Chapter 53 Only a Matter of Time
~ brEN ~
We stood at the edge of the room with the same band of nobles who’d gathered around us since the first day, led by Faye. Everyone was far more relaxed tonight. They’d known us for days now, and it was growing late, so they’d all imbibed enough to loosen their tongues.
“Tell us about the dragons!” the balding man, whose name I had learned was Garen, spoke up from the side.
He was a true noble, but also odd, so he skirted the edges of this group and held little social power, though the king gave him great influence in discussions of trade, according to Faye.
“How have you managed to avoid being burned to a crisp, Donavyn?”
Donavyn gave a cocky smile, though I felt the stab in his chest and I remembered those scars on his back.
“The dragons see far deeper than our flesh,” he said, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “You needn’t worry about a dragon’s fire if your heart is pure. They measure courage and strength and inner beauty.” Then he looked at me, heat pooling in his gaze in a way that left me breathless.
I dropped my eyes to my clasped hands to pretend I was embarrassed, when in truth my heart hammered. I wished I could take him away from all these eyes and—
“A pure heart is all well and good, but a noble’s generations of powerful blood will win through. When you’re letting a beast do all the work for you, a man can grow lazy. I’d wager I could take you in the boxing ring, Sir!”
Everyone in the circle gaped at Lord Prew, the youngest of them, and the tallest, though he had to be half Donavyn’s weight. He was clearly drunk and seeing double. Even the women looked aghast.
Donavyn’s expression was bemused.
I opened my mouth to warn the arrogant idiot, but Faye clamped a surprisingly strong hand on my forearm and shook her head without taking her wide eyes off the little prick.
Donavyn’s jaw rolled like he tried to stifle laughter. “That may well be true, my Lord. But I wouldn’t dare test your theory. A humble visitor like myself couldn’t offend the king’s graces by laying hands on a citizen of Fyrehold.”
I thought he wasn’t aware of the gaffe as everyone’s eyes snapped to him with shock. But Donavyn took one sip of his drink, then said. “Excuse me—I meant, a nobleman.”
Several of the men spluttered, but the women gasped and tittered, delighted by Donavyn’s casual offense.
The young Lord’s face suffused with red, but wisely, one of his friends drew him away before he could make further deadly challenges, and soon the drama passed.
It was only midnight, which meant this crowd intended to be up for hours yet.
I watched Donavyn’s back as he leaned down to converse with two of the men who were less drunk, but still interested in the dragons, and saw Donavyn grow intent.
I heard someone say Furymaster and prayed he’d gain some insight into how to find the man.
It was very odd that the king seemed to be hiding him.
Leaving him to pursue that with the men, I turned to Faye and asked if she could show me to a water closet—the Fyrehold term for a bathing room. And of course, she was happy to do so.
When we returned, Donavyn wasn’t there, and most of the other men had left as well. To play cards again.
“That is as it should be,” Faye said, fanning herself with her silk fan, her other arm linked in mine.
“We’ll keep you with us—none of us have shared your incredible adventures, Brennan.
My own experience with the dragons was only a few days, after all, though Donavyn did say I showed an aptitude for the work.
Something to do with loose hips being an asset,” she said thoughtfully.
I almost choked swallowing back laughter.
“Still, let’s sit and rest. Let the men do their gambling. Let’s talk. And you can tell us about the other dragon men. I assume those working with dragons are all Furyknights? Have any of them joined you here in Fyrehold?”
“No, no. Only Donavyn—I mean, the General,” I said casually. I’d just settled into a seat next to Faye, the other women crowding closer and leaning in, when I felt that gaze on the side of my face again.
With the men gone, and the women huddled nearby, I had a clearer view of the room.
That gaze came from a part of dark eyes under slicked back hair on the other side of the room.
“The General is very handsome and strong. I had half a mind to urge Prew on. I would have enjoyed watching his face smashed,” one of the younger ladies said with a sniff.
I tried to smile, but I could feel Hanson’s eyes on my neck like the heat from a growing fire, intensifying.
“Donavyn is very aware of his own strength. He would never take the bait to harm a weaker man. He’s too honorable,” I said sincerely, letting my pride and admiration of him show.
Because I was proud of him. He had more character in his little toe than most of these women possessed in their whole bodies.
As if she’d heard my thought, one of the women I’d only met once before, pursed her lips like she’d tasted something sour and glared at me.
“Don’t admire a man so—if you’re easily wooed, it’s the fastest way to lose him.
A man wants to hunt, not simply pluck a ripe fruit from the tree at his elbow,” she said with a sniff.
“Unless, I suppose, you only want to be devoured once,” she added slyly. The women tittered.
I opened my mouth, uncertain whether I should set her down, or pretend concern, but a deep, menacing voice spoke from over my shoulder before I could.
“Perhaps a woman who hasn’t managed to snag herself a husband without trapping him in an unwanted pregnancy shouldn’t be offering advice on what men want?”
Several gasps rose, and a small wave of malicious laughter. The woman’s face turned beet red, then drained of all color as she looked over my shoulder.
Hanson stood, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a drink, his head tilted and eyes gleaming like blades. At her.
“It’s not—” I gasped, but Faye dug an elbow into my rib so sharply, I flinched.
Hanson’s eyes snapped to mine, and he raised his glass. “My Lady Brennan, you should admire whomever you wish, and whenever you choose.” The twist of his lips gave the word a suggestive thrust. But then he stopped smiling. “Don’t let a bitter shrew silence your canary song.”
