Respectful Conversation
Chapter six
Sunlight beat down on Finn’s blond hair as he watched the black carriage that held his wife trundle nearer.
As it was nearly noon, the sun sat right above them, uninhibited by the towering stone walls around the grounds.
Finn drew in a deep breath. The scent of roses was heavy in the air.
Bushes holding fragrant blooms lined the cobblestone drive.
Each one was pristine. The head gardener was meticulous in his care for the flower, given that it was a part of the royal family crest.
Finn resisted the urge to shift on his feet.
The navy suit he wore felt restrictive and too warm for comfort.
Aunt Alora had instructed him to wear it, as the blue brought out the color of his eyes.
Finn couldn’t bring himself to argue or even tease his aunt.
What was one more decision made on his behalf?
His father, Commander Artavius, loomed on Finn’s right.
He hadn’t said anything since Finn had joined the family on the front steps outside the castle’s main hall.
Castien was to Finn’s left, with Wren holding his hand.
They looked every bit the future emperor and empress they were to be.
That is, if they were successful in this heist. With the election year approaching, Castien could not afford for mistakes.
If someone saw the Valengards as anything less than a force of nature, another candidate could swoop in and take advantage of the perceived weakness. That was not an option.
The carriage rolled to a stop at the bottom of the castle steps.
Another pulled in behind it, likely carrying Lady Morrowe’s belongings.
Finn drew his shoulders back and clasped his hands together behind his back.
He needed to appear both strong and welcoming.
Even if Castien was right that Duke Morrowe didn’t care about the sentimental side of marriage, Finn couldn’t have his father thinking he was any less than cordial.
Finn’s stomach swooped as a coachman opened the carriage door.
Out came a man near Finn’s age, possibly a few years older.
He wore a fine black suit with a burgundy waistcoat.
After him came another male, who Finn suspected was Duke Morrowe based on his older appearance and similar state of finery.
Finally, a small hand covered in black silk extended out of the door and settled into the coachman’s palm.
Lady Lucianna Morrowe alighted from the carriage with a lithe grace that denoted her training in elegance.
She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her rich blue gown, then adjusted the gold locket that hung around her neck so that it was perfectly centered in the middle of her collarbone.
Her long brown hair was done in a similar fashion to Wren’s.
Soft ringlets fell all the way to her waist, and there were pearls braided around the crown of her head.
It seemed that one of Wren’s wishes came true. Finn’s future wife was beautiful. However, he’d met enough beautiful women in his lifetime to know that appearances could be deceiving.
“Welcome,” Finn’s father intoned. “It is a pleasure to receive you.”
Lucianna lifted her gaze and gave a practiced smile followed by a respectful curtsy. The two men with her bowed forward in similar regard.
“The pleasure is ours, Commander. I know you and I have engaged in many conversations, but you have yet to meet my children.” Duke Morrowe’s smile was warm. He gestured to the young man standing nearest Lucianna. “This is my son, Lord Damon Morrowe. And my daughter, Lady Lucianna Morrowe.”
“It is a privilege to meet you,” Damon said. His tone was polite, but there was a tenseness in the way he held himself that told Finn perhaps not everyone in the Morrowe family was thrilled about this agreement. How did Lucianna feel? he wondered.
“I share the sentiments of my family and then some,” Lucianna said in a sweet voice that suited her delicate demeanor. “It is an honor to be welcomed into your family.”
Damon’s head snapped toward his sister. There was a look on his face that was equal parts astonishment and admonishment.
Finn found no fault in Lucianna’s greeting.
It was stiff and formal, but what else could such an encounter be?
They would find familiarity soon enough.
Finn glanced at Duke Morrowe, whose warm smile had turned rigid.
“As has been said, I am Commander Artavius Valengard.” A heavy hand landed on Finn’s shoulder. “This is my son, Lord Finnick Valengard. Prince Castien and Princess Wren have joined us to welcome you in place of the emperor and empress, who could not attend.”
Finn dipped his chin.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he enunciated, the words sounding as if someone else was speaking them.
“Shall we retire to the drawing room?” Wren suggested. “I am certain you are ready to be indoors after a taxing carriage ride.”
“Thank you, Your Highness, that would be much appreciated,” Duke Morrowe said, his previous smile back in full force.
Finn turned toward the entrance. His father stayed near, speaking in a low tone.
“Ensure that Lady Lucianna and Lord Damon feel welcome. I am going to finalize a few items in the agreement with Duke Morrowe.”
“Yes, Father,” Finn replied.
