Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
AUDREY
“Beware the man who smiles easily, because he either desires to trick you, or is being tricked, himself.”
~ Barloc’s Wisdom, compiled by F. Bergsoniir
T he internal numbness was familiar. I scrubbed quickly in the cold water, my movements rough with urgency. Isolde didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. We both knew the entire situation could’ve been avoided.
They were tourney competitors. I was going to be sharing feasts and dances with them.
Relying on the disguise had never been my plan. It was an added layer of protection, just like a quick dash across the stream to throw them off the scent.
Now, everything hinged on it.
I didn’t ask her for reassurances. If any one of those men recognized us, we were in trouble. I had no lies handy. There was no way I could say, “No I didn’t lose control of Vixen.” She’d been white-eyed and lathered with panic when we’d brought her home. It’d taken me an eon to get the poor mare through the city. The stableboys had remarked on it. That my usual horse and old friend, Storm, had bit someone so hard he’d swore he’d never work with horses again…didn’t help.
The guilt would be there, under the numbness.
“What dress are you wearing?” Isolde called.
My head swam. “I don’t know.” Those dresses and I mutually disliked each other. “The lilac.” It was simpler than the others. It’d be fast to get into.
“For the first banquet?” she asked. “Your father will want the pink or the puce.”
There was a scream in my throat. I dropped the brush and stood. I’d do. If there were any spots of dust, Isolde would sort me out. “Pink.” Mayhap I’d get lucky, be struck by some sort of brief, socially acceptable illness, and not have to wear the puce.
A knock at the door made me cringe. Luca . I didn’t have enough energy to deal with his exuberant positivity.
I pushed water off my body and scrambled for a comb, wishing I could just tap out of the entire affair. I knew Isolde was seriously considering hunting down the people we’d run into, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had an arrow in their throat by morning. Especially that lump of a knight who’d grabbed me. The memory of having him between my thighs had yet to leave me.
Mayhap I’d help her.
The door opened and she entered, dress draped over her arm. I knew, from what she’d taught me, that the cloth could double as a protective shield in that position.
Somehow she smelled like a daisy. And she’d avoided getting her hair wet.
Viciously, I ripped the comb through mine.
She arched a brow. “Want a knife for that knot?”
“It’d be faster.”
“He’ll wait,” she said, taking the comb firmly from my hand. I didn’t know if she meant Luca, still at my door, or my father at the banquet. “You need to breathe.”
I didn’t tell her I was breathing, but it was a near thing. “I need to get through tonight,” I corrected.
She yanked on the knot. “You’ll get through tonight easier if you aren’t flooded by battle energy,” she said briskly. “We both know it.” She stopped, then, and said, “I’m grounding you.”
I closed my eyes, bit back the snarl of impatience, and stood still as she settled her hands on my shoulders.
The pressure was heavy. I felt it down my back, into my hips, through my knees, into my heels, and out through my toes. I breathed into it obediently, with slow, deep out-breaths. Beneath my feet, the rug was thick but cool. The blisters I’d earned from walking home burned.
Terror swirled, dark and thick, no longer held back by the rush of energy that danger brought. I missed the strength of the battle energy, not for the first time.
Why was I still here?
“Breathe,” Isolde said, the word totally calm. “We’re okay.”
I did, drawing air deep and making her hands lift, then blowing it out slowly past lips that needed balm after my time in the wind. “I want to talk to you about leaving,” I said quietly.
Her fingers tightened fractionally, then released. “As you will.” She removed her hands, that tiny flex the only sign I’d spoken the words she’d wanted from me since I was eleven. “Later. When your betrothed isn’t listening at keyholes.”
Luca wasn’t the type to listen at keyholes. He’d have his nose in one of my books or be setting up a game of chess. But I nodded all the same. There was no way we could plan our flight now. I was supposed to be in the banquet hall a half-hour ago.
“If it’s because of those men,” she said, the words as brisk as her movements as she raised the comb again, “I have their measure.”
I wondered what it cost her to say that as she started in on the knots in my hair, her strokes a balance of speed and precision. Gentleness didn’t come into it, with Isolde. But neither did false niceties.
My sudden need to escape was partially because of the roving band of unwashed, horse-scented louts we’d had the misfortune to run into who’d identified Isolde accurately as Matri’sion. But it was also because of the man who waited for me, his nose in a book, his head in the clouds.
I was supposed to marry him in less than a season.
I couldn’t do it. And yet, I couldn’t leave. The thought made my head feel too full, and my knees wanted to give way. But I had to do something.
Doing nothing was, in a way, a choice.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Isolde murmured, quieter. “We can leave tonight, though, if that’s what you want.”
The offer made the bottom drop out of my belly. I wriggled my toes in the rug to remind myself I was still attached to this world. “No.” Not tonight. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. But soon. I knew it had to be soon.
She had her tribe to return to. She’d waited so long. I thought of Storm and Vixen, hopefully sleeping now, safe in their stalls. My heart ached with all of my mistakes.
I didn’t tell Isolde that, though. I’d just be reprimanded for considering them such. “Too many people.”
