Petras nodded. “We’ll invade Woodwyn. And attack Tourin.”
Over my dead body, Silas thought. He had one month to set things right and figure out if this damned Fafnir was a hoax. “I’ll get right to work.”
Petras wandered back to his desk. “Fine. You may go.”
On the way to his room, Silas whispered to Dimitri, “Did you keep Romak from listening at the door?”
“Didn’t need to. Turns out he wanted to talk to me in private.” Dimitri withdrew a small dagger from his sleeve. “He gave me this.”
“What the hell?” Silas eyed the sharp dagger. “Does he expect you to assassinate me?”
“Not me.” Dimitri slid the dagger back up his sleeve. “He’s hoping Lady Gwennore will do it.”
“What?”
Dimitri smirked. “Romak laid a huge wager on when the elfin woman would stab you to death in your sleep. He asked me to pass the dagger on to her and encourage her to wait till tomorrow night to do the deed. If she does as I ask, he’ll give me ten percent of his winnings.”
Silas scoffed. “Ridiculous.”
“I know.” Dimitri grinned. “I held out for twenty-five percent.”
Silas cuffed him on the shoulder.
Dimitri laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t give her the dagger.”
“Go ahead and do it.”
“Are you kidding? When she’s pissed at you?”
Silas shot him an annoyed look. “She might need it for self-defense.”
“From you?”
Silas punched him harder. “I would never hurt her.”
“No, you just lie and deceive and—”
“Sod off.”
Dimitri grinned. “I’ll go then. See you at dinner.”
* * *
Gwennore was dressed in a shift and lounging in front of the hearth, drying her hair, when Nissa arrived to help her dress for dinner.
“It’s good to see you again.” Gwennore smiled at her. “Thank you for agreeing to be my maid.”
Nissa blushed. “The other maids are afraid of you, my lady, but I told them you’re actually nice. Unfortunately, they’re still convinced that you’ll murder your lover—”
“Excuse me?”
Nissa bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that. How about a blue gown, since it’s Sapphirday? It would look lovely with your eyes.”
Gwennore followed her into the dressing room. “People are saying I’m going to murder General Dravenko?”
Nissa glanced at the chair and dressing table pushed up against the door to Silas’s dressing room. “Oh, my, is the affair over?”
“No, it—”
“Oh, thank the Light. I can’t imagine anyone turning down an affair with the general. He’s so handsome.” Nissa selected a blue velvet gown.
“But I heard no one wants to marry him or Dimitri,” Gwennore said as the gown slid over her shoulders.
“Or Aleksi,” Nissa added. “Because of you-know-what.”
“The Curse of the Three Clans?”
Nissa grimaced and looked around.
“We’re alone here, Nissa. I hope to get rid of the curse, but it will be hard to do if I don’t learn more about it.”
Nissa grabbed on to the gold-painted wooden orb that hung from the leather thong around her neck. “May the Light protect us.”
“There could be no harm in simply repeating the story,” Gwen insisted. “Can you tell me how the curse started?”
“It was five hundred years ago,” Nissa whispered. “When the Ancient Ones ruled the skies and the country.”
Gwennore recalled that the giant redwoods had referred to the Ancient Ones. “Who are the Ancient Ones?”
“The first dragons.” Nissa leaned close. “They were vicious and hoarded all the gold and jewels for themselves. If the Norveshki people didn’t mine the mountains and give the dragons enough gold and precious jewels, the dragons would set their villages ablaze.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“Oh, it was.” Nissa nodded, her eyes wide. “We were like their slaves. But about five hundred years ago, the dragons became lazy. All they wanted to do was lie about their caves, wallowing in piles of gold and jewels. And that’s when a wealthy man named Magnus made a deal with them. Magnus owned several mountains that were said to be full of rubies and emeralds. If his seven sons mined the mountains for the dragons, then the dragons would let him rule over the Norveshki people in their stead, as long as he did whatever the dragons told him to do.”
