A Mother's Secrets

by Tuppence Van de Vaarst

  It was too late to worry about it now, though. The carriage was drawing close to Pellalindra’s estate. There she and Niara would be hosted for three days, with whatever entertainments Pellalindra thought appropriate, and then Vinet would go to the masquerade ball to celebrate Pellalindra’s election as Lady of the Council.

  “I still can’t believe you managed to rope me into this,” Gwyn grumbled.

  Vinet managed a smile. Since it was a masquerade, she’d managed to convince Gwyn that she should come. After all, what better place to guard Vinet than right at her side, disguised as a member of the nobility? Privately, she just wanted to see how many nobles mistook Gwyn for a high-ranking member of the nobility and attempted to curry favor with a commoner.

  Glancing at Niara as the carriage pulled to a stop, Vinet wondered, Is it too early to start introducing her around? She’s only six.

  Niara looked out the window of the carriage, oblivious to Vinet’s thoughts. She was looking at everything with wide-eyed wonder. It reminded Vinet of her childhood self. It was that same persistent curiosity that had started her interest in travelling, that kept her researching, that kept her searching for new stories. She felt a surge of protectiveness. Niara deserved to keep that wonder as long as possible.

  You can’t shelter her forever, she reminded herself. As much as she might want to. And if she wanted Niara to become her official heir, then she had better get the support of other nobles. Her second cousins would probably take it amiss if a bastard niece, at least to their knowledge, became Lady of Ninaeva instead of them.

  Gwyn got out of the carriage first, as always. After Vinet stepped out, she turned around and lifted Niara out, straightening the girl’s dress before looking around at the entrance to the Duskryn estate. She blinked. She knew that Duskryn was wealthy, one of the wealthiest holdings of Saemar, in fact, but she hadn’t expected it to be this apparent. The manor, for she couldn’t call it a castle, was built in the middle of a picturesque lake. The lake was filled with lilies and swans, and it didn’t look like the drawbridge had ever been raised in Pellalindra’s lifetime. The stone of the manor was painted in Duskryn blue, with some intricately carved black flowers contrasting at various points along the wall. The lack of obvious defense was a blatant statement that Duskryn was powerful enough not to need to defend itself.

  Vinet’s sharp eyes, however, noticed guards stationed at various points along the wall, aside from the two at the edge of the drawbridge. The guard that caught the majority of her attention, however, was the one waiting at the end of the drawbridge for them. It was the elven guard she’d met at Pellalindra’s townhouse in the capital. What was his name? Saihid, that was it.

  He seemed a great deal more confident now than he’d been when he’d just stumbled upon them the first time they’d met. He bowed as Vinet approached. “Lady Vinet of Ninaeva, welcome to Duskryn.”

  Vinet smiled at him. “Thank you, Saihid,” she said. Saihid jumped slightly, and she realized that he’d never actually told her his name.

  Niara saved everyone from awkwardness. She stared open-mouthed at Saihid. “You’re an elf!” she exclaimed.

  Saihid looked down at the little girl. “Ah, yes?” he said.

  Niara stared at him. “Are your ears real?” she demanded.

  “Niara!” Vinet exclaimed. “Yes, his ears are real, and that’s a very impertinent question.”

  Niara flushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  Saihid smiled. “No need to apologize,” he said. He crouched down. “Would you like a better look?”

  Niara looked at Vinet, and she gave an encouraging nod. Niara hesitantly stepped closer, peering at Saihid’s ears.

  “Why do they do that?” she asked.

  Vinet suppressed a smile. Niara never did shrink from the difficult questions.

  Saihid blinked. “Um… I don’t know,” he said. “Because I’m an elf?”

  Niara folded her arms. “That’s not an answer!” she said.

  “Niara,” Vinet cut in.

  The warning was all Niara needed. “Sorry,” she said again.

  Saihid chuckled. “I know it’s not an answer. There are many things I don’t know.”

  Niara frowned. “I don’t like not knowing things.”

  It seemed to Vinet that Saihid’s eyes darkened slightly, out of sadness or anger, she couldn’t tell. She instinctively placed a hand on Niara’s shoulder.