She made a noise I didn’t try to decipher and said, “That’ll do. Let’s get you ready.” Which, knowing Isolde, could’ve meant anything.
* * *
Luca’s face lit up like a hound spotting its dinner when he saw me, and I hated that he made me feel even more tired.
“You’ve bright eyes today, Audrey,” he said, offering me his arm with a small bow and kind smile. The velvet of his doublet was soft beneath my hand, and the stones cool beneath my aching feet. We were going to be late, but hopefully not later than my father.
“Have you heard of the trial they’re running in one of the mining districts in the South?”
“Not as yet.” I resisted the urge to glance around for listening ears, but couldn’t help but drop my voice to a murmur. Trust Luca to talk openly about the South.
At least he followed my lead, dipping his head a little closer to mine. His steely eyes sparkled as if it were a game. “It’s good news. They’ve built machines to draw the water out of mines, so there might be fewer cave-ins.”
I smiled and squeezed his arm, keeping the motion light so I didn’t hurt him. “How are they powered?” I asked, quietly, nodding in greeting to a visiting merchant I recognized but couldn’t name and ignoring the unease coiling in my belly. As long as he didn’t say the South again, we should be safe to discuss the topic.
“Steam,” he said, smile widening as if I’d confirmed his suspicions. “And magework.”
I frowned at this a little. “Don’t they have to mine the coal to heat the water to make the steam?”
“They’re starting with the coal mines,” he agreed, still smiling. “They estimate that only thirty percent of the coal will be needed to fuel the furnaces to run the pumps.”
“Efficient,” Isolde said sweetly from her place behind me. “Think of all the lives that will be saved.”
I shot her a warning look, knowing her honey-coated tones masked her sarcasm, even if Luca didn’t. Magework was worth a lot more than coal, and that sort of design would be patented to the King. They’d be paying for the privilege of mining in slightly less dangerous conditions for decades, I had no doubt. “I’m sure it’s one of many such changes,” I said to Isolde, warningly.
Luca put his hand over mine, patting it comfortingly. “I’m sure, too,” he agreed. “I hope we get some time to talk further tonight. I’ve missed you, my sweet.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Isolde’s smile widen even further, her eyes as flat as the drawings of the mythical sirens in the deep who lured men to their deaths.
Entirely unaware of the danger he was in, Luca chuckled knowingly beside me. “Just a few more weeks and you won’t need to worry about anyone overhearing us speaking so.”
I’m going to break his heart.
I pushed the thought aside as we reached the Great Hall. I had a role to play, and Luca would forgive my poor manners for tonight. After that…well, soon I wouldn’t be his problem.
We didn’t need to be guided to our seats, but we were anyway. My father’s huge, throne-like chair was empty for now, and the relief that washed through me made my head spin. Still, the moment I’d sat down, the readiness hummed again in my flesh.
He would appear. I would manage his demands. Then I could leave.
That was how these things always went.
And so it did this time, too. I tried to look absorbed in my meal while beside us my father spoke about the borderwars with Luca, whose knowledge of military history was surprisingly good for a scholar. I waited, knowing I could be called upon at any time—either for not listening enough, or for listening too closely. The tension was familiar, the exhaustion unavoidable. I finally got away when the music started and the ballrooms opened. The physical distance didn’t change the fear in the back of my brain. Much as I hated it, I knew I wasn’t safe.
And it wouldn’t change until my father was dead.
I breathed deeply of the perfumed air and smiled at people around me. I let them spin and myself drift, trying to not be dragged under by the sheer crush of sensation. Luca’s arm was my anchor. You can do this, Audrey .
“I see Fiona’s here, with Henry,” Luca said as we made our way through the crowd, our pace leisurely. “He’s competing in the sword.”
Much like my wedding, I tried not to think of Fiona. She was my closest living relative—and she resembled my mother far too much for interaction with her to be safe. The less attention I paid her, the less my father paid her. As for Henry… “I hope he wins a purse,” I admitted, quietly. “If he gets the mage academy up and running, it’ll be a boon.”
“Is that why he’s competing?” Luca asked, frowning slightly at me.
I shrugged. “I can only assume.”
We danced and talked. I tried to keep my focus on Luca, our companions, the groups we flitted between. Faces caught my attention, though. Familiar faces—families I knew, had learned the histories of, mostly, from the eastern side of the Aza Ranges, and others who’d traveled further, who I didn’t always know. Trying to keep track of them made my brain feel like I was being kicked with spurs. I smiled. I breathed. It swam about me.
“Ah, and from the other side of the ranges,” Luca was saying, turning us and lifting a hand in greeting. “Lady Audrey, this is lord Kadan.”
I knew the name and the associated territory. I’d heard it whispered about my entire life. Raider’s Ban . Home of the country’s best horseflesh and cavalry—and despised by my father.
As the noise and smells of the room rushed forward, I let my eyes dance over his face just briefly.
My hold on Luca kept me upright.
“A pleasure,” he was saying, with a bow. “May I, Luca?”
Luca was my anchor, and I clung. I couldn’t breathe.
The men from the orchard.
