Chapter 48
Jane
“Aren’t you nervous about standing there?” Joy whispered beside me, her voice low under the murmur of citizens crowding the chamber.
“What do you think?” I replied rhetorically. A flutter rippled through my stomach. “But I will have to do it and try to look good at it.”
“You might not want to be too good,” Gwin added, sounding far too delighted. “Otherwise Reagan will dump every Audience on you.”
Astrid, leaning against the stone pillar next to Gwin, looked amused, holding on to a laugh lest it echo through the chamber.
I tried not to let the sea of bodies intimidate me. The only time I had ever stood before this many people was when I danced at the theatre in town. Even then, several dancers flanked me, and the crowd had been barely a quarter of the citizens gathered now.
Reagan stood on the dais in a ceremonial charcoal robe layered over his clothes, speaking to the crowd with an ease that made me wonder if he ever felt nervous. If he did, he disguised well.
“Perhaps this is something I could realistically take while he is warding the estate,” I murmured, thinking aloud.
Gwin shot me a look. “He doesn’t ward the estate alone. He just feeds the borders from time to time.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “You still think far too highly of him. Maybe because of whatever he’s doing in your bedroom.”
My face caught fire. If anyone had overheard her, it would be my body walking up to that dais alone while my soul fled far away.
“There is no filter on you, Gwinifer,” I said and glanced at Astrid. “How do you deal with this all the time?”
The battle mage considered for a moment. “I find Gwinifer’s honesty refreshing, actually.”
Gwin smirked like she had won something and winked at me.
I shook my head. “You are your brother’s sister.”
“There is news we would like to share,” Reagan announced, his voice carrying steadily across the chamber.
My pulse quickened.
“As of last week, Mountheim and I have been granted a great honour. Our future is no longer what it was months ago, and we have reason to acknowledge that change. I say this not because I forgot that we are still recovering, or the tragedy that befell the Foleys. We’re still grieving with them.
But I believe Mountheim is capable of turning for the better. ”
A bead of sweat slid down my back beneath the sweater and charcoal robe.
Reagan turned, his gaze finding me instantly. In the light flooding the chamber, his expression was composed, assured. It steadied my heartbeat.
He dipped his chin.
I stepped forward, the distance to the dais suddenly too long. But his eyes didn’t leave mine, carrying me the rest of the way.
The chamber had gone unnervingly still. I was aware of the scrape of fabric, the faint shuffle of feet.
Reagan’s fingers closed around mine. His voice was low as if directed only to me, yet I knew it echoed off the stone walls. “Meet your future Lady, Jane Darling.”
I felt the weight of their gazes turn to me, felt the room take me in all at once.
There were murmurs this time, restrained and few. Reagan returned his attention to the chamber, and I followed suit, lifting my chin as my gaze swept over the gathered onlookers.
So many faces, so many opinions behind them.
Cerridwen stepped forward, settling one step below the dais’s summit, her back to the crowd, Barracus following her from the opposite side. Every eye in the chamber shifted toward them.
“We’ll stand behind Jane, our future Lady,” Cerridwen Cobweb said, her voice low yet carrying to every corner of the room. “May both of you bring stability to Mountheim.”
“You have our support, now and always,” Barracus Crow added.
Mountheim’s Second and Third bowed their heads in a deferential gesture, signalling their approval before our formal bonding.
We waited.
Only seconds passed, yet they stretched forever as the assembly measured their soon-to-be hybrid Lady. As I gazed at the crowd, allowing myself to take in their faces, I couldn’t sense any contempt from them, nor blatant disapproval.
Still, Heil and several battle mages were positioned throughout the chamber, ready at the first sign of unrest. Barracus caught the captain’s eye before ascending the dais to take his place behind us, Cerridwen mirroring him on the opposite side.
No disturbance came.
I gave Reagan a nod before stepping back to stand between Cerridwen and Barracus.
It was far from over.
“After our bonding ceremony, your Lady will stand here by my side or in my stead. We expect that the blight will cease sooner this way. Some of you expressed concerns about the soil. We will settle that today.”
From the centre of the gathered crowd, the steward from the Highlands stepped forward with his son. I’d heard the whole staff disliked the pair even before the son, Zephyr, attacked Cerridwen in this same audience room.
“My Lord, Ms Cobweb, Mr Crow,” Castor greeted, his eyes finding mine. “And My future Lady. Thank you for agreeing to discuss the blight.”
Zephyr stood stiffly beside him. Heil’s warning stare from the foot of the dais promised consequences should he attempt anything like last time.
“We appreciate you sending your emissary and cousin to appease us in the Highlands,” Castor said. “The arguments he presented were quite clear.”
