Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
A s it turned out, the Abundance Feast was a much smaller affair than the Winter Jubilee had been, thank the heavens. I was uncomfortable enough in this crowd of eighty or so people, but it was a lot less intimidating than a crowd of a thousand where any one of them could have recognized me from a few nights before. Dressed now with my hair in a thick braid down my back and my new falconer's uniform, I highly doubted that anyone would recognize me.
Then again, I seemed to be the only “servant” in attendance that wasn’t actually working.
Shit. What was going on?
Duncan's eyes landed on me as I stepped into the room, and it took all I had not to fidget. Okay, maybe one person would recognize me.
Still, it seemed as if I wouldn't have to worry about much on that front, as he was across the table, and I was quickly wedged between the sorcerer Relyk who had the king on his other side, and a chatty, well-dressed merchant couple named the Faradays. They looked cut from the same cloth as if they were siblings instead of a married couple, with light brown hair, the same-colored clothing—a deep burnt orange—and ruddy cheeks from imbibing far too much already.
Currently, they prattled on about how much they dreaded full winter coming because it meant constant whining from the poor about the price of coal and firewood.
“’Why does the crown need to tax such items?’ they ask me. I tell them straight out…there were many a monarch in centuries past who kept all the coal for himself instead of allowing the poor to purchase it at all,” Mr. Faraday said, as he forked up a fat glistening sausage and held it near his gaping maw. “They just don't know how good they have it.”
Mrs. Faraday nodded as she pushed a pile of carrots around her plate aimlessly, her nose wrinkled. “Entitlement. That's the thing of it, isn't it? You give them coal, and next they want furs. You give them furs, and then they'll want diamonds. It’s a slippery slope, and I for one am glad we are not stepping upon it.”
I nearly chewed my tongue bloody to stay silent, but that was almost too much.
What the fuck would the poor do with diamonds other than sell them for coal or firewood? Jewels certainly wouldn't keep you warm at night.
“Our new falconer comes from humble beginnings herself, don't you, Ella? I'd love to hear your perspective on this matter of diplomacy,” Relyk said, watching me down the length of his narrow nose. He looked tired again. Exhausted even, but that didn’t make him any less imposing—I’d seen his power as a Whisper, and I was not so stupid as to challenge him.
What was it about him that he always made me feel like I was under a microscope? Moreover, was it just me, or was it that way with anyone new to the palace?
Then again, maybe it was my guilty conscience making me paranoid. His king had almost been murdered a few nights ago. He had the right to ask questions as he saw fit.
I spared a glance at said king, who was propped up at the head of the table, looking even worse than he had at the hunt the day before. A fly buzzed around him before landing on his cheek, but he didn't even raise a hand to wave it away. Instead, his head lolled to the side. If his bleary eyes weren't open and blinking, I might have thought he was asleep.
“Ella?” the sorcerer pressed, pulling me back to the conversation.
“I’m sorry. Y-yes…” I dabbed my upper lip with a napkin and before setting it on the table, doing my best to consider what might pass for diplomatic. “Well, I do think there's a fine line between being a benevolent king and allowing your people to walk all over you,” I said, fighting not to grit my teeth the whole time. “What do you think, Your Majesty?”
I don't know what made me dare to speak to the king directly. It was part morbid curiosity about the way his head lolled, and part defiance. Relyk reached out a surreptitious hand and touched the king's ring briefly. It was only when the sorcerer turned his head that I noticed a bald spot in his otherwise thick mane of gray locks.
Strange…
“His Majesty is rather tired and—” Relyk broke off as the king cut in, suddenly pepping up.
“I think those questioning the crown’s taxation policies are lucky the Faradays didn’t report them for treason.” Heinrich’s teeth flashed in something more like the baring of teeth than a smile, his eyes swinging the full force of his ire past me. “And on that note…why didn’t you report them, Philip?”
The clink of glasses and the low, amiable chatter directly around us came to a halt, and Philip Faraday stiffened beside me. His Adam's apple bobbed beneath his cravat, and he cleared his throat. “Well, Your Majesty, I certainly would have, had he continued, but I set him straight immediately, and he saw the error of his ways. If I had any inkling otherwise, of course I would have notified the authorities immediately.”
Mrs. Faraday bobbed her head like a pigeon. “He certainly would have.”
