Chapter 12 #2
Biting back my irritation, I schooled my features into neutrality as Tarben spoke.
“I’m sure you’ve heard, Oriane. Alara rescued Amalie from the shipwreck. She swam them both to safety.” He sounded undeniably impressed. I did an excellent job of fending off the smirk threatening to settle on my face.
To my satisfaction, her perfectly-shaped eyebrows rose in surprise. “Indeed? Of course, I had heard the rumors, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the princess’s hero to be so…”
“Sophisticated?” I offered.
“Tall. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be so taken aback. Those long limbs must come in use for propelling yourself through water,” she remarked, exaggeratedly scanning me from top to bottom. “No offense intended, of course,” she added with a smile that barely masked the offense she did indeed intend.
“No offense taken.” I offered her a saccharine smile. “My height certainly comes with its advantages. I don’t have any need to climb, unlike so many of those around me.”
She blinked as though trying to decipher whether she’d just been insulted, while I continued to smile sweetly, making a point of gazing down at her.
Beside her, Tarben made a noise that sounded like something between a cough and suppressed laughter. Yet his face remained politely interested as Oriane, seemingly tired of our interaction, turned her full attention towards him.
I wasn’t fazed by Oriane’s attitude. After a lifetime at Vellamere Palace, I was an expert at navigating the Orianes of the world. In fact, I could name at least three friends just like her, and I never had any trouble putting them in their place. Her little jabs would not distract me from my task.
As she launched into a conversation about some mundane court gossip, I peered around the room.
The other guests had resumed their chatter, although some continued to shoot interested glances my way.
Before long, the king entered the room, followed by a figure with golden curls and a beaming face.
Amalie happily waved at me just as silence descended, and everyone, myself included, bowed.
“Please take your seats,” the king said, all smiles. He was clearly at ease amongst this group of people.
A servant led me to the long wooden table, adorned with candles, fine silverware and vases of flowers I recognized from the gardens.
My designated seat was near the head of the table between Amalie and a guest who had not yet materialized.
Tarben was seated opposite Amalie, and next to him sat Prince Hugo, who shot me a suspicious glare.
Excellent. I took a sip of my wine, contemplating how big of a problem he was going to be, when a voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You must be the princess’s savior.”
I glanced up to see a woman standing before me. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties with sable hair, tawny skin and high cheekbones. She would most certainly turn heads whenever she entered a room.
“I’m not so sure I would call myself that,” I said, placing a hand on my chest with a small laugh. I truly had perfected my humble act.
“Oh, don’t be so modest, Alara,” Amalie chimed in. “Yes, she is.”
“I am Lady Livia Hywell,” said the woman, taking the empty seat next to me with a radiant smile. Her twinkling eyes fixated on me as if I was the most fascinating person in the room.
Offering her a smile in return, I said, “I am Alara Veradis.”
Livia lowered her voice: “They’re saying you valiantly rescued young Princess Amalie from the perils of the shipwreck. Is it true?” Her rich brown eyes scanned my face curiously.
“There was nothing valiant about it—anyone would have done the same thing,” I responded with a slight lift of my shoulder.
“Ah, you know how courtiers like to gossip.” She sat back in her seat. “What better way to fill their days? Still, I believe you are too modest. I can think of few people I know who would act with your bravery.”
Her smile was kind. Maybe even sincere. But what struck me was how she spoke about courtiers. “Are you not a member of the nobility?”
“I am indeed, although it is by marriage. My husband, Lord Hywell, is a close friend and confidant of the King. He carries the noble bloodline. I come from more humble beginnings. And they are sure to never let me forget it,” she said, her tone airy as she gestured around the room. What was I supposed to say to that?
Thank goodness, we were interrupted by the first course. It was a soup consisting of mushrooms, sea cucumber and dried scallops. It was the closest thing to a meal from Vantillios I had been served and my stomach grumbled as I began to eat.
I had only swallowed a few mouthfuls when, as if reading my mind, Livia asked, “Is this land much different from your own?”
“It’s very different. Being here has been somewhat of an adjustment, but I’m grateful for His Majesty’s hospitality.”
