45. Not Today
SOUNDTRACK: Scared to Die by Our Last Night
~ VOSKI ~
I couldn’t let my mother scheme and control any further. It was time for her to meet the son who faltered at the wire, whose panic sat barely under the surface.
I spent the day packing, stealing supplies and rations in small parts—ensuring I was seen by at least two servants—secreting them in my bags.
I did ensure no one saw me walking a small food package out to the trees.
If I couldn’t succeed in manipulating my mother into action, I wouldn’t risk it.
Grace was being married in the castle, so I knew where to find her and when.
If Mother didn’t take action today, I would travel alone and trust I’d enticed her to follow.
I didn’t make an appearance for dinner for the first time since I arrived, because I knew it would put her off-balance. I waited until she’d retreated to her parlor with her wine, then walked in, throwing the door back so hard it hit the wall, and snapping at the servants to leave us.
Mother didn’t startle, though she did turn to look at me from her chair before the fire.
When Bernard looked back and forth between us, I snarled at him. “If she needs another drink, I will serve it to her. Go.”
She tipped her chin once at the old butler, then took another sip of her wine while I waited for Bernard and the footman to shuffle outside, throwing the door closed so hard, it slammed behind them.
Mother tsked as I started across the parlor toward her. “Goodness, someone is—”
I interrupted her, but gave no indication of the anger or impatience I’d used with the men. Let her see the pageantry of it, strolling toward the side-board to pour myself a stiff drink while I spoke. Making sure my fingers trembled slightly I and gripped the glass too tightly, to cover it.
“Either you give me all information you have regarding the wedding, and outline your plans in detail—leave nothing out—or I leave immediately and take care of this myself.”
She sighed like I was irritating. “You are in no position to—”
“You’re wrong,” I said flatly, taking a sip of the amber spirits before rolling it around in my glass and continuing.
“I have several options entirely independent of you, but I prefer to use your connections and do this the way that allows us the greatest freedom in the aftermath. If you won’t help, if you won’t even attempt to protect my line, then I will do so myself, by less measured means. ”
She stared at me, expressionless for a long, silent moment.
A favorite tactic of hers to unnerve people who stepped above their station and spoke to her as an equal.
But she’d used it against me since I was a child.
I was immune. I continued to sip at my drink, holding her gaze over the edge of my glass, and waiting for her to respond.
Eventually, her expression flattened and she turned away to stare into the fire as she spoke, running one fingertip around the edge of her wineglass.
“The man whose betrothed you want for yourself is a friend of the king. If I were to simply overrule him, I risk losing the king’s good favor.
This must be handled with precision. If you would only wait, we will both get what we want. But you will have to trust me.”
“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw this house from its foundations,” I said flatly.
She turned her head to scowl at me. “Then why come to me at all? You’ve remained apart for all these years, why return now unless you were drawn. Please, Vane, stop with this posturing. We both know you’re desperate for my help.”
“I told you. I have grown. I would rather Breckon give her up, than that I take her and leave a messy trail.”
She huffed. “Ah yes, always coming to me to clean up your messes.”
I bristled. Alarm shrieked in my head. But I didn’t let her see my true weakness. Instead, I turned the next sip at my glass into a gulp, dropping the heavy tumbler to the sideboard, straight onto the varnished surface, with a clunk. Then I started for the door.
I only got three steps before she spoke.
“The wedding is scheduled for ten days from now. Breckon intends to spend the final week at the castle. Apparently, he’s determined to marry her whether she bleeds or not, though I know the man’s temper and do not envy her if he learns she’s truly carrying another man’s babe.
You aren’t wrong that he’ll kill it. In any case, we’ll travel tomorrow, and arrive several days before the wedding.
She’ll be freed by his death before the wedding day dawns. ”
I whirled to face her. “I can kill him myself. There’s no subtlety in—”
She rolled her eyes. “During the festivities leading up to that happy occasion, I will prove to the king that his man is not loyal. The king will kill him. And your Lady will be free. Truly free,” she added pointedly.
“At which point, I will approach her parents and put forward your case, as a noble son of the most powerful nation in the Territories. Your marriage will be honorable, visible, recognized. Thus, your child will be acknowledged by the blood. There will be no need to hide, no limit to which kingdom you can choose to make your residence, and no restriction on your travel, or joint position in society. And you, my son, will no longer need to work.”
I had to pretend that was what I truly wanted, and that I was torn by letting her give it to me, when I knew she’d use it as leverage.
When I didn’t respond, she smiled. “Trust me.”
“No.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Gods, Vane. Then, at least acknowledge that I have some power, and many wits, and whether you appreciate my means, or not, you are better off taking her in a legitimate union. Otherwise you will simply face a new contract, and another noble in a year’s time when the scandal has passed. ”
That much was true, I knew. Grace’s family was truly noble.
And though these events would mar her reputation, it would only be to a point if it was Breckon’s failing.
With time—and her parents desperation for funds—someone else, likely another man with similar motives, would be convinced her name and bloodline were worth the initial blow to his reputation.
And Fyrehold would continue to uphold any marriage contract she was tied to by her parents. Unless I publicly ruined her.
The idea was tempting, honestly. And I suspected Grace would be happy to allow herself to be removed from polite society, if it would free her future with me.
But, much as I hated to admit it, it would be better for Grace, and any children we might have, if she retained her rank and position.
Even after she attained the Furyknight pin, she would be forced to ground if she got pregnant.
If something happened to me, she was far safer with the net of the nobility behind her to keep her prosperous and friendly with those in power, and—oh dear God, I sounded like my mother.
I muttered a curse. “I’m not leaving this in your hands. I’m going after her.”
“They are already days ahead of us—they’ve been at his estate. You won’t reach the castle faster than I can get you there.”
“It’s days’ travel by horse—more in a carriage. Even if you have fresh teams and don’t stop—”
“We won’t be traveling by carriage, Vane.”
I went still. Finally. Finally. Trembling because the wash of jubilant triumph was almost too much to hope for, I turned to face her, making my expression shocked.
She smiled at me.
“You’ve got the dragons?” I breathed.
Her smile stretched wide and she took another sip of that blood-red wine.