. “Have a mind for books, eh?”
Kiera could only nod. A sudden lump rose to her throat, and she looked down at her plate to hide her expression. She hadn’t been prepared to hear her father’s name again.
Midmeal, a young man in a cleric’s robe entered the dining hall. He took the empty seat next to Ian and allowed the servants to scramble around getting him a place setting and the current course of the meal. Kiera’s heart raced. The family resemblance was uncanny: more copper-brown hair and a dashing smile, but he was not Lachlan.
“Ah, Ayden.” The king motioned to the newcomer. “Princess Fedelma, my youngest son. He’s joined the temple.” Kiera grinned at the obvious statement.
“A pleasure,” Ayden said, his voice smooth. He looked her over, his gaze lingering a little too long below her face. Unease fluttered in her stomach. “My soon-to-be sister. Aren’t you quaint?”
Kiera lifted her chin. “My lord,” she said stiffly.
Ayden motioned for a servant to fill his wineglass. He was taller than Ian and leaner, almost too lean. His face had the sharpness of a blade. He raised his glass. “To Princess Fedelma,” he proclaimed, his mouth twisted in a smile. “May you bear many fine children.”
Ian smiled, though not kindly. Everyone else at the table, clearly caught unawares by the impromptu toast, raised their glasses in a confused clatter, but from the looks on their faces, Kiera could tell that most of them hadn’t heard Ayden’s words. The few women within earshot wore looks of distaste. A few of them glanced her way with what seemed to be pity.
“Yes,” the king mumbled, his glass never raised. “I would like to see my grandchildren before I pass on. It’s too bad that we couldn’t find a wife for Lachlan.”
Her heart beat hard. This was the first time since she’d arrived that anyone had spoken of him. She didn’t miss the glance Ian and Ayden exchanged at the mention of his name. “Your eldest son, correct? Is he not here today?”
Ayden took a bite of his game hen, then frowned and motioned for the servants to replace it. Once a new plate had been set in front of him, he shielded his mouth with a hand and leaned forward. “Lachlan went away several years ago,” he explained in a whisper that only Kiera could hear. “Studying abroad. We don’t mention it around here. Father’s never really accepted it.”
Kiera hadn’t expected that. “When will he return?”
“Oh, he’s been known to pop around for a howl.” Ayden glanced at Ian and smirked. “But we won't be seeing hide nor hair of him anytime soon.”
Both brothers laughed. Kiera didn’t understand. An inside joke, perhaps. She let it drop and nudged at her dish with her fork.
The king was mumbling about what a baby’s name should be if it were a boy. “But what if the baby is a girl? Fedelma? What would you name your daughter?”
Before Kiera could reply, Ayden cut in. “Father, you’ve been up all day. You must be tired from having to greet and entertain our guests. Why don’t you turn in for the night?”
The king closed his eyes and nodded. Ayden motioned, and one of the footmen standing against the wall came forward. It was Flann. Kiera recognized him immediately; he hadn’t changed one bit. He still wore his hair short, no sign of salt in the pepper color.
Flann put a hand on the king’s shoulder and bent down to murmur something in his ear. The king blinked awake. He seemed disoriented, but he allowed Flann to help him to his feet and lead him out of the dining hall, leaving Kiera alone at the head of the table with the king’s sons.
Kiera watched them go with dread. The last thing she wanted to do was talk with the princes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brogan glance her way in concern, but she gave her head a tiny shake. She didn’t like them, but she needed to act like a princess. She would have to deal with them on her own.
“Let’s get some things established before we continue with this,” Ian said suddenly. He moved to the king’s vacated seat, and Ayden moved into the chair where Ian had been sitting. “You will be my wife, you will only speak when spoken to, you will lie with me whenever I want, and you will bear me many sons. You will not concern yourself with a library or anything else I deem unfitting. Do you understand?”
Kiera clenched her jaw against a quick retort. His tone of voice was calm and even, but one glance at his face convinced her this was not something to fight him on right now. There was a threat in his eyes.
She took a deep breath and forced out a mirthless smile. “Of course.”
“Good.” His gaze lingered on her face. “What beautiful eyes you have. What a lovely shade of blue...”
Kiera didn’t dare look away.
Abruptly, he sat back in his seat and smiled. “How was the corn harvest in Siomha this year?”