She shot me a sympathetic look. “I imagine this must be rather difficult for you, being in a foreign land with foreign ways. I know it was for me. I used to get terribly homesick.”
“Where did you come from?” I asked.
“A small fishing village further up the coast. I met Ivar when he was passing through after his first wife died. He charmed me, then swept me away from my old life and into the glamor of court. We were married almost immediately.”
“I couldn’t imagine leaving my home for a man,” I mused. My eyes widened as I realized my blunder. Dismissing other people’s life choices wasn’t the best way to dazzle these mortals. Quickly, I added, “I only meant he must have been very charming.”
She huffed a laugh. “Indeed. I was young and completely smitten. Where did you come from?”
“Excellent question, Lady Livia. I think we would all like to hear the answer to this,” said Hugo from across the table.
The younger prince was turning out to be insufferable. Thank Tuli I didn’t have to seduce him.
“I hail from the kingdom of Ranstein. I traveled to Solvardunn on The Queen Astrid in the hopes that I might seek out a better life here,” I responded confidently with my rehearsed answer.
Ranstein bordered Solvardunn to the north, so it was plausible that I would travel to its neighboring kingdom alone. At least I hoped it was.
“But The Queen Astrid was traveling from northern Solvardunn, not Ranstein,” he remarked as a servant refilled his goblet of wine.
“You’re quite right, Your Highness. I had been traveling for a number of weeks before I boarded the ship to Barvik.”
He leaned back in his seat and swiveled his wine. “And what port was that again?”
Did he really think I wouldn’t know where the ship came from? I’d overheard the guards talking about it on our trek to the castle the day before. “Terenborg.”
“Remind me, how many days did the journey take?” he asked, tapping his chin with a long finger.
“Six. Although it felt like one month.” I’d tricked Amalie into revealing that information in the library that afternoon.
“And what is the dish Ranstein is famous for again?”
Shit. How in Seru’s name was I supposed to know the answer to this? I took a slow sip of my wine, biding my time. “We have many local delicacies, Your Highness, so I’m afraid I don’t know which one you are referring to.”
He snapped his fingers and said, “Oh that’s right, it’s pickled sheep’s heart. We must have Cook prepare it for you one of these days.”
My stomach soured at the thought, but I plastered on a smile like he had suggested chocolate-dipped strawberries for dinner. “That is most kind, Your Highness. I look forward to it.”
But Hugo wasn’t done with me yet. “I must confess, I’m curious about you,” he said. “You’re particularly well-spoken. You also appear to be exceptionally well-read.”
Why did it feel like he was setting a trap? A very public trap—half the table was now listening to our conversation. “You are most kind, Your Highness. Yes, it’s true, I do cultivate a fondness for literature.”
He appeared contemplative. “What is your station back in Ranstein? You are too well-educated for a commoner and that is clearly worth a fortune.” He gestured to my charm bracelet. “Yet, if you were a member of the nobility, surely we would have heard of you.”
He was no fool. Luckily, I was prepared.
“It’s true Your Highness, I did receive an excellent education.
However, as you say, I am not of nobility.
My mother and father were the most favored servants of a noble household and, as a reward, the Lord and Lady kindly allowed me to be educated alongside their children.
I spent the last few years acting as a tutor to their youngest children until I decided to leave for Solvardunn.
This bracelet was a gift of thanks from my old masters. ”
His shrewd eyes regarded me. It was hard to tell if he was satisfied with my answer.
“What of your parents?” Amalie asked.
I looked down at my lap, making a show of my grief. “They have passed on to Yvora.”
The king, who had spent the majority of the first course discussing various kingdom goings-on with Tarben, spoke up from the head of the table.
“Such a tragedy for someone so young,” he said somberly.
“My children, too, lost their mother when they were young. Princess Amalie was a babe when her mother succumbed to the Crimson Fever.”
In my short time here, I had surmised that the queen had passed away, but for it to happen when they were so young? Amalie had been an infant... My chest panged with an unpleasant feeling; I felt sympathy for the royals. “I am very sorry to hear that, Your Majesty.”
