Invocation Page 2

  “There was a disturbance in the palace earlier today. It’s left them somewhat on edge.”

  He studied my bruised jaw and cheek. Despite the curiosity clear in his gaze, he politely refrained from commenting or asking the cause. Instead he queried, “Should we concern ourselves with this?”

  I shook my head and forced a smile. “Not at all, Your Highness.” I spoke to the closest guard, giving him leave to inform King Edmund of his guest’s arrival. I then looked to the young woman. Willem introduced her. “This is Cortesa Vivica Jarlean, my betrothed.”

  She dipped into a graceful curtsy. “I am pleased to meet you, Lord Eadred.”

  “As I am pleased to meet you, Cortesa Vivica.”

  Aware now of their relationship, I waited for their companion to exit the carriage, even peering into the cushioned interior, but couldn’t see anyone else. After a slight hesitation, I queried, “Where is your chaperone?”

  The Prince tapped his hand impatiently against his thigh. “What is a chaperone?”

  I frowned, explaining, “A companion who watches over an engaged couple, for the sake of propriety.”

  They exchanged a quick look of amusement. “It is not our custom. I trust this will not be a problem.”

  There would be no glossing over such a delicate matter, so I attempted to be pragmatic in my response. “Tellen tradition requires that a chaperone be present until the wedding. Is there a servant who might act in this manner?”

  “We have no need of servants. We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves.”

  “Though from what you’ve told me, Willem, perhaps we should have brought our own cook,” Vivica murmured with a smile.

  He gave an amused chuckle in response before returning his attention to me. “Were we mistaken in leaving our cook behind, Lord Eadred?”

  Excluded from understanding such private banter, I said carefully, “Not at all, Prince Willem. As for the matter of the chaperone …”

  Willem bristled, brows drawing together sharply. “It is not our custom.” I feared this would cause no end of trouble for them, yet his tone was so firm, I had no choice but to hold back any words to convince them otherwise.

  The King’s Guard returned with several servants. They informed me the apartment set aside for the Prince’s use was prepared. I heard their whispers, wondering if the lady would join Prince Willem in his or if she required her own. With a few succinct words, I assured them it was the latter. Two servants hurried away to attend to it.

  “While I’m aware cortesa is the title of a woman with noble blood, it will cause confusion for our court. Might I suggest we refer to you as Lady Vivica while you’re in Tellenel?” Willem looked ready to object. “Please, I would not propose it if I didn’t believe it beneficial for you both.”

  At the Prince’s glance, Vivica nodded her agreement.

  The guard holding the spear handed it back. I ignored their clear curiosity and turned to ascend the few steps before the palace doors.

  Entering the grand hall, Willem stared at the marbled pillars and floor, the arched openings between. Then the short stairs leading into the onyx hall. He admired the sweeping majesty of the grand staircase; the sides curling to meet on the second storey, framed by a golden balustrade that extended into a large, circular balcony.

  The angled afternoon light, pouring in from the west through the tall windows on both floors, drew his eyes to the height of the ceiling, a full two levels above.

  “Will my sister be joining us?”

  “Princess Anne will arrive in four more days, I expect, as long as her journey goes as planned.”

  “Of whom do you speak?” he asked, confused. “I spoke of my sister, Anais.”

  I smiled stiffly. “As did I. King Edmund has decreed your sister should be called otherwise, to fit in all the better in Tellenel. Princess Anne knows of his decision and gave her support for his right to do so before I left Arnil Wale.” I hated every word I forced myself to say, the distaste like a stain upon my mouth. I only hoped Willem wasn’t astute enough to hear it.

  “Is that so?” He pressed his lips together, displeased by the news.

  “King Edmund will send a seneschal to inform you of your itinerary while in Sidem. He’s unlikely to have anything formal planned for tonight, especially as your early arrival may have come as a surprise to him. Instruct the seneschal of your needs and he’ll see to it.”

  “This man will speak Chartel?”

  “He’ll speak your language,” I confirmed. And then, because it felt wrong to say nothing, I added, “May I assign a companion for Lady Vivica? There are noblewomen who’ll be more than happy to act as chaperone for you.”

  Willem glared, angered at my insistence their behaviour was improper.

  There were so many things I wanted to explain to Willem, about the inappropriate style of Vivica’s clothing, their lack of chaperone and how it would be misconstrued by our court, by Edmund, but I knew I didn’t have adequate words to convey it without causing offence.

  “That will not be necessary, Lord Eadred, nor desired.”

  “Of course, Prince Willem.”

  He noticed the hovering servant move towards the grand staircase and followed her. They walked up the stairs, staring with curiosity about the palace. My gaze remained trained on Vivica. The way her long hair cascaded down to her waist, the looseness of her dress and soft sway of light material.

  Haunted by the resurfacing of that vision, foreboding filled me. Had I done enough to prevent it or was I being foolish to think there was anything I could do?

  The captain of the King’s Guard entered the grand hall and, seeing me, called out, asking that I wait. “Lord Eadred,” he greeted with a bow. Keen eyes of blue swept up my body, assessing those injuries he could see and those he could not.

