Chapter 56 #2
“Why would he do that?” Amryn asked, her voice low and tight. It was in direct contrast to the lilting music and celebratory air of the crowd surrounding them, but it matched Carver’s own concern perfectly. And if Ivan’s scowl was any indication, he felt the same.
The emperor’s speech was done. The Chosen had been dismissed to join the revelry of the ball, while Jayveh and the emperor had moved to a dais in the garden, where—under the careful eyes of multiple bodyguards—they were receiving a line of well-wishers.
Standing near the emperor was High Cleric Lisbeth.
Carver’s eyes narrowed on the female cleric, taking in her smug smile. “I think someone convinced the emperor it would be a good idea,” he said, answering Amryn’s question.
She frowned as she followed his gaze. “Why would Lisbeth encourage him to reveal Jayveh’s pregnancy?”
Ivan grunted. “She might simply wish to establish herself more firmly as his primary counselor, after Morav’s treachery.”
Unfortunately, Carver suspected Ivan was right.
He recalled that Lisbeth had wanted the emperor to announce Jayveh’s pregnancy right away.
The emperor had decided against it, largely because of the threat against Jayveh.
Now that the Brotherhood had been arrested, clearly the emperor had been swayed by the high cleric.
Amryn sighed. “I suppose she couldn’t have hidden it much longer.”
Carver still would have preferred to handle the announcement more strategically. There was nothing they could do about it now, unfortunately. He held out his arm to Amryn. “Let’s find my mother. She’ll hunt us down if we don’t find her first.”
They had a little time before he needed to meet Keats in the treasury, and Amryn, Ivan, and Samuel needed to meet up with Bram. Carver hoped to steal a dance with his wife before then. But knowing his mother, she’d follow them onto the dance floor if they didn’t greet her first.
Amryn took his arm and Carver led her through the crowd with Ivan trailing protectively behind. Several people stopped to greet them and thank them for their sacrifices, but soon they made their way to where the Vincettis had gathered.
They weren’t alone. Rix and Torin stood with them.
Both men looked uncomfortable, but Torin wore a better mask of politeness as Alora spoke with him.
She had probably invited them over the moment she’d seen them.
She seemed intent on making them feel like part of the family.
Because they were Amryn’s family. Carver needed to remember that.
Especially as Rix’s eyes sharpened at the sight of him.
Amryn’s uncle wore a similar outfit to the one he’d worn at the wedding in Esperance.
Black, but with a sash of blue, white, and gold plaid over one shoulder.
It was fastened into place by a knotted metal pin at the shoulder, the cloth draping over his chest. Carver assumed it was a traditional garment in Ferradin.
He would have to ask Amryn what it represented.
Torin wore a similar plaid, though the colors on his were green, purple, and white.
Like Carver, his father had worn his ceremonial Westmont uniform.
His mother wore a long gown of gold and cream, her brown hair swept up in an elegant bun.
Elowen stood with them, looking beautiful in her new silver gown from Piera Denvoux.
Berron stood slightly apart, wearing a dark jacket without wrinkles.
Carver was quite certain his brother had even trimmed his beard.
His hair remained too long, but it was gathered into a loose ponytail at his nape.
His familiar scowl was, of course, still in place.
Keene was also there, though Wren and Fowler were too young to attend the festivities.
Ford was also present, wearing his Westmont uniform as well.
He and Carver had sparred a little the other day, so he knew Ford wasn’t quite back to his full strength.
But he was adamant about helping in the treasury tonight.
Alora spotted them first. Her eyes widened as she took in Amryn. “Oh my—you look absolutely stunning!”
Elowen grinned as she took Amryn’s hands and held out her arms so she could better inspect the dress. “Piera is a genius, isn’t she?”
“So are you,” Amryn told his sister. “Thank you for all your help. I love the dress.”
“Well, you wear the design perfectly, and—” Elowen cut herself off as her attention snagged on the bracelet encircling Amryn’s wrist. “Is that . . .?” Her unfinished words—and the stare she was giving the bracelet—drew every eye in their circle to the piece of jewelry.
Aware of Rix’s narrowing eyes, Carver still wrapped an arm around Amryn’s waist from behind, tugging her closer as he said, “I gave it to her tonight.” At his mother’s quick look, he added, “While I was on one knee.”
Alora gave a happy cry and rushed forward to hug Amryn, pulling her away from Carver.
Cregon beamed and Ford clapped Carver on the shoulder while Keene also congratulated him.
Elowen hurried to explain the significance of the Westmont tradition to Ivan, Rix, and Torin.
Berron—who was still standing slightly apart—merely watched them with his single eye.
“This is such wonderful news!” Alora said, moisture shining in her eyes. “I can’t wait until we can return to Westmont and have your wedding ball.”
“Perhaps you should let them share a dance at this ball first,” Elowen quipped.
Alora waved an impatient hand at her daughter before turning to Rix. She still held Amryn’s hand in her own as she beamed at Amryn’s guardian. “You’re of course invited to stay at our home so you can enjoy the celebration with us.”
A muscle in Rix’s jaw rippled. “That is a generous offer, Lady Vincetti.”
The words may have been polite, but that didn’t change his low tone—or disguise the fact that they weren’t an acceptance.
The light in Amryn’s eyes dimmed slightly. It was enough to make Carver stiffen.
Alora’s smile wavered, but resolutely remained in place as she pulled Amryn into another hug. “Welcome—officially—to the family, Amryn.”
Despite Rix and Torin’s less than enthusiastic reactions, it warmed Carver’s heart to see the joy in his mother’s face. And how tightly Amryn returned her embrace.
“What’s this?”
Carver’s pulse quickened at the sound of Rhone’s voice.
The knight stood just outside their circle, curiosity in his eyes.
Amryn immediately darted a look to her uncle, which Carver followed.
Rix had gone utterly pale, his eyes wide and frantic.
Carver’s stomach dropped. Saints. Rix hadn’t known a knight was here. It was written all over his face. And he obviously had no idea Amryn carried the bloodstone, which protected her from detection.
That became frighteningly clear when his hand moved, fingers easing aside the plaid that hid a small blade sheathed at his hip.