“She was beloved by all in the kingdom. She is greatly missed,” the king said sorrowfully. He hadn’t married again; he must never have recovered from the loss.
“Father truly loved our mother. Their story was like one of the fairy tales you like to read,” Amalie added, her tone wistful with traces of pride.
Fairy tales? Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I wasn’t going to split hairs over it now. Risking a glance at the king, I glimpsed a faraway look in his eye. Silence stretched across the dinner table until, at last, he cleared his throat.
“Come now, let us not discuss such grim subjects on this happy occasion. If Alara had not been on that ship, our beloved Princess Amalie might have…” He cleared his throat again.
“The Princess is with us tonight, which is a blessing we must all give thanks to the goddesses for.” He lifted his goblet and said, “Let us raise a toast to tonight’s guest of honor. To Alara.”
Everyone raised their goblets and toasted to me, although Hugo and Oriane looked less than pleased to do so. A fact that lifted my spirits considerably.
“Saddened as we are by the wreckage of The Queen Astrid, we find solace in the fact that it did not claim any lives—a profound relief for all those who had loved ones aboard the vessel,” the king said. “In celebration of life, I shall host a grand masquerade ball one week from now.”
This was met with a host of approving cheers and an outbreak of excited chatter.
I plastered a soft smile on my face, but, inwardly, I was doing cartwheels.
A ball was the perfect opportunity to move things along with Tarben.
I would have Runa make me look so gorgeous that it would bring the prince to his knees.
Between dancing and flirting, he wouldn’t be able to resist me.
As the jubilance continued around the table, Livia leaned in and whispered, “Looks like you’ve made quite the impression. On some more so than others.” She nodded discretely towards Prince Tarben, who caught my eye and inclined his goblet towards me.
I returned his smile. Too easy.
***
After the king’s announcement, dinner passed in a blur.
Over the course of the evening, I was introduced to a number of my fellow diners, all bearing titles of nobility.
The wine loosened their tongues, and it didn’t take long for them to pull me into their vapid conversations.
Fortunately, I was well versed in this language.
It was easy enough to feign interest in their chatter about fashion trends and country manor renovations.
It seemed that courtiers were the same no matter where in the world you went.
In between endless courses of salmon, duck, pork and venison, I spent most of my time talking to Livia. I decided I liked her. She was captivating and intelligent, with a wicked sense of humor that had me choking on my wine. It was a breath of fresh air in a room stale with small talk.
She told me her husband was unable to attend dinner due to some business on his land near the border between Solvardunn and Vicaster.
Solvardunn had not yet been touched by the war raging throughout Anerdor, Livia explained, but some believed it was only a matter of time.
In the event of an attack from the south, Lord Hywell’s land would be used as an outpost.
I had no idea that there was a war raging across the mortal continent. How could I? Though it came as news to me, I gave nothing away. I listened intently, nodding along and silently praying that no one would notice my ignorance.
Unfortunately, I learned little else. Following a tense exchange between Tarben and the king over the prospect of war encroaching upon Solvardunn—the king believed it was unlikely, Tarben seemed to think otherwise—all talk of warfare was swiftly quashed.
Guests were more than happy to discuss the upcoming ball and recount tales of past soirées.
It was clear they expected me to be scandalized, but, truthfully, their parties sounded mild compared to Mer gatherings.
Still, I played along, joking that I didn’t know whether to be excited or worried.
As dinner drew to a close, it came time for me to be escorted back to my bedchamber, but not before an insistence from Livia that we have tea together. I welcomed the idea. It would be good to have an ally here.
On the other end of the spectrum, it seemed I had already made an enemy of Oriane. She made her loathing of me quite plain with her parting words: “How wonderful it was to make your acquaintance. And try not to fret about the ball, your seamstress will get it right next time, I’m sure.”
Tarben merely brushed my hand with his lips and said, “I’ll send word from your dashing young resident.” His eyes danced roguishly. I was admittedly disappointed that, beyond our walk to dinner, we had barely spoken all night. But it was nothing to fret over, if everything went according to plan.
Back in my bedchamber, my head had barely hit my pillow before I was drifting into a deep slumber, dreaming of wars waged in faraway lands and birds with beautiful faces.