  He just shook his head. “Neither do I, my lady.”

  Niara flushed in pleasure. “I’m not a lady!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes, you are,” Vinet squeezed her shoulder. “Didn’t I explain this?”

  Niara brightened at the reminder.

  Vinet smiled at Saihid. “Would you be so good as to tell Lady Pellalindra we’ve arrived?” she asked.

  Saihid started and straightened. “Of course! I’ll take you to her at once.”

  Vinet caught Gwyn’s eye as they crossed the bridge and raised her eyebrow questioningly. Gwyn and Saihid had struck up a friendship that first encounter, and if there was any chance to learn more about him, Vinet wanted to take advantage of it. Gwyn rolled her eyes, but nodded, a smile on her face.

  Saihid led them straight through the manor, turning neither left or right. The main entrance hallway was magnificent, with portraits and other paintings lining the walls. The stairway upstairs was made of polished oak, with intricately carved banisters. Vinet didn’t get a chance to examine any of the decoration, however, as Saihid led them through to the back entrance.

  “My lady is waiting for you in the garden with some refreshments,” Saihid said.

  Vinet nodded. “Thank you, Saihid.” She met Gwyn’s eyes and nodded. As she and Niara entered the gardens, Gwyn turned to walk with Saihid.

  Pellalindra was sitting on a little patio with a table and chairs set out for tea. Vinet looked around the garden in appreciation. Although very different from Ninaeva, the flower beds and plants were arranged with impeccable taste.

  Pellalindra rose as they approached. “Lady Vinet! I hope your journey was pleasant.”

  Vinet smiled. “I love journeys, Lady Pellalindra. And I had company this time.” She looked at Niara. “May I present my niece, Niara? Niara, this is Lady Pellalindra.”

  To Vinet’s relief, Niara managed a credible curtsy. The young girl screwed up her face briefly as she remembered the phrase she had memorized. “Thank you for inviting us, Lady Pellalindra,” she glanced at Vinet, beaming that she had remembered.

  Pellalindra clasped her hands in front of her, and Vinet could see the expression of delight in her eyes. She relaxed. Niara had made another conquest. There was nothing to worry about.

  Pellalindra dipped a small curtsy to Niara. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Niara,” she said. “Would you and your aunt be so kind as to join us for some tea?”

  Niara nodded eagerly. Vinet’s lips twitched as she tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. Niara had seen the cakes on the table.

  They sat down, and Vinet handed Niara one of the cakes without prompting. Niara gasped in delight as she took the first bite. Vinet made sure there was a napkin ready. Try as she might, Niara was going to get crumbs all over her nice dress.

  Pellalindra smiled at Niara. “Do you like cake, Lady Niara?”

  Niara nodded so hard her hair tumbled into her face, then paused in the middle of a bite and glanced at Vinet worriedly. Vinet smiled reassuringly. Niara went back to eating with barely restrained delight.

  Vinet took a bite of a cake herself and nodded. A little sweeter and lighter than she was used to, but then again, down here in the south things didn’t need to be as hearty as in the north.

  “So, Lady Niara, are you taking any lessons?”

  Vinet smiled. Pellalindra could not have chosen a more perfect topic.

  Niara nodded. “Lots! I love the library! There’re all kinds of books about these strange places and creatures! I don’t like figuring much, but the seneschal says it’s important, an
d Aunt Gwyn is teaching me to use a knife!” She reached for another cake, despite still chewing on the first one.

  Pellalindra’s eyes darted to Vinet, and Vinet concealed a wince. She had forgotten to tell Niara not to call Gwyn her aunt. And as for knife-fighting...

  “A knife?” Pellalindra said, feigning at having not heard Niara clearly.

  Niara nodded, oblivious. “She says if I’m going to travel like I want then I ought to be able to defend myself. She says I’m already better than my Aunt Vinet!”

  Vinet felt her cheeks flush. That was true. She’d never had any aptitude, or interest, in any kind of martial art.

  She decided to make light of the conversation. “Gwyn would be training me, if she thought she could,” she said. “Unfortunately for her peace of mind, I never wanted to learn, so she rectifies the situation by staying close to me.”

