CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The carriages pulled up to the palace just as the sun was setting, casting the white stone edifice in a rosy, orange glow.
The lush gardens were lit by strung-up lanterns, with men and women of the court strolling through the hedges on pebbled paths.
Evylin took it all in through the window.
Her eyes flitted from one place to the next.
Though it hadn’t changed much from their last visit, the springtime had filled the grounds with verdant life, and she was as in awe of the grandiosity as ever.
Evylin sat back, smiling over at Ilain and Auden, who were seated across from her and Deckard. “What was it like?” she asked. “Living in the palace.”
Ilain lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Boring.”
“When we first came to Ephria, we lived on Carlile’s small estate the majority of the time,” Auden added.
“It wasn’t until we’d met King Ephren that he offered to have us stay with him, though it was more to keep an eye on us than out of true hospitality.
We weren’t allowed out of the northern wing unless specifically ordered by the king himself. ”
Evylin saw why that would lead to a dull residency. Though she imagined a palace as grand as this would still hold wonder after wonder, even in its guest rooms.
The carriage clattered to a stop, and the footman opened the door for them.
Auden exited first, helping his sister down before Deckard did the same for Evylin.
Behind them, Thom, Rafferty, and Ethenn disembarked from their carriage.
They all met at the foot of the stairs before being greeted by a servant at the opulent entrance.
The servant led them through the halls, informing them that they’d dine with His Majesty in his private apartments.
They passed hall after hall of rooms, painting after painting of landscapes and royalty.
Vaulted ceilings towered above them. Evylin remembered attending the Annaltide Ball in awe of the beauty.
Now, she wondered how the Shepherd King justified his indulgent life when he came to power in a coup against the Mages’ immoderation.
Of course, Evylin hadn’t realized the tyrants the first Ephren overthrew were truly magical.
She’d always been taught they were heretics who believed in a false theology and claimed powers that weren’t real.
Ephren had done his work, effectively controlling his people’s knowledge.
The present King Ephren was no different.
At last, they came to the dining hall. The vaulted ceiling there was painted with a landscape of the rolling hills of Estshire.
The richly carpeted floor, a reflection of the green countryside, stretched beneath a large table.
Fine porcelain plates and silverware gleamed along its mahogany length.
Candlelight flickered dully under the immense glow of the crystal chandelier overhead.
And at the head of the table, King Willem Ephren sat with the shining, platinum crown of the Shepherd King on his white hair. The banner of the Shepherd hung behind him, the crook and sword crossed on the verdant silk.
“My Order,” Ephren exclaimed, rising. He chuckled excitedly. “Come in, come in. Take your seats. You won’t mind that I’ve invited my family to join us. My son, Caspar, you know.”
At the foot of the table, Prince Caspar regarded Evylin and Ilain with thoughtful consideration, likely pondering whether either was worth his efforts at seduction.
He remained as handsome as ever, featuring curly brown hair and appealing looks.
However, Evylin steadfastly avoided his gaze and his unwelcome attention.
The king went on to introduce the rest of his dinner guests.
“The lovely lady at his side is my daughter-in-law, Henriette.” The woman in question was rather plain with her dull brown hair and round features, but she had a beautiful, genuine smile.
“This is my brother, Grayham, Duke of Loclight province,” he said, clapping the shoulder of the man on his right.
“And my niece, Seretta. She’s quite taken with the daring story of Caspar’s rescue.
” He chuckled and sent a wink to the soldiers.
“Might even grace one of you with her company if you please her enough. They’re all wildly excited to hear your extravagant stories, though we’ll save the most important bits for after dinner, shall we? ”
Once the king had introduced the troop to his family, he instructed Deckard to sit on his left but stopped Evylin from following him. “I apologize, dear woman,” Ephren said, not sounding apologetic in the least. “But my daughter-in-law has requested your presence at her side.”
Not at all interested in sitting so near Prince Ephren, Evylin forced her smile. At least the man’s wife would be between her and him. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to speak with him at all.
The seating arrangement was quickly decided after that.
Auden was to sit beside Deckard while Ilain took the place across from him next to Duke Grayham Ephren.
Thom readily took the seat between Evylin and Ilain, dodging the advancement of Seretta, presumably the duke’s daughter, by their shared sharp jawlines, though the young woman had a far deeper complexion than any others at the table.