  I studied him in turn. His blonde hair was kept short, well suiting his straight, patrician nose, thick eyebrows and striking cleft chin. A man of decisive action, his manner suggested. I gleaned this not only from his military bearing but also from his quick actions in clearing the grand hall earlier in the day. “Captain …?”

  “Suen.” I inclined my head for him to continue, impatient already at the thought of all the questions he must have. “I wish to speak to you about the attack. Is this a good time?” He phrased it with courtesy, but his tone told me I wouldn’t easily escape his inquisition.

  Still, I had to try. “Can’t this wait?”

  “I’ve learnt it’s often best if witnesses describe the event while it’s fresh in their mind,” he said. “I won’t take up too much of your time.”

  “Very well.” I answered his questions, giving vague replies to those parts I still struggled to explain myself. Not satisfied with my responses, he pressed for more information, but I cut him off, unwilling to be detained any longer. “If you will excuse me, Captain Suen, it’s been a long day.”

  He blocked my attempt to leave. “Forgive me for any offence, Lord Eadred, but everything about this attack, in fact more an ambush, is highly irregular. You’re telling me a woman appeared out of nowhere and killed the priest, only to disappear moments later. Convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

  “What are you suggesting? That I’m lying about it?” Anger flared, lacing my voice. I inhaled, trying for calm, but to little effect. This captain couldn’t possibly understand anything of what I’d been through.

  “Not at all,” he smoothly replied. “Prince Earon has confirmed these facts. I only wonder if you’re both mistaken in what you saw. Perhaps even suffered some kind of hallucination.” Declaring his utter disbelief for our version of the events, he continued, “After all, you’ve also described little girls in white dresses, dancing their way through the battle. A scene of extraordinary contradictions, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “If you’ve already formed your conclusions, why bother asking
me about it?” I snapped.

  Captain Suen twisted his lips into a shadow of a smile. “I like to be thorough.”

  Frustrated beyond measure and wanting to be left alone, I glowered at him. “Well, I hope I’ve been of help. Good day.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to protest, returning to my room where I spent the rest of the evening reading Bishop Richard’s correspondence with Siv, trying to understand what it all meant. In the end, disgusted at how my life was discussed and dissected, I threw them in a trunk. Richard should speak to me on these matters, but I trusted in a strong intuition that told me he never would.

  Despite expecting another vision after the blessing, I didn’t hide from it in the manner I usually did. Instead, I went to bed early after ordering Elron, who’d returned and now stood vigil in the hall, to do the same.

  The next morning I opened my door with a stealthy crouch, holding a faint hope I could head to the dining hall before Elron, honest enough to admit to a selfish desire to save myself from his grouchy mood. My plan was spoiled when I found him leaning against the wall opposite my room, arms crossed and expression all too perceptive. I straightened with a grin and fell into step beside him.

  “You seem happier this morning,” he commented.

  “Do I?” Seeing the storm clouds of annoyance cross his face, I laughed, slapping his shoulder. “You’re right, I am.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Why so happy? Yesterday you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  I shrugged and said, “It’s amazing what a good sleep can do.” The vision I’d experienced through the night had been different and hopeful in a way I’d rarely encountered.

  I couldn’t stop my mind from turning over the images. Under my breath I hummed a tune, cherishing the joy it induced, aware all too well such moments were fleeting.

  That singular event would come to pass. It was impossible to guess how far into the future, but my dream told me something important: Anais would find her way to me. One day. Somehow. And I sorely needed to hold onto that hope, with so much around me obscured by darkness.

  With a wave towards the staircase I prompted, “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

  The dining hall was quiet, only a few ministers breaking their fast as they read over important papers. It was unusual to find the hall so empty. Most mornings it echoed with the murmur of hushed conversations, or the loud chatter of those courtiers who were at their best in the early hours of the day.

  The plainest room in the palace, it possessed white walls unadorned by the scrollwork or filigree decoration common in other areas. There were three long tables in the centre, set with over seventy chairs. A wall of arched windows overlooked the southern aspect of the palace grounds. Draperies of vivid burgundy covered them, all but the very top, where a fraction of the morning sunlight came through. Despite this, three chandeliers high above provided most of the light.

  The curtains were always kept drawn. The courtiers, especially Edmund, didn’t like the idea of anyone, guards or visitors alike, walking past the front of the palace and watching them break their fast. It was the one time we were all able to relax, free from the suffocating rules of formality that must be followed for every other occasion. Inspired by such laxity, lords often turned up in their night clothes after an evening of court sponsored revelry. My father frowned on this behaviour, as did all the older nobles. He believed it was preferable to ask for the morning meal to be brought to our rooms, rather than subject the court to such a display. The thought of eating alone, however, didn’t appeal to those vivacious and outgoing people my cousin liked to have as part of his inner circle, and so the tradition continued.

  Servants came over with cutlery and plates, setting them where we directed, food soon following. The lack of formality left Elron comfortable enough to take the seat beside me. He ripped the still warm bread into pieces and stuffed a large portion into his mouth. I nodded my thanks to the man who served us, piling butter onto the soft roll and relishing its freshly baked smell.

