Chapter Twenty-Eight - Blackthorn Salon #2
“The invite or the arrest?”
“Won’t you have some tea your highness?”
Rosamund gestured to the single chairs that had been laid aside for the two senior princesses. Celeste nodded gratefully and took her seat, “I must say this is not what I expected.”
“Prince Dorian has been very generous in allowing me my space,” said Rosamund and she crossed to the shared sofa with Marianne, “my father has always installed in me a great love of nature, and I have enjoyed being able to utilise my green thumb. It appears I have something of a knack for it.”
A tense silence fell on the room at the mention of her father. Deliberate as it was, she had to stop the rising anxiety within herself as she spoke of him.
Remind them. Remind them whose daughter you are. And who can break their curse.
She watched as some of them began to make the connection.
Seraphine was one of the first and she watched as the dark-haired woman considered her with interest. Celeste was next, her face softening as she looked again at the beauty around her.
If Rosamund could create life in this dark place, in their eyes, without magic, what else could she do?
Perhaps the life magic of Roderic Valehart did run through her veins.
More than they know. More than they will ever know.
Marianne had been curious as to how Rosamund had been able to procure so many new plants in such a short space of time.
She had only ever used her power when the other woman was not there.
As much as she had grown to love the young princess, to tell her of her magic would put her in as much risk as Rosamund herself.
That was if the fear of it did not prompt Marianne to report her herself.
Either way, she did not want to put her in that position.
Rosamund suspected Marianne had already figured out that there was more to The Veil than any of them were letting on, so she had told her that was where the greenery had come from.
The young princess had believed her and Rosamund had felt uneasy at how easily she lied these days.
“You certainly do,” said Celeste as she held Rosamund’s gaze, “though, I am intrigued as to what else might have prompted your invite. I am sure it was not just to showcase your gardening.”
“It is also unprecedented,” said Seraphine as the empty chair grabbed her notice, “only the royal wives are permitted to host a salon.”
“And yet here you all are,” said Rosamund quietly.
Another awkward silence filled the room, even Marianne who had known what she intended shifted uncomfortably. Rosamund revelled in it.
“It would have been unkind to refuse,” said Celeste calmly, “given what you are going through, I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“It has not been easy your highness, however, you are quite right. I do have other reasons for inviting you all here today, beyond my green thumb that is.”
“I did not think we were expecting Princess Elswyth,” cut in Seraphine sharply.
Rosamund ignored the sharp stab in her chest, “we are not.”
Seraphine stared expectantly at her, waiting for further elaboration and when none was forthcoming said, “then as host, as unconventional as it is, you should take precedence here between myself and Celeste.”
She gestured to the empty chair between them.
“Shouldn’t she know this by now?” Lavinia said to Isolde a little too loudly.
“Under normal circumstances that would be the case your highness,” said Rosamund serenely, ignoring Lavinia, “however I believe it is traditional for our final guest today to take precedence.”
Before anyone of them could enquire further the doors to the conservatory opened, and Rowan announced, “Her Royal Majesty, Queen Lyonesse of Valdyr.”
Amused at the surprised faces of the women around her, Rosamund approached the elegant black woman dressed in the royal colours and curtsied low to her.
“Your majesty, I am honoured that you could attend us,” said Rosamund respectfully as she kept her eyes on the ground.
The princesses behind her all rose from their seats to drop into similar curtsies.
Rosamund heard Rowan quietly close the door behind him.
Mrs Hawthorn and Elira had been tasked with keeping anyone else away from the conservatory.
Though, she suspected both would have their ears pressed up against the door, whilst Rowan attended to the ladies.
“We are sorry that we cannot stay long Lady Rosamund,” said Queen Lyonesse as she gestured for Rosamund to rise, “we are saddened to hear of the accusations levelled against our stepson, you have our condolences.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” said Rosamund, “it is a grievous error I intend to rectify.”
“Is that so?” said the Queen with interest, “hmm.”
“Some tea, your majesty?” asked Rosamund as the Queen took her seat between the older princesses.
“Yes, why not,” said the Queen, Rosamund snapped her fingers at Rowan.
This time the silence that fell was filled with anticipation, the arrival of the queen having unsettled the other princesses but piqued their interest. As Rowan went about pouring the tea Marianne cleared her throat, causing another ripple of surprise through the attending ladies.