The two older men broke off from the group for their private discussion, leaving behind their families.
Footsteps echoed through the expansive entryway.
Finn grew restless as silence hovered over the group like a storm on the horizon.
He kept his gaze ahead. In his peripheral vision, he saw Lucianna regarding the suits of armor staggered throughout the hall.
Much of the interior design of the castle was headed up by the empress, but some elements were designated by the emperor, this entrance being one.
He did not wish for frills or embellishments.
The stark, rough-hewn stones were a show of strength and stability. And the armor only doubled the effect.
They all entered the drawing room, and Finn donned his best smile. It was his responsibility to lighten the mood. Tides knew Castien couldn’t, and Finn wouldn’t leave Wren to play hostess all by herself.
“Shall we get the usual boring topics of discussion out of the way?” Finn asked as he turned to face the group.
He gestured to Lucianna, whose eyebrows lifted.
“I presume you’re going to note the beauty of the drawing room?
” His hand flitted to Wren. “Wren, the gracious princess that she is, would humbly thank you and give all the design credit to her mother-in-law.”
Wren let out a soft laugh, taking a seat on a nearby sofa. “As opposed to accepting undue credit?” Castien sat next to her, resting his hand on her knee. Finn’s cousin wore a smirk and said nothing of his antics.
“See, gracious and humble.” Finn winked at Wren.
“Next, Damon, you would be obligated to compliment something so as not to appear rude after your sister was so kind.” Finn studied his future brother-in-law, who stood near Lucianna and the door.
Though his mission to protect his sister was clear, his gaze kept straying to the back of the room.
Finn smiled wider. “My first instinct was to say you’d comment on the craftsmanship of the armor, since you are the heir to a forge, but something about you makes me now inclined to believe you’d compliment the collection of books.”
The far wall of the drawing room had a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. It was lined with various tomes. Many of which were hand-selected by Wren. The empress had taken her to purchase them as a wedding present.
“That would be a much better choice of topic, as Wren is quite fond of her books,” Finn continued.
“Do you intend on speaking for all of us the entire afternoon?” Lucianna asked, catching Finn off guard. “It is bound to grow tiresome.”
“Unfortunately, Finn rarely tires of a game,” Castien drolled.
Finn shrugged, as it was true. He opened his mouth to continue.
“I meant for the rest of us,” Lucianna said, her pink lips tipped into a smirk.
Damon shot his sister another incredulous look. She did not acknowledge him.
“Not as tiresome as the uninspired commentary I just described,” Finn retorted.
Lucianna tipped her head to the side.
“And you have appointed yourself the judge over what is worthy to be discussed?”
Finn let out an amused huff. “I am not a judge, Lady Lucianna, merely a guide to the lost.”
The other occupants of the room remained silent, their gazes bouncing between Lucianna and Finn.
“How interesting. You deem us lost, yet we had no chance to speak and prove you wrong. Here I thought I was the only one who stole voices.”
“Lucianna,” Damon hissed in admonishment.
Finn’s brow furrowed. He could not gather the meaning of the latter half of her argument, but he disagreed enough to continue anyway.
“Tell me, what were you going to say upon settling in the drawing room?” Finn asked.
Lucianna’s expression faltered slightly, causing Finn’s smirk to widen.
“If you can truthfully claim I was wrong in my guess, then I will admit defeat; otherwise . . .” He let the implication hang between them.
Nearby, Castien watched with clear amusement. Wren, on the other hand, had an air of concern about her.
“No matter my answer, you deprived me of a choice.” Lucianna’s tone hardened. Finn felt this was too pointed to be about conversation topics. “Should I expect this same behavior when we’re married?”
Surprise coursed through Finn at her casual mention of their circumstances.
“Lucianna, that is enough,” Damon said sternly. “You have strayed from respectful conversation.”
Lucianna’s eyes flashed with anger.
“Was it respectful when my fate was decided without any consultation of my wants or needs?” she snapped. “Besides, it hardly matters how I speak. I’m not here because we’re to be wed—not really. I’m here because they need me for whatever they’re planning to steal.”
“Need is a strong word,” Finn muttered before he could filter himself.
Lucianna smiled, but it looked more like a baring of teeth.
“I’m a merchant’s daughter marrying into the royal family. On top of that, my father negotiated a sizable payment for my services, along with a long-term alliance between the forge and your armies. If I’m not essential to your plan, then you’re all fools.”
Damon grabbed his sister's arm as if he were about to drag her out of the room. But a voice with all the authority of a future emperor stopped him.
“She’s right.”