Chapter Seventeen #4
?You do possess magic, Ellysetta. Denying it won’t change that.
And nei, I was not using you. If anything, I was testing you.
Marissya has already read most of the nobles at this gathering.
You read every one of them exactly as she did.
Exactly, Ellysetta. Do you honestly believe it’s pure coincidence that your intuition aligns perfectly with the reading of our most powerful shei’dalin? ?
Her anger faltered, shaken by the possibility he was telling the truth.
She’d always had a sense about people. Her father often asked for her opinion before making a purchase from a vendor he didn’t know.
“You have an eye for an honest man, Ellie-girl,” he’d always praised, and she’d never thought more of it than that.
Now Rain claimed her “eye for an honest man” was magic. Shei’dalin magic.
“My Lord Feyreisen?” Lord Corrias turned back to them. “Is there a problem?”
Rain looked down at Ellie, his eyes steady, his face an impassive mask.
She took a breath and gathered her composure.
“No, my lord. No problem.” She put her hand back on Rain’s wrist, and his emotions surged up her arm at the first touch: determination, pride, a hint of remorse, but not much.
She had a gift, one he was determined she would accept and learn to use.
As frightening as that seemed, she’d already been using some measure of that gift all her life.
Did it really matter whether she called it magic or an eye for an honest man?
Her shoulders squared. Her chin lifted. ?Lord Morvel will honor his contracts to the word, but not one letter more. ?
A quick, surprised glance brushed her cheek, then warm approval flowed across her senses. The arm beneath her fingers lost a bit of its tension. ?Beylah vo, Ellysetta.?
She gave a small nod, but kept her eyes fixed forward and forced a pleasant expression as Lord Corrias introduced yet another noble couple. “Lord Durbin, Lady Durbin. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”
When they met Lord Cannevar Barrial, Rain could tell that Ellysetta liked him more than anyone else save Teleos.
So did he. The border lord had a sturdy, no-nonsense look about him.
His clothes were impeccably fine, but tailored for practicality with no long swags or bulk of fabric to hinder him should a ballroom unexpectedly turn into a battlefield.
He wore two long, jeweled daggers at his waist—one on each side—and Rain would be surprised if both weren’t razor sharp and made to fit in Lord Barrial’s hand with comfortable ease.
The most intriguing thing about Lord Barrial, however, was the heavy gold chain draped around his throat—or rather, the large, cabochon Tairen’s Eye crystal hanging from it, surrounded by a sunburst of diamonds in a graduated rainbow of shades.
How had Cannevar Barrial, a Celierian border lord, come to possess a Fey warrior’s sorreisu kiyr?
“Have you or a member of your family performed some special service to the Fey, Lord Barrial?” Rain asked when the introductions were complete. He gestured to the jewel around Barrial’s throat. “A Tairen’s Eye that size doesn’t usually find its way out of Fey hands.”
“It’s been in my family for centuries.” The border lord’s brow lifted. “Who knows? Perhaps there is a Fey ancestor somewhere far back in the Barrial family tree.”
“Perhaps there is,” Rain acknowledged seriously. “Guard it well, Lord Barrial. There are those who would kill for such a prize.”
Lord Barrial gave a smile that changed him instantly from wealthy courtier to dangerous predator. “The warning is appreciated, My Lord Feyreisen, but unnecessary. I am well able to defend what belongs to me. It’s something of a requirement for surviving on the borders.”
Rain liked the man all the more. “Dax tells me you have several children.”
“I do. Four sons and one lovely daughter who recently wed the heir of my neighbor Lord Sebourne, whom you met yesterday.”
“Then I am doubly in your debt for your words in Council yesterday and your willingness to entertain a close connection with the Fey. I hope your support did not cause a breach between you and your daughter’s bond-family.”
Lord Barrial smiled. “Sebourne and I share long years between us. It would take more than a simple disagreement in Council to set us at each other’s throats.
” The smile faded, and seriousness took its place.
“He’s not a bad sort. Pompous, yes, but the zealous dislike of dahl’reisen is a recent development.
Too many of the attacks have been focused on his lands, and he’s begun seeing enemies in every shadow.
That’s one reason I agreed to the king’s request. My daughter lives on Sebourne land now—or will once she and Colum return from their bridal voyage.
For her sake, I’ll do whatever I can to help put an end to those attacks. ”
“Was your daughter betrothed at a young age, Lord Barrial?” Ellysetta interrupted.
“Why do you ask?”
Rain pressed his fingers against her waist. ?Shei’tani, leave it. I have said I will speak with him.?
Ellie firmed her jaw and blurted, “I don’t approve of betrothing young children. They should have a choice of whom they wed. A chance to find love.”