  Pellalindra nodded. “Saihid has never offered to teach me,” she said, trying to match Vinet’s lightness.

  Vinet suppressed a laugh at the mental image of Pellalindra dressed in anything other than an elaborate dress for combat training. “Well, Gwyn’s first offer was when I was eight,” she said. “Things are a bit different that young.”

  Pellalindra nodded and turned back to Niara. “So, you like reading?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Niara exclaimed. “Especially the old tales. Aunt Vinet has a whole collection. I must be quiet when I read them, though, otherwise the scholars get all annoyed at me. It makes it hard to act them out,” she finished in a disappointed tone.

  Vinet suppressed a smile, then shared an amused glance with Pellalindra when she saw she was doing the same thing.

  Pellalindra kept her voice remarkably level. “It is important to have a quiet place to study.”

  Niara nodded. “I know,” she said. “But sometimes I just want to act things out! Like the tale of King Enlil and the Dragonriders!”

  That was a Saemarian legend so common that every child had heard it. It was no wonder that it was foremost in Niara’s mind. The Dragon’s Day parade had been the day before they’d left Ninaeva.

  Pellalindra smiled. “That is a good legend. Maybe you’d like to tell it to my son? Would you like to meet him?”

  Vinet saw Niara visibly brace herself. She had warned her this would happen.

  “I would be honored,” Niara managed in a formal voice.

  The formal voice seemed to charm Pellalindra. She waved for a servant, and a few minutes later a woman dressed in servant’s clothing came out, leading a toddling boy by the hand.

  Niara glanced at Vinet, then stood up. Vinet and Pellalindra followed suit.

  Pellalindra smiled warmly at the boy. “Percival, this is Lady Niara. Lady Niara, my son, Lord Percival.”

  Niara looked very confused about curtsying to a boy half her height, but she managed anyway. Percival gave her a stiff little bow.

  Pellalindra smiled her approval at the two of them. “Maddy, why don’t you take Percival and Lady Niara down to the fountain, and Lady Niara can tell him the tale of Enlil and the Dragonriders.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  Niara looked at Vinet for approval before following the two. As they walked out of earshot, Vinet heard her say to Percival, “So, do you like dragons?”

  Vinet watched the two of them until they were out of sight. Hopefully, Niara wouldn’t scandalize Percival too much.

  “Your niece is a treasure,” Pellalindra said.

  Vinet smiled. “I adore her,” she replied. She looked at Pellalindra, aware that her next statement might be shocking. “I want to make her my heir.”

  Pellalindra raised an eyebrow. “Your sister’s daughter?” she said, tactfully leaving out the part where Niara’s father was unknown.

  Vinet nodded firmly. “She’s my closest relative, aside from my sister, who can’t inherit now that she’s in the convent.”

  Pellalindra nodded slowly. “It might be possible. Bastards have inherited before.”

  Vinet nodded. One of the more famous Saemarian kings, King Darrien II, had been a bastard. Granted, there had been no other contenders to the throne because his father’s wife had been infertile, but still.

  Pellalindra frowned but nodded once and slow. “Well, I’ll support you if you do decide to make it official. She’s a dear.”

  Vinet suppressed a triumphant smile. “Thank you, Lady Pellalindra.”

  Pellalindra leaned back in her chair and raised a cup of tea to her lips. “Not at all. Are you looking forward to the masquerade?”

  Was she? Vinet wondered. She didn’t tend to like parties. But it had the potential to be fun. “Of course,” she said politely. She smiled. “I had a lot of fun picking out my mask.”

  Pellalindra smiled. “Do let me know what it is. Although it is a masquerade, at least one person needs to know who everyone is, and as hostess that is my duty.”

  Vinet nodded. “You mentioned we could bring a guest. Gwyn will be there as mine.”

  Pellalindra’s eyebrows rose, but otherwise she didn’t react. “That’s good. Saihid will have someone to talk to.”

  So, Gwyn wouldn’t be the only guard in a mask. Vinet briefly wondered if Aed, Conn’s bodyguard, would also be there.

  “Have you heard of the new issues for the Council to discuss?”

  Vinet raised an eyebrow at the shift in topic. “Seems things have settled down a bit since last time.”