Luca was looking at me with understanding, that soft sickly sweetness that made me want to break his smiling mouth or fall into a weeping ball. “The ill will is one sided,” he told me, holding out his arm like he was handing over my reins to this lordling. My brain picked out odd details. The irregular pattern of sun-bleached streaks in lord Kadan’s dark blonde hair, the strange scar across his forehead, the crinkles at the side of his eyes that spoke of humor. My heart skittered against my ribs.
Where was Isolde? My head spun. Was this an ambush?
Luca thought I was upset about the ongoing feud. He had no idea.
But he was irrelevant. Luca was almost always irrelevant. Mayhap that was the way of sweet people. I forced myself to look at the horse lord’s face as my hand was placed in his.
“I’m glad to have a chance to meet you,” Kadan said, and his eyes weren’t flat like a siren’s as he guided me into the dance. I trod on one of his feet, and he spun me the other way, hiding the misstep. “As Luca said, I’d rather our parents’ arguments remain between them.”
He wasn’t decrying me. Did he recognize me?
A tiny bit of tension ebbed. It was enough that muscle memory could kick in, and my feet followed the right steps, finally. I let my eyes rest on the tip of one of his ears. He didn’t smell like horse anymore. My skin crawled.
He was the ’Ban heir. That meant the man today had been a ’Ban knight.
I’d had a knight in my grips. The memory of the solid weight was the memory of a ’Ban knight. I’d held steel to the throat of a Raider’s Ban knight.
“Everyone’s staring,” he murmured, his smile softening a little. “If you smile a little and laugh, they’ll think we’re getting on, and this is normal, and we’ve just met.” He spun me away, and the music was pouring into my overfull brain agonizingly, competing to be soaked up alongside his words. I desperately focused on the movements as the words seeped into my mind. Battle energy . Isolde was always right, and I hated it. I couldn’t figure out what to do like this, and the Wife herself couldn’t have grounded while in the arms of the heir of Raider’s Ban.
But he wasn’t, this second, exposing me. I breathed out and focused on how my body was moving, the soft slide of the fabric against my legs, the comforting warmth of his hand on mine. His palms were calloused, and he didn’t hold too loosely, or too tightly.
“I heard you’d had a riding accident this afternoon,” he said in the middle of a pulsing, swirling crowd of people that made my head spin.
I couldn’t find any words.
“I’m glad you’re uninjured,” he went on. “Mayhap, while we’re here, we could go for a ride with you and Luca.”
He absolutely knew who I was.
Was he trying to coerce me? My head buzzed as if it were full of bees, and I wanted to flee. “I’m sorry, my lord,” I said, and somehow the words sounded relatively normal, but perhaps I couldn’t hear even that properly. “The music is a little much for me.”
Mayhap I could get out of here.
He didn’t miss a beat. His smile had toned down, somewhat. “So I take it you like horses?” I hadn’t responded before he went on, casually, “I’ve a beautiful piebald at home who I’m hoping to put to Bravura, my stallion. Neither of them are friendly, but they’ve got legs on ’em.”
“That seems important,” I agreed.
His grin was swift and somewhat wonky as we halted near the edge of the gardens, on the precipice of that manicured, gently lit area where people wandered and spoke in hushed tones, and the noisy, chaotic movement inside.
“Is that not a phrase you use here?” he asked, waving over a circulating servant and helping himself to a drink. He didn’t pick one up for me, but looked across the top of his glass. “You look like you could use something.”
The horse lord’s words swam in my head. I glanced at the tray the servant held before him, eyes off to the side and expression as neutral as a statue. He was balancing it all perfectly.
How I wish I could do that.
Swallowing my misgivings, I reached out and took whatever was closest. “Thanking you.”
Kadan nodded and propped one shoulder against the elaborately carved pillar, kicking a foot against it. Luca was so far away now, and the server left us with a bow. Kadan sipped as if he had nothing more important to do.
The drink in my hand was apple cordial and tasted like blood.
I was acutely aware of every moment that passed in silence. The need to do or say something that would shatter the peace was almost overwhelming.
But they stretched out, two, then three. The song changed in the ballroom, and two older nobles I couldn’t focus on enough to identify wandered past. I was in a maelstrom of sensation and guilt and terror, and I could feel it chipping away at me, like it was ripping off my armor. And I could feel it, but I couldn’t feel anything at the same time.
“I think I’ve got us a path back,” Kadan mused but didn’t straighten. “If that’s your preference. If we dance, we’re less likely to need to talk to people on the way.”
My head pounded. I had to respond. My mouth moved, and I said, “I’d love to dance.” And I didn’t bobble the glass as I sat it down, or trip over my feet. I wasn’t properly connected to anything, but I had to be.
He talked about his piebald’s last foal, how she’d labored overnight, how the mare was looking promising, how he’d only brought one horse with him and worried about the others. At one point he said, “Don’t react, but your father’s spotted us,” and I felt like his hands had turned to coals against my skin. “Mine’s distracting him. I’ll get you back to Luca, then we’d best part ways for now.”
For now?
His eyes were on my face when I glanced over. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he offered casually. “Don’t you agree?”
He was trying to maneuver me. Well, he’d been successful so far. But I knew the enemy of my enemy was just another enemy.