Chapter 1 #3
To Elowen’s annoyance, Bertrand drew his horse alongside hers as the group began the ride back to the capital.
For most of the two-hour journey, she endured his comments about Sophia’s and her near miss—loaded with the implication that they should have left the whole expedition to the men—and his sly and borderline mocking comments about her upcoming betrothal.
It was a great relief when they reached the capital and he finally peeled away.
Elowen was surprised to find the queen waiting for them the moment they entered the castle’s courtyard.
She’d known she was dancing on the line of earning a reprimand by going with Patrick without asking her parents, but she hadn’t thought her parents would actually be concerned.
She’d hoped they wouldn’t even notice, aware that they were spending much of the day in final preparatory meetings for the Siqualian delegation’s arrival.
Elowen wasn’t included in those meetings. It wasn’t necessary for her to contribute diplomatically to alliance negotiations with the Siqualians. She wasn’t expected to offer anything.
Anything other than her hand in marriage and therefore her entire life.
“Elowen, where have you been?” Queen Lisbeth’s eyes widened as she took in her daughter’s state. “And what have you been doing? You’re covered head to toe in dust!”
Elowen glanced down and realized her mother was right. Her gown was coated in traces of the watchtower’s gray stones.
“Do you tell me you were unaware that Elowen accompanied me?” Patrick asked, his brows drawn together as he cast his sister a disapproving look. “Mother, I apologize. I mistakenly assumed you’d given your consent for her to—”
“I was fine,” Elowen interrupted him impatiently, as she slid from her horse. “I was with you, Patrick, it was hardly dangerous or improper.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You are quick to forget that you were almost crushed to death by falling stone two hours ago.”
“What?” The queen looked aghast, her eyes flying back over Elowen’s form.
“I’m all right, Mother,” Elowen told her quickly. “The tower partially collapsed, and I was closer to it than I ought to have been, but I didn’t suffer any harm, truly.”
“Thanks to the timely intervention of a servant of Bertrand’s,” Patrick interjected.
Elowen glanced around, looking for Simeon. He’d dismounted too far away to hear their conversation, and as she watched, Bertrand approached him, issuing instructions she couldn’t hear.
“Good gracious.” The queen put a hand to her forehead, her manner distracted. Putting that same hand gracefully but insistently on her daughter’s shoulder, she steered her into the castle. “He should be rewarded, of course, and we will speak more of this later, but for the moment—”
“By he, I hope you mean Simeon,” Elowen cut her off.
“Who?” The queen looked lost.
“Simeon,” Elowen repeated. She glanced behind her, but Simeon, Bertrand, and Sophia were all gone. “The servant. Bertrand did nothing deserving a reward.”
“It’s natural for the actions of a servant to be a credit to his master,” Patrick informed her. “It’s appropriate for us to express our thanks to the young man’s employer—in this case, the duke—and it’s for him to appropriately reward the servant in question.”
Elowen gave him an incredulous look. “Who’ll reward him? Have you met Bertrand?”
“Elowen, this is no time to be gossiping about servants in the entranceway,” the queen scolded her. “You must get to your room and change at once!”
“I’ll be glad to,” said Elowen. “But why the hurry, Mother?”
“If you’ll refrain from interrupting me, I’ll tell you,” her mother said crisply. “We received a scout half an hour ago from Prince Theodore’s party. They’ve made unexpectedly good time on their journey and will be with us today. We expect them within the hour.”
“Within the hour?” Elowen froze. “But Mother, the prince isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow!”
“I’m well aware of that,” the queen said. “You picked a poor time to slip off for a dangerous adventure, Elowen. Now up to your room and change!”
“But what about the matter we discussed?” Elowen asked, fighting a feeling of panic. She was supposed to have one more night to collect herself. “You and Father were going to give me an answer at dinner.”
“Never mind that.” The queen made a stately version of a shooing motion. “Make yourself presentable, and meet us in the blue audience room. As quickly as you can, child!”
“But—”
Elowen’s protest was lost as a host of maids appeared, ushering her toward her rooms. She barely had the chance to catch her breath as they stripped her, scrubbed her, and dressed her in one of her finest gowns.