&
nbsp; He was testing her. The Siohma family dealt in wheat, hops, and barley. Kiera thanked the gods she had done her due diligence with her research.
“The wheat harvest was very good this year,” she corrected. “The rains were in our favor this summer.”
“And did your brother enjoy his time studying at the Talesin University?”
Another trick question.
“He decided to stay and apprentice under my uncle.” She kept her tone level. Let them test her all they wanted. She had memorized everything in the library about Siomha. There was nothing she didn’t know.
“So he did.” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze roaming over the room. “I supposed it’s too much to hope that he will be able to make it here in time for your wedding. I know how far Siomha is from Cearbhall. A pity none of your family could accompany you on your journey. The wedding is in a week. The preparations have already been made. You may inspect the dress in the morning to see if it pleases you.”
With one conversation, Ian had revealed himself as bigoted chauvinist. What had she gotten herself into? Was access to the royal library worth putting up with Ian? Was this development the turning point? Was it time to bail on the plan?
The rest of the meal was quiet. The brothers engaged in some small talk about some local happenings but didn’t address her again, and the rest of the guests talked amongst themselves. If someone tried to engage her in conversation, she didn’t notice.
Dinner wound down, and talk arose of adjourning to the parlor for games and tea. Kiera waited until she saw the first couple duck out, then excused herself. Thankfully, Erann and Brigid noticed her rise and took their leave as well. She caught Brogan’s eye and tilted her head a fraction of an inch to indicate that she was leaving. Brogan’s eyes flickered to the head of the table, where both brothers still sat, then back to her. He nodded.
Kiera held herself with rigid calm all the way back to their suite. Once they were inside and the door locked, she exploded. “What a pig! What a selfish bastard. I am not a brood mare.”
Erann and Brigid looked alarmed. “Kiera?” Brigid said timidly.
Snarling, she felt like punching the next man she saw. “I swear, if it wasn’t for the library, we would be going home right now.”
“You and your fool books.” Erann threw herself down on one of the couches, arms draped over the sides. “You’ve got a prince and a wardrobe like that, and the thing that’s keeping you here is the books?”
“Knowledge is the only thing that can’t be take away from you. Everything else can be taken away. So I for one want to learn as much as I can, and that library is the one place I can learn as much as I want. And I’ll have to put up with that jerk to do it.”
Brigid smiled. “Isn’t that the definition of marriage? Having to put up with a little prick?” Erann cackled.
Kiera flushed. “You and your crude humor. How was your evening?”
“Boring,” she proclaimed. “All small talk and niceties. I was hoping to hear some really juicy gossip, but all they talked about was the weather or the wedding or their damned needlework. I don’t suppose we can go anywhere fun tonight?” she added hopefully.
“Absolutely not. We are noble ladies, and ladies do not go out in the evenings without their escorts. If you didn’t notice, Brogan stayed behind. Hopefully, he can do his thing and see how we really stand with this scheme. You know, charm the details out of some lady.”
“What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Brigid demanded.
Erann smirked. “Don’t worry. I brought the fun with me.” She reached beneath her petticoats and, with a flourish, pulled out a full bottle of wine.
Brigid whooped. Kiera pressed her lips together, trying to look dismayed, but it was impossible. She clutched her sides and laughed until tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to know how you carried that all the way from the dining hall,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Did you manage to fit three wineglasses somewhere in there as well?”
Erann grinned and uncorked the wine.
LATER THAT NIGHT, KIERA lay in her bed beneath layers of fine sheets and an exquisite coverlet and stared up at the canopy, unable to fall asleep. Exhaustion pulled at her whole body, but thoughts clouded her mind and would not let her rest.
Lachlan was gone, the king was senile and ailing, and Ian and Ayden were selfish pigs. Things were worse than she remembered. Was this really going to be worth it?
Tomorrow, she decided, she would sneak into the library. If she was caught, it could ruin their entire con, but if she was going to marry Ian, she had to see her prize first.
She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. She had left the balcony open, and the sound of chirping crickets blanketed the sleeping castle. An autumn breeze blew in, smelling of harvest and hay. It was as if she had been transported back in time. She could almost hear her parents snoring in bed as her father’s cottage creaked all around them.
She was just about to fall asleep when a wolf howled in the distance.