  “What are your plans for the day?” I queried between bites.

  He rolled his dark eyes. “Besides keeping you alive?”

  I sighed. “Do you have to do that?”

  He grunted and kept eating. After a second he relented, understanding I was trying to lead him somewhere. “Tell me.”

  “I thought I could show Prince Willem and Lady Vivica around the city. They might enjoy a visit to the cathedral.”

  Elron grunted again, making me wonder if his gift for aggravation was God given, or if he must work at it. I gave him ample opportunity to explain himself, but he only returned to his food, eating it with unmatched vigour and calling for another serving.

  In small groups, the room began to fill. Many were obvious in their desire to speak to me, but I kept my head down and ignored their waves of greeting. A little surprised the more curious among them didn’t force the issue, I glanced up to discover the way Elron glared, and all was explained.

  “I wanted to go to the cathedral to ask the priests what we should do with Father Tyrell’s body,” I said, breaking into his silence.

  “Why? Your father will see to it.”

  “He shouldn’t have to. It’s my responsibility.” I ran fingers through my hair, frustrated he didn’t understand why it was important for me to do this.

  “Here’s your opportunity to ask them.”

  For a second I thought he meant the priests, but then realised where he looked. Willem and Vivica stood uncertainly at the entrance, and I waved. They shared a long, considering look before deciding to join us. Conspicuous in their foreign clothing, courtiers raised their heads to watch them cross the room.

  “Good morning, Prince Willem, Lady Vivica.” I bowed, waving my hand for them to be seated. Willem took the closest one after seeing to Vivica’s comfort.

  “Is the accommodation to your liking?”

  “It is,” he answered curtly, before putting his back to me. Willem murmured something to Vivica, helping her choose from the food the servants brought over.

  I cleared my throat. He glanced over, lifting his brows. “Would you and Lady Vivica like to visit the city? I’d be pleased to guide you.”

  Willem stared disdainfully. “I do not think that will suit us, Lord Eadred.”

  We were about the same age, though he might have a year on me, but he spoke as if there was a vast difference between us and I couldn’t understand it. His sister was never like this, so cold and judgemental.

  A second later, cursing myself for letting it get to me, I pressed, “Why? I made the offer in good faith.”

  Willem let out a quick puff of air through his nose, indignant I asked him to provide justification. “It will not suit us.”

  “That’s not the reason you’ve refused my offer, but an excuse only,” I softly accused.

  Now his green eyes turned cold. “I do not have to explain myself to you, Lord Eadred.”

  “I don’t understand. What have I done to offend you?”

  Vivica murmured something and peered around Willem with a frown, her expression suggesting it would be better if I dropped this. Determined, I stared back at them.

  Finally, Willem relented enough to say, “You implied our conduct was improper. That, because we do not have what you call a chaperone, we engaged in indecent behaviour. In Chartelyr, we do not require a chaperone because we abide by certain mores. To suggest otherwise is highly insulting.”

  “Ah.” I shifted forward in my chair. “You mistook my words yesterday. I’ve spent many months with your sister, explaining the differences between our cultures and learning about yours. Some I learnt too late. Her behaviour and mannerisms made others abundantly clear. But what she has taken three months to learn, I must explain in a faster fashion to you.

  “In Tellenel, e
specially in our court, there are many temptations. In fact, let’s call them encouragements, to ignore moralistic ideals in favour of acting upon one’s impulses. We’ve learnt from the mistakes that can happen when a young couple spends too much time alone before their wedding. That’s why we have chaperones.”

  I appealed to him, explaining, “I never intended to insult you, only to protect you from those who wouldn’t understand. I know Princess Anne. Such innocence only comes from a lack of exposure to, shall we say, the more carnal pleasures.”

  Vivica blushed a bright pink and retreated from view. “Innocence as Lady Vivica now shows,” I pointed out. His jaw was tight as I finished with, “I did not mean to insult you. I only meant to protect you both.”

  Disturbed, he looked away, rubbing his palm along Vivica’s arm, soothing her. A splotchy, red birthmark with undefined edges covered the top of his left hand. She hid it with her own protectively when she saw where I stared. As to my explanation, they offered no reply.

  Both began to eat. A slight expression of distaste, one I’d often observed with Anais, appeared. At my chuckle, Willem frowned, asking, “Something amuses you?”

  “It’s just I’ve seen that same look on your sister’s face at every meal. She never would admit how much she disliked our food, though on one occasion she conceded the flavour was bland. I can’t understand what’s not to like.”

  They exchanged those small smiles again. “You speak as if you know Anais well.”

  “I do. We spent a lot of time together in Arnil Wale and became friends.”

  “A bold claim.”

  “Only the truth.”

  “What did she tell you of me?”

  “That you always saw a warrior hidden within her.” He smiled, those green eyes warming. “You gave her a book of poetry. When she wasn’t reading it, she solved Rene’s puzzles.” A cherished memory of Anais working on those riddles, her teeth worrying at her lips, struck me. I recalled something else then. “She regretted not having anything to give you to remember her by.”

  “It was not required. Tell me a confidence she shared with you as friends often do.”