Chapter 17
Zafir kept me up so late reviewing my fabricated story that it was difficult to wake up the next morning.
“Alia, they’ll come for us soon. Get up,” Zafir urged me, jiggling my shoulder.
I mumbled something incoherent that made sense to my sleep-deprived brain but came out as a random string of syllables.
“Come on.” Zafir lugged me off my cot. “You have to get ready.”
I rubbed my eyes and nearly lost my balance. Zafir steadied me and guided me into his study. After setting me on a stool, he went over to pick a potion off his shelf and poured a small amount into a glass. “Here, drink this.”
“Is that your solution for everything? Potions?”
“Most of the time. This one helps with alertness and memory. Take it.”
I obeyed, too tired to protest. He was right; once I drank, my fatigue slipped away and was replaced with energy, focus, and the full recollection of everything we’d discussed when crafting my story. If only Zafir were wrong sometimes—that would be nice.
“Here, wear this.” Zafir handed me a scarlet and gold gown. “It’s traditional Pyrenese colors; it’ll show respect when you go to Parliament.”
“Sounds good to me.” I was about to add that he needed to get out so I could change, but he had already pivoted on his heel and exited. I quickly transferred the hidden potions into my new pair of stockings, glad I could keep my protection within reach.
When Zafir came back in, I noticed that he’d changed too. He was still wearing his usual somber black clothing, but the suit was trimmed with crimson to match my dress.
“How did you put that on without getting tangled in the chain?” I asked curiously. “All my things are strapless so I don’t have to worry, but you…”
Zafir held his arm up to show me how there were strings tucked away. “The sleeves tie on. The wardrobe knows about the chain problem and compensated accordingly.”
“Did it decide to make us matching, as well?”
Zafir looked between our two outfits. “It must have. Now sit down so I can fix your face.”
“You really know how to talk to women, don’t you?”
His facial expression didn’t change. “I talk to women the same way I talk to everyone else.”
“With disparaging remarks and condescension?”
He shrugged. “At least I’m consistent.”
Zafir did my makeup and also knotted my hair into an elegant updo. After quickly adding some jewelry, I finally deemed myself ready just as servants came to escort us to the Parliament building.
The gold-painted walls gleamed so brightly I squinted, and it felt hot enough inside the Parliament chamber to bake bread.
Velvet-cushioned chairs lined the tiered benches before me, each one occupied by a scarlet-robed official.
It looked less like a courtroom and more like a nest of blood-red vultures, all ready and waiting to pounce on their prey and tear me apart with their questions.
I was led to the witness stand and Zafir was forced to follow.
In the center of the room was a brazier filled with leaping blue flames that made the overly warm room even more stifling.
With how blazingly hot the climate in this tzardom was, I would have thought they would try to cool things down but no, they must all be part reptile to love the heat so much.
My gown would soon be drenched through with sweat.
One of the servants came up to Zafir and whispered to him, then listened as Zafir lowered his voice and whispered back with a shake of his head. The servant scampered up to relay the message to one of the Parliament members, who frowned.
I jumped as a gavel cracked against a mahogany desk, and the entire chamber immediately fell silent. The man at the center, withered and ancient, raised his head. “This emergency session of Parliament is now in order. I turn the floor over to Chairwoman Palla.”
A woman with short white hair, drawn-on eyebrows, and a dark-crimson lipstick rose to stand. “State your name and lineage,” she said.
I smoothed my dress and lifted my chin. “I am Lady Alia of House Devraine, Duchess of the Western Marshes in Brisden.”
A hum of whispers rippled through the room as members of Parliament inclined their heads to each other, all speaking in hushed tones and keeping their hands over their mouths.
Chairwoman Palla shuffled a stack of papers. “We have no records of such a duchy, nor of your family name. Can you provide documentation to validate your claim?”
I folded my hands neatly in my lap. “In part. I don’t have any of my original documents, but I did draw up my family tree and other things to help prove who I am.”
“I can vouch for her as well,” Zafir said as he handed the documents over. “I’ve conducted my own extensive questioning over the last two days since she arrived.”