Varian Ilya stepped onto the dais as if he had been summoned. His dark cloak with its red edging flared behind him as he approached, offering Reagan the barest inclination of his head.
“It was a pleasure to find a compromise,” Varian said to the crowd.
I resisted the urge to scowl outright. Beside me, Cerridwen’s face was flawlessly unreadable. Reagan didn’t react to Varian’s presumption in stepping onto the dais, though I imagined he allowed it for the sake of the crowd.
Go on, snake. Dig yourself a grave.
“Stand back beside Barracus, Varian,” Reagan said steadily.
Varian obeyed, although instead of stopping beside Barracus, he paused directly at my side.
I inhaled quietly and held my hands together, resisting the grimace that rose at the faint nut scent clinging to him. Reagan’s mana pressed warm across my shoulders, the only sign of his displeasure.
“And what solution did you find?” Reagan asked, addressing the Highlanders.
Varian’s smirk was triumphant as he looked at Reagan’s back, as if he was imagining himself there, feeling closer to it. Then he let that same hungry stare rest on me.
He leaned closer and murmured, “Ladyship looks good on you.”
Not a moment too soon, his satisfaction vanished at the next words.
“Unfortunately, we haven’t found a plausible solution,” Castor said.
Varian went rigid. His head snapped toward the steward.
Reagan’s voice carried a deceptive confusion. “No?”
I clamped my jaw shut to stop the smile rising inside me.
“Respectfully, My Lord, we were outraged,” Castor continued, “to hear plain threats from Mountheim Hall. Mr Ilya led us to believe you would strip our lands unless we removed the tolls on all goods passing through. That toll is a security measure. We were shocked that such an order could come from you.”
Silence clamped down on the room.
Reagan remained unmoved, feet planted shoulder-length apart. Meanwhile, Varian frowned at the Highlanders.
“That is,” Castor added, “until your other emissary informed us that you never issued the command.”
Finnegan stepped forward to join Castor and Zephyr. His head bowed with the reverence expected of a man reporting to his lord.
“I clarified the misunderstanding,” Finn said, “and presented our real proposal, with the compromise on the tolls.”
Varian shook as if he was about to lurch forward and throw himself at Castor or Finn.
“You shouldn’t,” I said under my breath.
His attention cut to me, staring at me in disbelief, as if he had forgotten I existed. I watched the moment the realisation settled. His gaze darted between Reagan and myself, his mouth parting in dawning horror.
Reagan was still speaking. “…and I would never coerce an estate steward. Nor did I order hostility after all your town has endured.” He turned his head, his gaze snapping to Varian. “This was an odious practice. I would never consider it.”
Varian’s mana brushed like moss against my skin, a flux pulse that betrayed the panic he was struggling to contain.
Nights ago, Reagan had explained exactly how this would unfold.
He had questioned the value his cousin would bring to the staff after they discussed the unrest in the Highlands, just enough to wound Varian’s pride.
A man like Varian could not bear the implication.
He would seek to prove himself, and his ambition would do the rest.
Finn had contained the fallout, planning with the steward and laying the groundwork for this moment. And Caed had done more than resolve the unrest. He had exposed the true nature of Varian Ilya. In front of hundreds of citizens.
A wicked heat surged low in my belly as I stared at him.
Varian spun toward me, his voice uncharacteristically nervous. “Stop this. Tell him it’s a mistake. Please, Jane.”
I looked him over. “I once begged you too, Varian.” His face tightened. “You threatened my life and his future, so consider yourself lucky. Reagan is being merciful.”
His posture snapped straight, that pride stripping him of the mask. “He is condemning me to a life of humiliation. Perhaps that is nothing for you, his whore, but I have a name. A reputation. If he doesn’t repair this impression, I’m finished.”
So painfully obvious. His desperation stripped even the illusion of cleverness from him.
I watched him with pure contempt, tilting my head the way he loved to do. “Then ask him. I’m only his whore after all. And step away from me before I tell the captain to remove you.”
He stepped back, his gaze sweeping the chamber, searching frantically for a way out. Then he spotted a chronist scribbling notes near the side wall. His neck strained.
“That one was my idea,” I told him lightly. “The paper loved the invitation. We will have the article distributed throughout the country. Wonderful, don’t you think?”
Varian understood this language of veiled deception. I wondered how his family in Ashenagth would react to the news of the rightful heir’s public disgrace.
His face twisted as if he’d forgotten where we were, his teeth bared in the most unhinged expression.
“Rest assured,” Reagan said, drawing our attention back to him, his voice now carrying a thread of cold violence as he stared at his cousin, “that threats against mine never go unanswered.”