Gwennore nodded. “So this Magnus made himself king?”
“Yes, although he was more like a puppet for the dragons.” Nissa tightened the laces on Gwennore’s gown as she continued. “But then something terrible happened. One of the mountains caved in while the seven sons were inside, and the oldest two were killed.”
“So five of them survived?” Gwennore asked.
“They were injured terribly,” Nissa whispered. “Magnus was afraid they would die and he would have no heir to the throne, so he begged the dragons to help him. And one of them, by the name of Fafnir, said he would help.”
“How?”
Nissa hesitated. “I—I dare not say. But two more of the brothers died because of it. Only three of them survived what Fafnir did. Their names were Draven, Tolen, and Maren. Even though they lived, they blamed the dragons for the deaths of their brothers. So eventually, they rebelled against the Ancient Ones and overthrew them. It made the old dragons furious, so they cursed the three brothers and their progeny for all eternity.”
“So the Three Cursed Clans are the descendants of those three brothers?”
Nissa nodded. “The Dravenko clan is descended from Draven. And then, there’s the Tolenko clan and Marenko clan.”
So Dimitri was from the Tolenko clan and Aleksi from the Marenko, Gwennore thought. It made sense since she knew the word ko in Norveshki meant “son of.” “And women are afraid to marry into those clans?”
With a wince, Nissa touched the golden bead on her necklace. “According to the curse, the descendants’ seed will shrivel and die. And all those who thirst for power will go mad. So it is believed that any woman who marries into the three clans is doomed. She’ll lose her children, go insane, or die a terrible death.”
Gwennore scoffed. “Obviously, some of the children have survived, or the clans wouldn’t still be here after five hundred years.”
“Oh.” Nissa tilted her head, considering. “Well, there aren’t that many descendants. You can usually tell who the men are, since they all tend to have black hair.”
Gwennore recalled that most of the people she’d seen in Norveshka had either red or blond hair. And from what she’d seen of the villages, it appeared that infant mortality might be a serious problem for the entire country. “I noticed when we were traveling today that there aren’t many children in any of the villages.”
Nissa heaved a mournful sigh. “That’s because the curse has spread beyond the three clans, and now the whole country is suffering.”
“But I doubt a curse could do that. It would make more sense if it was caused by something like the plague that swept through the country about twenty years ago.”
Nissa hung her head. “Even if that’s true, everyone believes the plague is simply part of the curse. Women all over the country are having trouble conceiving children.”
Gwennore swallowed hard. No wonder Silas was desperate. If the Norveshki were suffering from widespread infertility, the country would not survive. “Thank you for telling me, Nissa. I will do my best to help.”
“Thank you.” Nissa selected a pair of blue slippers. “I knew you couldn’t be vicious like the others say.”
Gwennore rolled her eyes, then slipped her feet into the blue velvet shoes. All this time spent dressing up seemed like a waste. She and Silas had made plans on the journey, and she was eager to set them into motion.
“Come and sit.” Nissa motioned to the chair. “We need to do your hair.”
Once Nissa had arranged her hair on top of her head, she stepped back. “All done. What do you think?”
Gwennore took a deep breath. She’d never looked this good before. “You worked a miracle. Thank you.”
Nissa snorted. “Not really. Once I got used to your pointed ears, I realized how beautiful you are. It’s no wonder the general fell for you.”
I wish. The thought made Gwennore grow still and stare at herself in the mirror. Did she really want Silas to fall for her?
What did he really think of her? With her hair up, her neck seemed long and slender. And the cut of the gown made her waist seem tiny and her breasts practically pop out. He had said he was attracted to her, and even though a part of her had thrilled at his words, another part had suspected he was merely using flattery in order to gain her cooperation.
She sighed. The last two and a half years that she’d spent in Eberon and Tourin had made her distrustful of anyone other than her sisters.
“Hello?” a female voice called out from the bedchamber.