“Normally we would have you take a truth serum before questioning,” Palla went on, “but our vizier informed us that we are out, so you will be required to present documentation unless we can procure more truth serum and conduct additional questioning.”
The tiny bottle of truth serum hidden in my stocking made me want to laugh with relief. Thank goodness I’d swiped it when I had.
There were several minutes of silence as the documents were circulated among the Parliament members.
“You claim to be a duchess,” Palla said slowly. “Yet you come before us as any common foreigner. There was no envoy sent ahead to announce your arrival, and you’re linked with a vow bond to one of our viziers like an ordinary criminal. You can understand our skepticism.”
Her gaze drifted to the glimmering golden chain between Zafir and me. I smiled sweetly. “Ah, yes. Allow me to explain.”
Several Parliament members leaned forward.
“When I first arrived in Pyren,” I began, “your vizier here mistook me for a thief and had me arrested. I can’t entirely blame him; after all, I was quite travel-worn and we had a simple misunderstanding.
Out of concern for your tzardom’s welfare, he wanted to have me questioned.
He was doing his due diligence but we had an”—I glanced at him—“altercation, and he insisted upon the vow bond. After he questioned me, I felt that I needed to be compensated for how I was treated upon my arrival, and he agreed to be my temporary attendant as his way to make amends for the misunderstanding.”
Someone coughed to hide a laugh.
Chairwoman Palla arched a single, penciled brow. “You declared a vizier your servant? That could easily cause great offense, particularly with whom you selected. I find it difficult to imagine Zafir would agree to such a thing.”
“He caused offense to me by accusing me of crimes without any evidence and forcing me into chains when I’d done nothing wrong and didn’t agree to a vow bond in the first place.”
“Now that part sounds exactly like Zafir,” one of the other Parliament members said. He looked perhaps fifty years old, on the younger side of the others sitting around him, and looked vaguely familiar. “My son already told me about Zafir keeping a woman chained to him.”
Ah, so this must be Julian’s father.
“We can arrange for you to have another attendant if you wish,” Julian’s father went on. “I hardly think that Zafir would be a good servant.”
I gave a smile. “Thank you, but I’d rather keep my arrangements as they are. You see, since Zafir was the one who treated me poorly, I think it only fair that he’s the one to make up for it. Besides, he’s rather good at pouring my tea now, and I don’t want his training to go to waste.”
That drew a few chuckles from the benches, though Palla’s lips barely twitched. “What is it that you hope to achieve here in Pyren, exactly? Why did you come?”
“I’m here for assistance,” I said. “You see, I was not sent to Pyren by choice. I was drugged and kidnapped by a political rival. They seemed to think that sending me to Pyren was their best chance of seizing my lands, and they sent me on a cargo ship.”
“It seems their plan worked,” Palla said dryly.
“I believe that if Pyren and Brisden were to cooperate, we could start a powerful political alliance. If you aid me in returning—”
“With all due respect,” Palla interrupted, “we have nothing to gain by aligning ourselves with an exiled duchess. What purpose would be served in us helping you get back to Brisden?”
“Beyond a new, grateful ally, you would gain access to Brisden’s ports, the richest in the western seas. A partnership between our nations could open trade routes that the whole world would envy. I’ll also have the ear of the king once I’m returned and my position is reinstated.”
“A moment to recess, if you please,” one of the older men in Parliament said, then the members all gathered, speaking in a long stream of hisses that I couldn’t catch a word of.
I didn’t dare look at Zafir. I hadn’t said much. Was it enough? It was a big ask and my story was already feeble at best. It would fall apart at the slightest investigation. How often did people from Pyren travel to Brisden?
“Zafir, a moment?” Palla called from the circle, beckoning him over.
Zafir walked sedately over, getting as close to the group as possible without straining our chain.
My heart was hammering within my chest and I focused on the leaping blue flames in the brazier centered in the room.
What would happen if they called my bluff?
I couldn’t be in any worse of a situation than I already was… right?
After several minutes that felt like an eternity in the stifling heat, the Parliament members broke apart and returned to their seats and Zafir crossed to stand at my side once more.
I snuck a glance at his face, but his stony expression was the same as always, and I couldn’t even get a hint at his thoughts.