  Pellalindra nodded. “There are still one or two things I want your opinion on.”

  Vinet leaned back as Pellalindra started to elaborate. Pellalindra was trying to win her good opinion by asking for counsel. She wouldn’t forget her manipulation as easily as that, but it would do no harm to listen.

  **********

  “I can’t believe you got me into this thing,” Gwyn complained.

  Vinet suppressed a smile, then realized she didn’t need to with the mask in front of her face. She grinned. “You look absolutely wonderful.”

  Her friend truly did. Somehow, Vinet had been able to choose the entire costume. Gwyn’s long blonde hair was braided into golden tresses instead of tied up neatly in a bun, and it contrasted magnificently with the feathered black gown. The mask, also black, was a stylized raven.

  The raven face turned to her, and Vinet didn’t need to see Gwyn’s face to know she was glaring. “I can’t move,” she said.

  Vinet laughed. “Nonsense. The skirt can be torn loose, and you have your daggers strapped to your thighs. I took these things into consideration.”

  Gwyn shook her head, but Vinet sensed that part of the argument was over. “And I can’t believe you are wearing that mask,” Gwyn said.

  Vinet smiled. Her outfit was her own spark of rebellion. She wore a green dress, simply cut, but made of the finest silk, and trimmed with blue and brown so as to remind one of a sylvan glade. Her mask was green, but no one could miss the long elf ears attached to it.

  “What’s wrong with my mask?” she asked, her voice saturated in mischief.

  Gwyn sighed. “If someone guessed…”

  Vinet shook her head. “That’s the beauty. It’s right in front of their faces, but no one will ever guess. This is a masquerade, remember?”

  She was confronted with the truth of that statement as they entered the main ballroom. From the top of the stairs, she could see people swarming about, all dressed in elaborate costumes with masks. Vinet halted a moment to take it in. She had never realized how accustomed she was to seeing people’s faces.

  She was glad of Gwyn beside her; at least there was one person here she knew.

  As her gaze swept the hall, she noticed a woman in a dark blue gown standing at the bottom of the stairs. Although she wore a mask, it was only a thin strip of blue cloth, and the elaborate black hairstyle marked her as Pellalindra. Well, the hostess would want people to be able to recognize her.

  Especially Pellalindra, her cynicism said. She wants congratulations for becoming Lady of the Council.


  She silenced that voice as she and Gwyn descended the stairs. Pellalindra was deep in conversation with four other nobles. From the broad shoulders and the wolf mask, one of them had to be Conn, which meant one of the women was probably Maeve. Whether she was the woman in the starling mask or the plain aqua mask, she couldn’t tell. The other man wore a golden peacock mask, and even standing still he was strutting enough for one.

  “Lady Pellalindra, this is a wonderful ball,” Vinet said as she approached the group. “I have never seen such finery.” Purest flattery, of course, but that was what was expected.

  Pellalindra smiled. “It is only what we should provide,” she said. Her gaze switched briefly from Vinet to Gwyn. “You two simply must give me the name of your seamstress.”

  The four other nobles perked up. They were expecting a location, Vinet realized. Something to give them a hint of her identity.

  She laughed. “I’ll let you know once the ball is over,” she promised.

  The woman in the aqua mask whispered something in Conn’s ear, and he laughed. The woman in the starling mask stared at them, and then grabbed Conn’s arm, saying lightly, “Let’s dance, dear.”

  Well, that answered the question about which woman was Maeve.

  The man in the golden peacock mask nodded amiably to the ladies before swaggering off.

  Vinet glanced at Gwyn. She seemed to be observing everything. Still in bodyguard mode. She rolled her eyes in amusement.

  “Are you enjoying the ball?” Vinet asked the woman in the aqua mask.

  The woman laughed. “Indeed! Oh,” she turned to Pellalindra. “You have my sincerest congratulations on your new position, dear.”

  Vinet blinked. Did she know that voice?

  Pellalindra looked taken aback but managed to accept the expression graciously. Before anything else could be said, a man clad all in royal purple approached them. His mask had a crown.

  He bowed smoothly. “My greetings, ladies. Lady Duskryn, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”