Seretta didn’t seem to mind this loss as she went right for Ethenn, slipping her hand under his arm and guiding him to the seat next to hers. Ilain watched keenly but stayed silent, and Rafferty wound up next to the prince.
Once the king took his seat, so did the rest of them, the servants pushing in their chairs readily. He started up a conversation with Deckard, the duke, and the Calders, capturing the far side of the table’s attention.
Henriette turned to Evylin immediately, her friendly smile infectious. “I couldn’t believe it when His Majesty told me I could join tonight,” she said with gleeful excitement. “Ever since I heard of your commission, I knew I had to meet you. Just think of it: the first female soldier.”
While Evylin knew she was far from the first in all of Terraeus, she kept the information to herself. “It’s a great honor,” she said. “I’m indebted to His Majesty.”
“Aren’t we all?” Prince Ephren grumbled at the end of the table.
His wife, who looked a decade younger than her husband, didn’t heed his sour remark. “However did you learn swordplay?” she asked, her guileless demeanor reminding Evylin of her youngest sister, Dolia.
“My uncle taught me,” Evylin said. “He was a general and a very great soldier.”
“He was the one in your party who died, wasn’t he?” Seretta asked from across the table. Her words weren’t venomous or cruelly intended. Instead, they sounded ignorant.
Evylin glanced up the table’s length to catch Deckard’s compassionate gaze.
Despite the way her heart squeezed, she gave him a nod, promising that she was fine.
Then she turned back to Seretta. “He was,” she said.
“It was a dreadful experience, losing him. But he died in battle protecting me, and I know he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. ”
Seretta pursed her lips. She was pretty, her tight black curls and hazel-brown skin tone suggesting her mother’s southern ancestry. “Were you close with your uncle?” she asked as though she couldn’t fathom the concept.
With an uncle such as King Ephren, Evylin didn’t doubt the struggle the young woman faced. However, she replied readily. “I was. Hewitt was a wonderful and attentive, if gruff, uncle. I adored him.”
“How darling,” Henriette said, then her expression pinched. “Or, I suppose, horrible. It’s a terrible thing—you having to watch him die like that.”
“It was terrible,” Evylin agreed.
Taking pity on her, Rafferty jumped into the conversation. “If you ladies like terrible stories,” he said dryly, “you should ask Ethenn to tell you about the time I slipped a frog into his trousers.”
“You just told the story, Raff,” Ethenn said flatly while the women tittered.
“Nah, I left out the bit about how you screeched like a goose in a fox’s maw.”
“Is this the sort of work the king’s highly specialized Order does?” Prince Caspar asked, a snide grin on his lips. “Pranking one another.”
“That was before we were in the Order, Your Highness,” Rafferty said with mocking respect. “While we were mere foot soldiers. We wouldn’t dream of behaving so unbecomingly now.”
Seretta set her hand on Ethenn’s arm, her expression taunting. “What else have you had in your trousers?” she teased under her breath.
A flash of red covered his neck while Evylin choked on her wine, Henriette flushed, and Caspar burst into laughter. Rafferty merely sniggered into his napkin.
But the comment had obtained both Thom and Ilain’s attention now, the pair of them thoroughly drawn in.
Though his ears were as red as his neck, Ethenn replied steadily, “Only my wife, ma’am.”
Evylin and Thom shared an amused glance. Seretta frowned in disbelief while Ilain turned back to the other side of the table, satisfied.
“You’re married?” Seretta asked.
“I am,” Ethenn confirmed.
“You’re not wearing a wedding band.”
“I can’t,” he said, lifting a forkful of turnip and yam. “It inhibits my fighting.”
Seretta clearly didn’t believe him. Her eyes narrowed as though pleased with the challenge. “What’s her name?”
Evylin blanched, but Ethenn answered without hesitation, “Eina.”
Ilain glanced over again, a small smile on her lips as she sipped her wine.
“It’s easy enough to invent a name, Serrie,” Prince Caspar chimed in amusedly. “Laurette. Mina. Eileen. See? If you want to discover the man’s honesty, you have to ask more pointed questions.”
“Why should I lie?” Ethenn asked with blunt calmness.
“Because, as I’m sure you know, my good man,” Caspar tipped his wine glass in Ethenn’s direction, “it’s more fun to play games than to give in too easily.”
“Do aid me in my investigation, cousin,” Seretta said pleasantly.
Caspar leaned forward. “Tell us: What’s your Eina’s deepest fear?”