“We appreciate your trade offer and we sympathize with your plight,” Palla began.
Her tone already sounded dismissive. “But until we have more information, we simply cannot allocate resources to transporting you back to Brisden. Such an undertaking would require chartering a dragon, and as we are still rebuilding after our war with Termarth, we can’t justify the expense.
The distance and expense of travel is already the primary reason we have no trade routes with Brisden.
It’s simply not cost effective, and though I’m sure your territories produce many wonderful goods to export, none would be worth the expense of the trade route. ”
My heart sank. I hadn’t expected them to leap at the chance, but even so… How would I ever get back home? When would I be able to talk to my sister again?
“But…but then what am I supposed to do if I can’t go back home?” I asked uncertainly.
“The parliament will continue to deliberate and we will write to officials in Brisden,” she said. “Until your claim is verified, Zafir recommended that you remain in Pyren under supervision.”
“Supervision?”
She raised an amused eyebrow. “Under his supervision. So it would seem that Zafir is your attendant and supervisor at the same time. We recognize that you’re a displaced citizen in need of aid, and though we can’t give you a private return voyage, we are willing to grant you partial citizenship so you can work as a contributing member of society.
Zafir offered to take you on as an apprentice alchemist.”
I shot a look at Zafir, whose mouth twitched ever so slightly. Was this him having a sense of humor or mocking me? Or both?
“We know it isn’t the same as being a duchess,” Julian’s father added kindly. “But that’s the best we can offer until Brisden verifies your claim. I’m sure you understand our hesitation.”
My smile froze in place. “Of course. Thank you for your generosity while we get the situation worked out.” I rose and curtsied.
The gavel cracked again. “This session is adjourned.”
When we were finally escorted out and I was alone with Zafir again, I leaned closer and whispered, “Apprentice alchemist?”
“It was the best I could do. At least it bought us some time.”
“What’ll we do when they find out I’m not a duchess?”
“Hopefully by that time, you’ll have charmed Julian. I never expected Parliament to fund the voyage. They will hold you at arm’s length and keep you placated until they can prove that you’re not a duchess. We just need enough time for you to—”
“Duchess!” Hurried footsteps came from behind me and both Zafir and I turned to see Julian’s father coming up the path. “Duchess, a moment, please? My name is Rogan.”
“Of course, how may I help you?” I asked with a smile.
“My son wanted me to give this to you,” he puffed, still out of breath from running, handing over a scroll. “He wanted to invite you to the city bazaar tonight.”
Zafir’s upper lip curled slightly. “Why didn’t he deliver it himself?”
Rogan bristled. “He had other important matters to attend to.”
The snort Zafir let out couldn’t have been more disbelieving.
“Thank you,” I told Rogan graciously. “I met your son at the fire dance last night, and he seems wonderful. I’d love to accompany him, and thank you for delivering his message.”
Rogan bowed and left as I unfurled the scroll. “He’s coming at sundown to escort me.”
“Just as he’s escorted a hundred women.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Rogan was out of earshot.
“I’ve wondered if his father uses Julian’s ability to charm women as a political advantage, but that works in our favor.
If Rogan thinks he has something to gain in Brisden, he is likely to encourage Julian’s pursuing you.
That was the goal of masquerading you as a duchess, not to fool all of Parliament permanently. ”
“I would think it’s more of a disadvantage to have everyone think of his son as a rake.”
Zafir’s mouth twitched. “One would think. Just don’t let yourself be taken in.”
“If I start to be swept off my feet, you’ll have to pull on our chain to remind me to not fall head over heels in love with him.”
“I shall.”
Zafir strode back toward his study, dark robes billowing behind him.
Anytime someone saw us coming, they would dart away or duck their head.
I tilted my head at them and then at Zafir.
He wasn’t nearly as scary as everyone seemed to think.
He was just a big sack of hot air hiding behind his black robes and cold facial expressions.
He shot me an annoyed look. “Why are you smiling?”
“I was just thinking that you could also bring a date tonight if you wanted to.”
“I don’t have time for entertaining women,” he retorted. “Unlike Julian, I actually have work to do.”