“Yes?” Gwennore strode into her bedchamber and discovered Lady Olenka, dressed in a dark-blue silk gown. She wore a matching blue ribbon around her neck with a small sapphire. She was also wearing two small sapphire rings. Of course, Gwennore thought. It was Sapphirday.
“Why, look at you!” Lady Olenka clasped her hands together. “You look fabulous!”
Gwennore blushed. “Thank you.”
Olenka waved a hand at Nissa. “You may go.” As Nissa hurried from the room, Olenka’s gaze drifted over Gwennore. “Oh, dear. Oh, no.” She pressed a hand to her chest as a look of horror crossed her face. “I am shocked! Shocked and appalled!”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“You have absolutely no jewels!” Olenka cried. “Not even a single ring!”
“I’m not accustomed to wearing—”
“This is unbelievable!” Olenka fanned herself as if she were ready to faint from the shock. “How can the general call himself your lover and not give you any jewelry?”
“Well, I—”
“It’s insulting! How dare he treat you like that.” Olenka stepped closer and lowered her voice. “No wonder people are saying you’re going to murder him in his sleep.”
“I would never—”
“Oh, I know.” Olenka touched her shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look. “All those terrible people wagering that you’ll stab the general to death in his sleep. I mean, really, who could kill the man? He’s so gorgeous!”
“Actually, I wouldn’t stab anyone, regardless of their looks.”
“Of course not!” Olenka sighed dramatically. “As your close friend, I know you’re not the sort to go about killing someone.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate that.”
“What are friends for?” Olenka waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll have you know that I refused to participate in any wagers that you would kill the general. Everyone thought I was being foolish, but I bet that you would only wound the general.”
Gwennore blinked. “What?”
“A small wound, that’s all I ask. Just between us friends. All right?” Olenka winked.
“You expect me to stab him?”
“Just a flesh wound. Two nights from tonight.” Olenka drew a small, jeweled dagger from her sleeve. “Isn’t it lovely? It’s my gift to you.”
“I don’t really need—”
“Oh, I’m sure you have your own knives, but I wanted to be helpful.” Olenka dashed over to the bed and slipped the dagger underneath a pillow. “There! Now you’re all set! You won’t let me down, right?”
A knock sounded at the door, then Lady Margosha entered, carrying a blue velvet bag. “Oh, you wore blue. Perfect!” She nodded at Olenka. “Don’t you both look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” Olenka eyed the velvet bag. “What do you have there?”
“A small gift from General Dravenko.” With a smile, Margosha opened the bag. “This necklace belonged to his mother.”
Olenka gasped when Margosha pulled out a sparkling necklace of sapphires and diamonds.
With a gulp, Gwennore stepped back. “I shouldn’t have something that belonged to his mother. It should go to Sorcha.”
“Now, now. You know how fond the general is of you.” Margosha fitted the necklace around Gwennore’s neck. “And here is the matching ring.”
With her heart pounding, Gwennore slipped on the sapphire ring. This couldn’t mean anything. Silas was just playing his role as her lover. When she left in a month, she would give these back to him.
And say good-bye. The thought made her heart tighten. There’s no one else like him. No one makes my heart race like him. The scoundrel. No one exasperated her like him.
“They’re magnificent!” Olenka cried, eyeing the jewels with an astounded look.
“Yes.” Margosha smiled. “The general is quite generous.”
With a wince, Olenka leaned close and whispered, “Don’t hurt him too much. Just a tiny scratch, all right?”
“Excuse me?” Margosha asked.
“It’s nothing!” Olenka dashed from the room.
Margosha shook her head. “Silas wanted me to escort you to the Great Hall for dinner. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Gwennore took a deep breath to steady her nerves and followed Margosha into the hallway. “Will there be many people there?”
“Just the usual courtiers.” Margosha led the way down the hall toward the western wing. “But there is a group of traveling minstrels here tonight, so after dinner, there will be some dancing.”