The border lord drew back in surprise and Rain cast her a reproving glance. Blood rushed to her cheeks, but she set her face in a mulish expression and held Lord Barrial’s gaze.
Rain sighed. ?You must learn to trust me, Ellysetta.?
Looking from Rain to Ellie, Lord Barrial said quietly, “I would never willingly do anything to cause my children unhappiness. Nor would I propose a union that was unwelcome.”
“The Feyreisa is very protective of her sisters’ happiness,” Rain told him. “And she was recently betrothed to a man not of her choosing. She has asked that no betrothal offers be made to her parents at this time.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. Lord Barrial nodded to Ellysetta.
“I heard of your betrothal, and your day in court. On the borders, happiness is too fleeting to waste a moment of it trapped in a cold marriage. Talisa wed the day of her twenty-fifth birthday, by her own choosing, because she had never found another who suited her better than Colum diSebourne. It is not the love match I wanted for her, but they are friends.” The border lord bowed to Rain.
“My offer was merely that—an offer. Any bond between us is negotiable.”
Rain returned the bow with a nod, and Lord Barrial moved away.
When he was gone, Rain turned to Ellie and shook his head.
?You may think you are a coward, shei’tani, but you are mistaken.
No other woman in this room, with the possible exception of Annoura or Marissya, would have challenged a man of Lord Barrial’s standing as you just did.
? He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon it.
?When it comes to those you love, Ellysetta, you are fierce as any tairen. ?
Across the room, Annoura watched the Tairen Soul kiss his peasant-bride’s hand and escort her around the palace ballroom as if she were the Queen of Queens.
Already, many of Celieria’s best had begun softening towards her, thanks to Dorian’s infuriating surprise announcement.
Lords who might have remained hostile to a foreign king and his unacceptable bride would not risk insulting one of the Great Houses.
Who would have guessed Dorian could ever arrange such a coup, let alone arrange it so swiftly?
And he’d not once said a word to her about it!
Furious, Annoura snatched a glass of pinalle from a passing waiter and took a long, satisfying sip of the chilled alcohol. Heady warmth followed the sweet, cool flavors of the wine, and she regarded Dorian’s two prize bulls over the rim of her wineglass.
Barrial’s participation in this farce didn’t surprise her much.
He fancied himself an everyman’s lord: the sort who would happily roll back his sleeves and toil in the dirt alongside his men.
He’d toss out the offer just to prove his willingness to accept a person on merit rather than position.
As if that were somehow an asset. She hadn’t forgotten how quickly he’d jumped to the Fey’s defense in Council yesterday.
Only Teleos and Dorian were bigger Fey-lovers.
But Morvel . . . the way he bragged on the purity of his noble House, you’d think each thimbleful of seed that spewed from his loins was worth a fifty-weight in gold.
How in the name of all the gods had Dorian convinced Albuthnas Morvel even to consider merging his highly pedigreed bloodlines with a woodcarver’s whelp?
Somehow, some way, Dorian had managed it.
If it had been for any other purpose, she’d be luminous with pride, ebullient with the proof of her royal husband’s irrefutable power.
But not for this. As always, he stirred himself most not on behalf of his own family, his own wife, but for those gods-cursed, soul-scorching Fey.
Annoura downed the rest of her wine in one angry gulp, then shuddered a little as the warmth washed over her in waves. She’d have to be careful. She hadn’t eaten much today, and the deceptively sweet blue wine would quickly go to her head.
Wouldn’t it be amusing if the girl got drunk and made a fool of herself? From nowhere, the memory of Jiarine’s wicked laughter popped into Annoura’s head.
She stared at the empty glass in her hand.
A small blue drop of liquid still clung to the rim.
She scooped it up with a diamond-dusted fingertip and licked it slowly from her skin as she watched Rain Tairen Soul squiring his woodcarver’s daughter from one group of nobles to another, watched the obsequious smiles and the fawning that had already begun.
The dinner gong rang. Annoura handed her glass to a passing servant, forced a serene smile to her face, and offered her hand to Dorian.
Together, shining like stars beneath the palace chandeliers, they led their guests to dinner in the banquet hall adjoining the ballroom and took up their seats at the head table.
As they waited for their guests to be seated, she called the wine steward responsible for serving the head table to her side.
He was a discreet man, one she’d brought with her years ago from Capellas.
“Do be sure to keep the Feyreisa’s wineglass full,” she murmured to him.
“And when keflee is served, brew her a special cup from my private stock. Use the new blend in the purple silk bag.” She smiled sweetly.
“I wouldn’t want to offer anything but the best to the Fey’s new queen. ”