Her hair, free of dust and restored to its usual pale blond silkiness, was brushed to within an inch of its life and styled elaborately on her head.
She wasn’t blind to the effect. She emerged looking beautiful and graceful, but she couldn’t take pleasure in it.
Her thoughts were too snarled up as she tried in vain to adjust to the prince’s imminent arrival.
She’d allowed herself to think of her impending betrothal as a problem for the future for far too long.
Now, suddenly, she was out of time and out of options.
It was as though she could feel her freedom slipping through her fingers like the thin silk of the wrap draped becomingly over her shoulders.
Prince Theodore was almost there. Prince Theodore, a total stranger, would be her betrothed in a matter of days.
She was about to see the face of the man she would wake beside for the rest of her life.
The whole idea was impossible to grasp. What would he be like? She remembered Bertrand’s mocking words.
Rumor says Prince Theodore is the stiff, dull brother.
She’d heard the same rumors, of course. Since whispers of the betrothal had spread, every courtier and servant alike had been eager to repeat to her any information they’d ever heard about Prince Theodore, however garbled it might be.
But all rumors came from somewhere. What if Prince Theodore was as cold and aloof as people said?
Worse, what if he was cruel? A thrill of fear went through her at the thought.
Her parents wouldn’t wish to marry her to someone cruel, but he could easily hide it until the marriage was complete.
Then she would be living in Siqual, away from her family and all her friends.
Even if he stopped short of intentional cruelty, there were other ways she might suffer.
What if she attempted warmth, and he met it with disdain?
What if he made light of their vows and humiliated her with unfaithfulness?
Perhaps he wouldn’t do so openly, out of respect for their alliance, but even privately it would crush her.
What if, whispered a voice, he’s none of those things?
Elowen had dreamed of romance the same as the next girl, in spite of always knowing she was unlikely to be free to pursue it.
Somewhere under the apprehension was a hint of excitement, an optimistic daydream that Prince Theodore might be the opposite of her fears.
Maybe he was the dashing prince, in spite of Bertrand’s snide words.
Maybe he would be warm and charming, with a kind smile and eyes only for her.
Elowen sighed, banishing the thought. No sense in raising her hopes only to have them disappointed. She would be wiser to assume that she was saying goodbye to dreams of romance forever.
She met her own eyes in the mirror, steeling herself. She didn’t want to say goodbye to romance. She may have only minutes left, but at least that was something. She had to convince her parents to give her back a tiny measure of control, little though they might understand her reasons for it.
“Am I done?” she asked the closest maid impatiently. “I wish to join my parents.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” The maid’s eyes shone with excitement. “You’ll be eager to meet the Siqualian prince, I’m sure.” She lowered her voice. “Rumors say that he’s handsome, Your Highness. Tall, and dark-haired, and mysterious.”
Elowen almost snorted at the last word. It was the polite way of saying stiff, she supposed. “Mysterious only because we know so little of him,” she said aloud. “As for handsome, well…I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
She swept from the room, followed by a posse of attendants. When she reached the blue audience room, she dismissed them all. She could tell from the air of poised expectation that the Siqualian group hadn’t arrived yet. She still had time.
“Father, Mother.” She burst into the room, her skirts swirling around her.
“Elowen.” Her mother’s tense posture relaxed as she quickly studied her daughter’s form. “Much better. You look lovely, child.”
Elowen dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, the maids outdid themselves.” Her eyes pinned her father, who was in conversation with Sophia’s father and another man she vaguely recognized.
“Have you thought more about what I asked?” she prompted.
“Elowen.” Her mother spoke reprovingly. “Don’t interrupt your father’s conversation, what will the duke and the guild master think?”
“It’s all right, Lisbeth.” The king raised a hand to the man whose name Elowen didn’t know, directing the next words to him. “I understand your concern, and investigation into the situation will continue.” He looked at the duke. “Do you have anything to add, Your Grace?”
The Duke of Nirocha inclined his head to the king, then turned to the guild master.
“Only my assurance that I am committed to discovering the cause, as His Majesty has requested me to do,” he said.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The guild master didn’t sound reassured.