With only a slight quaver in her voice she said, “I cannot think of the last time I have seen so many delicious desserts in one place.”
“Neither have I,” said Isolde with a mouth full of cake, which caused Seraphine to tut disapprovingly.
“You said they were from a baker in the veil?” said Marianne, still nervous but pressing on.
“I did,” said Rosamund.
“How curious,” said Celeste with greater interest.
“As are the plates, the teacups, the furniture you are sitting on and…well…everything,” said Rosamund and watched as they looked at all the trinkets with renewed interest.
“I thought the only thing to come out of the Veil was dirt and misery,” sneered Lavinia.
Rosamund fought down the spike of irritation, “Oh there is plenty of that too, but since my arrival I have found these gems amongst the mud. Little luxuries that my betrothed has hoarded for himself.”
“Such as,” asked Isolde, encouraging her to continue.
And she told them. Not enough to fully betray the secrets of the Veil, but enough to interest them.
Enough to hold their attention and open their eyes to the potential.
She told them of the craftsmen but implied they worked only for Dorian.
She told them of the mines, a well-known trade of The Veil, but suggested that the gems of unusual properties had been found there rather than giving them their true source.
She gave them just enough truth to grab their attention but still shrouded in enough mystery.
Dorian would hate it; he would never have allowed it.
Wulf had thought it too risky, but Corvin and the others had conceded that some allowances would need to be made if their plan was to work.
They needed these women; she needed them to see the value in The Veil.
“I had no idea,” said Isolde, her jaw slack as Celeste nodded in agreement.
“It would seem that Dorian has been keeping even more secrets,” said the Queen.
“Is it any wonder?” said Rosamund, “when his brothers covet his lands and make frequent attempts on his life?”
The faces around her did not look as shocked as she had expected them to be. A few even looked…guilty.
“That is…a bold accusation Lady Rosamund,” said Seraphine with ice in her voice.
“No bolder than the accusation of treason levelled against my betrothed,” said Rosamund, steeling herself, “something you all know that I am painfully familiar with.”
“So, that is why you invited us here?” said Lavinia with a harsh laugh, “you wish to plead for Dorian’s life?”
“I invited you here because Prince Dorian is innocent,” said Rosamund as she looked each of them in the eye, “and I can prove it.”
Lavinia laughed, but she was the only one to do so.
“Dorian has only ever done what has been expected of him. He has provided the iron and ore for your armies and your craftsmen. He has taken in the dregs of this kingdom that no other region will have and put them to work in his mines. He has done everything that has been asked of him, even lowering himself to be betrothed to the daughter of a traitor.”
Forgive me father…
“Dorian is loyal to Valdyr, to the King. Why would he jeopardise everything he has for two boys he’s never met?”
Forgive me Roland, Tristan…
“Perhaps he has grown soft,” suggested Lavinia, she turned to the elder princesses and the Queen, “perhaps she’s right and Dorian isn’t fully to blame. Maybe this little Valehart has Dorian wrapped around her finger.”
Rosamund felt Marianne tense beside her, but she had expected this from the Ironward Princess.
“Do you think I would have invited you here if that were true?” said Rosamund, holding her ground, “would it not serve me better to have my betrothed executed? Then I might be free of the monster I am to marry. I can assure you that Dorian is no more enamoured with this situation than I am being betrothed to the Prince of Death. A man, that you are all aware, could kill me at any moment with but a touch.”
“Is that so?” said Lavinia, “explain the ball then, you didn’t look so scared to touch him then.”
“That is true,” said Celeste reluctantly, “you seemed much more amicable.”
“He is to be my husband,” said Rosamund, “we had to find a way to…tolerate each other. Without him I know I am ruined, I am lost. Why would I risk that? Why would I risk him for two boys I barely remember? Why would I be here now, as you say, pleading for his life?”
Isolde smiled at her and turned to Lavinia, “you must admit, that’s also true. It’s been a long time since Rosamund has seen them.”
“Whilst this may be true Lady Rosamund,” said Celeste, “this hardly constitutes as evidence.”
“That we will provide at Dorian’s trial,” said Rosamund, “what I want to ensure is that it is a fair one.”
“Then Lady Rosamund, why speak to us?” snapped Seraphine, “it will be the Prince’s that will judge your betrothed, not us.”