“I see.”
Margosha leaned close. “Silas explained the plan you came up with. He thinks tonight will be the perfect time for us to do it. The queen will be busy at the dance tonight, so her dressing room will be vacant. I have readied everything we’ll need to test her clothing and jewels.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” Gwennore smiled at Margosha. “I’m quite eager to get on with our investigation.”
“Silas is eager, too.” Margosha led her down some stairs. “After we reach the Great Hall, I’ll have to leave you for a while. I need to taste everything before it’s taken to the royal table.”
“It worries me that you do that.”
Margosha squeezed her hand. “Don’t let it concern you. I’m glad to be of service.”
“Silas is lucky to have you.”
“He’s a good man.”
Hero or scoundrel? Gwennore thought. Perhaps a bit of both.
When they reached the western wing, Gwennore paused a moment at the entrance. The Great Hall took up the entire length of the wing. A vaulted ceiling soared two floors overhead. As she glanced at the ceiling, she realized that the nursery was overhead. A balcony at the back of the Great Hall was filled with the minstrels who were tuning their instruments. At the front of the hall, a dais held a long table with three gilded chairs. Over each chair, a coronet of jewels hung from the ceiling.
Down each side of the Great Hall, there was a line of smaller tables and chairs. The center of the room was left vacant. For dancing, Gwennore assumed. On the side facing the outside of the castle, long windows overlooked the village of Dreshka.
Three enormous chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, providing several tiers of candles to illuminate the large room. More flames flickered in the candles of numerous wall sconces.
Margosha pointed at Dimitri, who was standing by a small table close to the dais. “You can eat there with the colonel. That table is reserved for nobles.”
“I’m not noble,” Gwennore whispered.
“You are here.” Margosha leaned close. “And as the general’s mistress, you automatically have a higher rank than the other women here. Except the queen, of course.”
Gwennore swallowed hard. Already, she could see other cou
rtiers eyeing her suspiciously. She looked around, but Silas was nowhere to be found.
“I’ll see you soon.” Margosha rushed away.
Gwennore squared her shoulders. After one more check that her mental shield was solidly in place, she strode toward Dimitri.
“My lady.” A thin man with beady dark eyes stepped in front of her and bowed low. “May I introduce myself? I am Lord Romak, personal secretary to His Majesty, the king.”
Gwennore curtsied. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
He gave her a brittle smile. “I must admit to a certain curiosity about you, my dear. General Dravenko has never brought a mistress to court before. He usually keeps his women at the army camp, where they belong.”
“Is that so?” Gwennore affected a bored look, even though the man’s rudeness was making her tense.
“How long have you been with the general?” Romak asked.
Gwennore waved a dismissive hand. “I doubt our affair is of any interest to you.”
“Oh, but it is.” Romak’s eyes narrowed. “As the king’s secretary, I must keep myself fully informed of everything happening in our country. I must say, I find it hard to believe that any woman would want to involve herself with the general. He’s from one of the cursed clans, you know.”
Gwennore snorted. The nerve of this man. He had black hair mixed in with the gray, so he was also a descendant of one the Three Cursed Clans. “I don’t frighten easily.”
“I suppose not. I’ve heard the elves are quite vicious when it comes to war. But I have to question how trustworthy the general is. After all, we are at war with Woodwyn, yet he has brought an elfin mistress to the capital.”
“I am not here to cause any trouble, my lord.”
Romak smirked. “How about we stop with the games and tell the truth?”
She arched a brow. “You first.”
His mouth twisted into a sneer. “I know you’re up to something. I have my own sources, you see, so I know the general’s tale about you is false. You’re not from Woodwyn. You’re the adopted sister of the queens of Eberon and Tourin. Are you here to spy for them?”
“No, of course not.”
He scowled at her. “Are you planning to tell your sisters about the curse?”
“No. Why would I, when I don’t believe it is real?”
Eight Simple Rules for Dating a Dragon Page 15