Then he turned on his heel and walked away. I gaped at him while, around me, the women fluttered and puffed like a flock of birds, some of them horrified, others delighted.
Faye, never one to miss the opportunity to increase her own standing, made loud excuses that we needed to visit the water closet, gripped me by the elbow and dragged me after her.
I protested, but honestly, was relieved to get away. A few of the others followed us, and I was surrounded in primping, laughing women as we walked out of the ballroom and up the hallway to the powder rooms.
“It seems the General isn’t the only one whose attention you’ve captured, Brennan,” one of the women said slyly when we were halfway down the corridor.
“Brennan is the great Commander’s companion, and he is a man of great status.
It’s no surprise that other men would notice her,” Faye said, dropping her chin once, as if I were nothing more than an innocent girl, caught up in the schemes of men and shouldn’t be blamed.
I thought she was being sweet until she leaned into my ear and hissed, “Play this one right—Hanson is the wealthiest Lord in Fyrehold.”
“I’m not—”
“You know, Prew was onto something.”
Everyone looked at the woman with frowns. Until she smiled. “But what we need is a competition more suited to bedsport.”
There was a great shriek of laughter and giggles from the women.
“Do the dragons breed like horses, Brennan? Perhaps you should require Donavyn and Hanson to prove themselves at stud?”
I pretended to be horrified, but these jokes were tame compared to those my brothers made when they weren’t thinking. Except, I didn’t like them talking about Donavyn this way.
“The General is very strong. Seems like he’d know his way around a breeding,” one woman offered.
“Strength only takes a stud so far,” another chortled. “A true stallion impresses himself on his mate.”
Mate.
“Lord Hanson could impress himself upon me any time he wishes,” another woman offered breezily.
I spluttered, but Faye grabbed me again and raised her voice to all of them. “Now, now. Don’t confuse poor Brennan. She’s pure of heart remember.”
“I don’t think purity has much to do with it,” someone muttered behind me.
I rolled my eyes, but Faye leaned into my ear.
“Hanson could certainly provide a lavish stable for a new mare,” she said with a wink.
“But I’d suggest you remain with the honorable General.
Wealth corrupts a man, and I believe Hanson is a true rogue.
The dangerous kind,” she added. “A quiet beast who hides his strength until it’s too late. ”
“But, in the bedroom that’s a good thing.”
More titters and splutters.
“And besides, didn’t you tell us Brennan was gifted in taming beasts?”
“Well, there is that,” Faye said, sending me a mischievous glance from the side.
All the way to the bathing room, they spoke this way—bantering back and forth, arguing over who would win the fight if the two men met in the ring—deciding Donavyn would win hand-to-hand, but because of Hanson’s money and training, he’d win if they used weapons.
I knew they were wrong, but didn’t interrupt. Faye leaned into my ear anytime the women referenced things about Hanson I didn’t know—like, the fact that he still worked his own land, despite being more than wealthy enough to have a land manager.
How he bred horses, so he knew his way with a breeding program.
And the way that, despite his power, Hanson derided the others for letting their wealth go to their heads.
“But none of this matters,” Faye said as we walked back towards the ballroom, raising her voice so the other women would stop talking.
“Brennan already holds the heart of the General—he’s clearly besotted with you,” she said with a wink, though I didn’t miss the glint in her eye.
“In my aged opinion, no woman should give up that kind of devotion.”
I shook my head, pretending insecurity. “We just work closely together—”
“You aren’t in Vosgaarde anymore, Brennan. You won’t be derided here for taking what is offered from a man, even when you aren’t married,” Faye said with a pat on my arm.
“Wellllll,” one of the other woman said dryly, but she was shushed.
“I’m not worried about that. Not really,” I insisted. “I’m simply aware that Donavyn’s devotion to his dragon and his role doesn’t leave room for love.”
The women all stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Dear, who said anything about love?” Their laughter seemed genuine, rather than malicious.
The banter continued, peppered with advice about avoiding certain women who had taken a shine to Donavyn, because they might try to use me to get close to him.
I didn’t miss that Faye remained quiet during that conversation.
But eventually, the women led me to another set of double doors—not the ballroom—and threw them wide, streaming in ahead of me and plopping themselves down on couches and lounges, sighing about aching feet and corsets that needed to be loosened.
I wasn’t sure why we’d come here, but the room was cooler, and I was tired. So, I took a seat in a soft, blue chair and slipped off my shoes under my dress as some of the other women were doing.
But as Faye poured drinks from a sideboard and handed each of us a pale liquor in a small tumbler, I frowned.
I didn’t want to drink. “I think I need to get back to Don—”
“No, no, dear. Don’t worry about your General. He’s with the men. He’ll be very well taken care of,” Faye said loudly.
I didn’t like the looks that several of the women exchanged at that.
“I’m sure he is, but—” I leaned forward to press my complaining toes back into my shoes, then sat up, desperate to get out of that room and feeling a touch reckless. “I’m returning to the ball.”
“No!”
“You’ll only regret it.”
“If Naryn is still there, she’ll have words to say to you,” the woman who’d laughed at Hanson’s cutting remark at the married woman—Naryn, apparently—said with a frank, pointed look at me.
Ugh.
But I didn’t want to sit here drinking, either.
“I’ll avoid her,” I said firmly and got to my feet. “If Donavyn hasn’t yet returned, perhaps I’ll enjoy a dance with someone else, or—”
“I would be more than happy to escort you, Lady Brennan.”
The room went utterly silent. I turned to find Lord Hanson standing in the doorway looking very elegant, very sober, and very intense.