She sat up, instantly alert. Kiera had never heard a wolf around Cearbhall before. She slipped out of bed, grabbed her shawl, and went to the balcony door.
A waxing half-moon hung in the clear night sky; silver moonlight rained down on the surrounding forest and village. From where she stood, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Everything was peaceful and perfect.
The wolf howled again.
A chill ran down her spine. The howl was more than just a sound carried on the wind. She couldn’t have said how she knew, but she sensed meaning in the cry, an emotion that she couldn’t pinpoint. Sorrow, perhaps, or loneliness. A profound sense of loss swept through her. The wolf howled again and again.
It was a while before she moved from the window, the feeling of desolation ringing in her long after the wolf had fallen silent. She closed the balcony door, climbed into bed, pulled her sheets over her, and closed her eyes, but even so, the sound continued to echo in her mind.
Chapter 5
The wedding dress was the most expensive thing Kiera had ever seen.
“Princess?” the seamstress asked.
Kiera came to her senses and looked up. “It’s lovely.” She returned her gaze to the dress. It had an empire waist and long sleeves that shimmered and billowed all the way to the floor. Silver and precious stones adorned the white silk. The train stretched behind her, and both it and the sheer veil sparkled at the edges with embroidered lace. This dress could feed five families for a year, but she didn’t want to sound too impressed. “It will do.”
The seamstress smiled in relief and began to undo the million small buttons down the back that she would never be able to fasten herself. As beautiful as the dress looked, it was a relief to slip out of it. She stepped behind the changing screen, where Erann and Brigid were waiting to help her back into her cornflower-blue gown, leaving the seamstress and her assistants to pack up the dress and their supplies and excuse themselves from her suite.
Kiera had just finished dressing when there was a knock at her door. She returned to the main sitting area. “Enter,” she said, then bit back a sigh as the wedding planner came in.
Going over the details—or rather just being informed of them, because she wasn’t authorized to make changes at this point—took almost the entire day. She had to learn the symbolism of the chosen flowers, the tradition behind the wedding feast, and memorize all of the Cearbhall kings back to the founding generation.
By the time they wrapped up, an hour remained until dinner. Erann and Brigid had left a while ago to see what they could learn from the house servants, and Brogan was with Phelan getting information from the stablehands. So Kiera sneaked out of her chambers in search of the library.
She could have asked any servant the way. Instead she chose to wander through the halls, noting the familiar rooms, the paintings and tapestries, the suits of ancient armor on display. She took her time, letting the memories trickle back one by one until she arrived at her destination.
The door was unlocked. She slipped inside, closed the door behind her, then turned around and gasped. The library wasn’t even a quarter of the size of the imperial library in the capitol. Either her memories were playing her false or her perspective had changed. It had seemed much larger to her as a child.
The air was stale and musty, and a thick layer of dust lay over every surface. It looked as though no one had been there for a very long time. Lachlan must have left long ago for the library to be so neglected; he had loved to read and would never let the library fall into such a sad state. The thought sent a pang of sorrow through her, but she pushed it away almost at once. It wouldn’t do to think of Lachlan now, not when she was set to wed his brother and Lachlan was nowhere to be found.
She walked down the aisles, inspecting the titles that lined the shelves. Most were older volumes. The histories section had not been updated since she’d left fifteen years ago. The map section was just as outdated. Kiera would have to order a lot of new books just to bring the library up to modern times. That is, if Ian allowed her, she reminded herself. She grimaced. Well, even if he didn’t, she would find a way.
As she reached the center of the library, she saw the writing desk where her father had given her and Lachlan lessons. A quill and an ink bottle, long dried out, still sat on the table.
She ran a hand down the smooth, cool wood. Her skin remembered the feel of the desk as if she had sat at it only the day before. If she closed her eyes, she thought she could hear her father’s deep, warm voice posing a question and Lachlan’s high, youthful voice responding. The memories were hazy, clouded with time, and she smiled sadly at the desk. Maybe no one visited the library anymore because it reminded them too much of Lachlan. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
She blinked some dust out of her eye and moved on.
As with the rest of the library, the reference section was out-of-date and dust-covered. She scanned the titles, then hissed in disappointment. All books regarding magic were absent. The magic purge hadn’t missed Cearbhall after all.