The king's eyes glittered like two chips of pale-blue ice as he studied Mr. Faraday, clearly relishing the other man's floundering in a way that sent a chill down the back of my neck. Worse? He turned those ice chips on me.
“Since we're gathering opinions around the table tonight, what does our new falconer think? If you heard someone disparaging the policies of your liege, would you keep it to yourself?” He raised his voice as he gazed around the table, and the room grew even quieter. “Are there others here who would keep such potentially damaging secrets from me? Mayhap, that's how I wound up with a hole in my chest.”
My hands grew clammy as I stayed silent and still, hoping he'd forgotten that he'd asked me a question.
“We're all waiting to hear your opinion.”
So much for being forgotten.
I cleared my throat and nodded—I did not want anyone losing their heads because I had brought the king into this conversation like a fool. “I think anyone who poses a credible threat to the crown should be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. As for paupers who are cold or hungry during lean times, an errant word gets spoken here or there in a moment of weakness. And I'm sure staunch supporters of the crown like the Faradays were able to recognize the difference.”
The sorcerer's eyes drilled into me, but I kept my gaze trained on the king, head slightly lowered in deference. This could really go either way, and I was preparing myself for the worst, ready to be released from my position, or potentially cuffed up the side of the head, depending on Heinrich's whim.
What came, though, was far worse. His voice lowered, husky and…full of something I did not want to hear from him.
Desire.
“I find you fascinating, falconer. Relyk, switch chairs with this woman. I want to get to know her better.”
Twice now, he'd shown more than a passing interest in me, and I didn’t like where this was headed. But there was little I could do in the moment. Neither Relyk or I could defy the king.
I took hold of my wine glass, and pushed my chair back, then stood on shaking legs, trying not to think about Moll and the bruises that still circled her wrists. Tried not to let my fear show, because wouldn't he love that? He probably got off on the terror he inspired in women.
Relyk stood as well and stepped back. He motioned at his chair, as he took mine next to the Faradays. The chatter began again as the tension seemed to leave everybody in the room but me.
I was about to sit down in the offered chair beside King Heinrich when Duncan stood and held up his cup of wine.
“A toast,” he said, looking slightly unsteady on his feet.
I'd been so busy treading water in my little corner, I hadn't noticed that he'd clearly drank more than his share of port already.
“A toast to my brother Heinrich, who has not only survived scurvy on the high seas, but also a number of wooden sword fights that could have ended very poorly for one of us as children, and of course, this most recent attack. We're so glad you survived, Brother.”
He held up his glass high and glanced around the table with a bleary-eyed smile.
“Long live the king!” The others around the table also stood and raised their glasses high and I mimicked the gesture, mumbling the words under my breath.
“Long live the king.” I tossed back my wine, cringing as it raced down my throat, leaving a burning path in its wake. I tried to fight my irritation at Duncan’s sudden appreciation for his brother, focusing instead on thinking up some excuse to explore the castle to see if my plan to follow Fetch into the chutes might work.
I wouldn’t get to Billy or the dungeons today, but I at least had to figure out where the oldest of the O’Donnelly clan was locked away if I had any hopes of completing my mission. With King Heinrich's attentions clearly turned my way, it seemed more imperative than ever to get out of Little Alabaster as soon as possible.
Everybody returned to their seats, and I was just about to take mine when Prince Duncan sidled up beside me.
“Looks like your glass is empty, Falconer,” he called, his voice overly loud in my ear. He leaned and began to pour the plum wine into my glass from a jug. Suddenly he jerked away, letting out a loud chuckle, sending a spray of magenta liquid everywhere and sending my shoulder into the king, nearly knocking us both over. As it was, I just hit the floor fully, landing on my knees, feeling the impact ripple up my body.
Fuck, banging my knees on a marble floor was going to leave some bruises.
“Gods…sorry…seems deeper in my cups than I thought. I'm so sorry, I’ve ruined your jacket. Please, Ella, let me find you something to replace that one,” Duncan mumbled, reaching for me.
He held out a hand and I took it, allowing him to help me stand. I spared a glance at King Heinrich to see how he took me smashing into him, but he was once again sitting propped up against the chair, head lolled to one side, motionless. Was it due to some lingering effect of the wound to his heart?
I turned my attention back to Duncan and nodded. “I’d appreciate it. Excuse me, please,” I added, managing a small smile for the king. “I'll return as soon as I've gotten something clean to wear.”