He wrung his hands, looking stressed. “But Your Majesty, I must tell you that I believe the situation requires urgent attention. If the Dust continues to move unpredictably, there could be a great many implications for all the city’s inhabitants. ”
“I understand,” the king repeated, a note of finality in his voice. “I have placed the matter in the duke’s capable hands, and if you make a time with His Grace, I’m sure he will hear all relevant information you can give him. But I cannot discuss it further at present.”
The man at last accepted his dismissal, bowing to both the king and the duke before allowing the king’s steward to usher him from the room.
“I will begin my own inquiries,” the Duke of Nirocha said quietly to the king. He bowed to Elowen and her mother. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.”
Elowen watched him stride toward the door, momentarily distracted from her purpose.
“What was that about? I recognized that other man. Isn’t he the head of the Craftsmen’s Guild? Is something strange happening with the magic in the city?”
Did Patrick know about whatever it was? Was that why he’d been so tense about Simeon’s account at the watchtower? If so, the issue wasn’t confined to the city.
“Never mind, my dear,” the king said peaceably. “You have more important matters to focus on.”
Elowen frowned, a familiar frustration gripping her at always being kept in the dark over anything important. But then memory returned, and she realized her father was right.
“Yes, I do,” she agreed. “I’m here for your answer to my question, Father, and I need it now, not at dinner.”
“Elowen.” There was a warning note in her mother’s voice.
“I know, Mother, but we’re out of time for subtlety,” Elowen said.
Her mother wasn’t appeased. “You don’t seem to understand how much is at stake for our kingdom, Elowen.
This alliance is important. Do you forget how recently we were on the brink of war with Carrack, the strongest military power on the Peninsula?
And they weren’t the only ones withdrawing from diplomatic relationship with us.
Now that Carrack has an alliance of sorts with Siqual and Dernan, we cannot afford to remain isolated. ”
“I know, Mother,” Elowen said. “But they all know now that we weren’t behind the violence and unrest they were experiencing.”
The king shook his head with a sigh. “It’s not that simple, Elowen. Suspicion settles deeply within a kingdom. Simple facts are often not enough to remove it. Your mother is right. This alliance with Siqual will bring security to our kingdom. Carrack will no longer be a threat.”
“So you must be cooperative, Elowen,” the queen added. “You will, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” Elowen said, a little hurt. “When have I ever failed to do my duty, Mother?”
The queen’s face softened. “Never, of course. You’re a good girl, Elowen. And I know you’ll do our kingdom proud in this alliance. But you must admit that I have cause to remind you of your duty, with all this talk of yours about conditions.”
“Condition, request, I don’t care what you call it,” said Elowen.
“I just want to know whether you’ve decided to grant it.
” Her eyes were back on her father, their expression pleading as they returned to the main point of the conversation.
“I’m going to be completely cooperative with the alliance, I swear. I just want this one concession.”
The king studied his only daughter. “This is truly important to you, Elowen?”
“Very important,” she assured him.
He nodded slowly as he thought it over. “Well, I don’t see any harm in granting the request, Lisbeth.”
Relief flooded Elowen, her future suddenly feeling much more bearable. She didn’t let her mother’s noise of disapproval worry her. The queen might sometimes be impatient with her husband’s overly soft heart toward his children, but she would never actually stand against the king.
“I don’t see the necessity at all,” Queen Lisbeth said half-heartedly.
“And I don’t see the harm,” the king repeated. “It’s not as though I’m in a great hurry to send the child away, Lisbeth.”
“She’s not a child. She’s eighteen, and certainly old enough to be forming a marriage of alliance.” But there was no conviction in the queen’s protest. She’d already resigned herself to the decision.
Elowen had won. And no victory had ever tasted sweeter to her. She could face Prince Theodore with equilibrium now.
A very good thing, too, given that the door to the audience room swung open at that moment to reveal the castle’s steward.
He bowed to his sovereigns. “The prince’s delegation is approaching the castle, Your Majesties.”
Elowen smoothed her gown and took a deep breath. She’d gotten her promise not a moment too soon. It was time to meet her future.