Duncan led me out of the dining hall and deeper into the palace. Only when he pulled me off to a side room with an open door did I finally let out the breath I'd been holding and my whole body began to shake.
“Are you okay? Were you injured? You’re shaking.” he demanded. His overly loud, boisterous voice suddenly clear as a bell and as solemn as a sermon. “Ella, look at me. I asked if you were all right. Are you hurt?”
I blinked up at him and took a few slow, long breaths. “I'm okay. Just shaken up, that's all.”
His eyes searched my face, seeking answers I didn’t want to give. “I know you don't trust me, and I understand that. My ilk has shown its colors to yours one too many times, I'm sure. But I hope I've proven to you by now that I'm on your side. I need you to believe me when I tell you; you cannot stay here any longer. Relyk has taken an interest in you from the beginning. And now Heinrich's done the same. These men are ruthless. And in spite of the sorcerer's seeming kindness, I can promise you it's a farce.”
For a long moment, I stayed silent, my heart pounding and my mind racing. What could I possibly tell him that wouldn't be putting my life, and, more importantly, Moll's life, in his hands?
“I can’t keep them from you forever. At least tell me how I can help.”
Gods, if only he’d made that offer a few days ago I wouldn’t be in the bind I was now with the O’Donnellys. He liked me or at least desired me. But did that mean I could trust him with the truth? I looked up and stared into his gray eyes.
“If you tell me, I'll tell you,” I said before I could stop myself. His strong throat muscles worked. “You have secrets too.”
He looked away with a low growl, turned and began to pace the room. “You don't know what you're asking.”
“I do know what I'm asking. I'm asking you to trust me first, and then I will trust you. It seems like a fair trade.” I crossed my arms and waited. It was the only way I’d give him the truth...or at least some of it, at any rate.
“Except I'd be putting you in more danger by telling you,” he muttered under his breath.
I was about to reply when a sudden movement just outside the window caught my attention. It took me a second to process what I was seeing—a flash of blue eyes, a glint of a wide mouth and dyed dark hair—but once I did, I nearly keeled over.
What the fuck, Moll?
“What is it?” Duncan asked, moving to follow my gaze. Panicked, I rolled up onto my toes and grabbed him by the back of the neck, turning him toward me.
“Nothing. I just want you to know that I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You saved me from hunting alone with your brother, then saved me from a bear…and now you saved me from having to sit with Heinrich tonight…” I hadn’t planned on doing this now, but I needed the distraction. “I…found this outside my hut. You must’ve dropped it.”
I tugged the gold watch from my pocket and slipped it into his hand.
“What amazing luck,” he said with a low whistle as he stared down at it. “Who could’ve imagined?”
“Right?” We shared a smile and then I let mine slip away as I stepped back. “Duncan, I want to trust you, but I’ve been burned before. I need some time to think it through. But I hear your words, and I’ll heed your warning.” I took another step back and frowned as if a thought just occurred to me. “Can you make my excuses? I’ll sneak out those doors and head home. I think it’s best if I limit my time with both Heinrich and his sorcerer, like you said.”
“Definitely.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, sending a shiver rolling over me. “I’ll walk you back. I don’t like the idea of you out alone at night.”
I shook my head silently to buy myself a moment because my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth at the look of longing in his eyes as they drifted over my face, resting on my lips.
“It will only call more attention to me if we leave together,” I pointed out.
He tipped his head in a reluctant nod. “You’re right. And the more interest I show in you, the more Heinrich will pay attention. You go ahead, I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully, we can have a proper talk then. I want to help you. You just need to tell me how, Ella.”
He ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and then turned on his heel and left the room.
I stood there in a stupor for another ten seconds before my brain rang another warning bell. With a quick glance around to make sure he hadn’t come back into the room, I rushed to the doors that led outside and quietly tugged one open. I tiptoed across the lawn to where I’d spotted the catalyst of my panic.
There, with her body wedged in the middle of a manicured, evergreen shrubbery, right up against the exterior of the castle stood Moll. Her ear was pressed against the glass of one of the dining room windows, eyes pinched shut in concentration.
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising fury so I wouldn’t grab her and shake her till her teeth rattled out of her pretty, stupid head.
“Molly Miller!” I hissed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”