by R. J. Price
“Why were we sent for, then?” Para asked.
“Because the throne has a vicious sense of humour,” Telm muttered to Aren, almost too quietly for Para to hear.
Aren swore, turning slightly to Telm. “Tell it to keep to itself.”
“It’s a good thing she commanded us here,” Cerlot said. “Else how— Wait. Are you mated to Lord Jer?”
“I am mated to no one,” Aren said. “Lord Jer adopted me before the court. He is my brother, but not your son. Just as I am his sister, but not his brother’s sister. Because he is now related to me, and is a warrior, he takes precedence over any other male relative. Unless,”—Aren motioned between Cerlot and Jer, stepping well out of the way—“you would like to challenge his right to sit beside me as aide to the throne?”
“I do challenge his right,” Cerlot said.
“You idiot,” Para snapped at Cerlot. “She means fight him for it, not actually challenge him. That’s how that rank sorts things out. Whoever is still alive, gets the seat.”
“Oh.” Cerlot paled. “No, no, I would not want to do that.”
Jer cocked his head at Cerlot, his pupils expanded just slightly. “We’re of an age. You might stand a chance.”
“No, thank you, after sitting beside the throne for a decade, I’m sure you know what you’re talking about,” Cerlot said quickly. “Whereas me, well, how could I know? But there are traditions to follow.”
“Yes, of course,” Para said. “We’re here to protect you, darling. Though that was not why we were coming to court in the first place, that is how it worked out. We will need to see your heads and masters. I know how those traditions go. Then there’s a mating to see to.”
“Lady Telm is my head of house,” Aren said.
“That won’t do at all,” Para said. “Your rank does not get along. Your father can be steward and I will be head of house.”
“To which half the staff leave,” Telm grumbled.
Aren turned to Telm. “You will command them to stay. Lady Telm, tradition dictates they have the ability to dismiss you. You are relieved of your head of house status. And your other title. What was it, house master?”
“That it was,” Telm said bitterly.
“I hope, instead, you will take a position as my handmaid,” Aren spoke, raising her voice. “I would be honoured if you served me.”
“There are things that need seeing to,” Telm said to Aren.
Aren shrugged. “You are no longer head of house, therefore those things are no longer your concern. Set them up in the family area.”
“But that area is—“ Telm frowned at Aren.
“Just do it, please,” Aren said far too sweetly before she turned to Jer. “I suppose this means you are dismissed from steward. But at least I don’t need to worry about you leaving court because of that.”
“Not until you’re mated, at least,” Jer responded.
“I’d like to make a change of my own,” Aren said to Jer. “If I can.”
The smile was so unlike the pouty child Para sent to court. There was hope, still, that Aren had grown into a responsible young woman.
“And what is that?” Jer asked. “Would you like us to walk on the ceiling? Drink the purple water, perhaps?”
“I’d like a change to master,” Aren said to Jer, not bothering to project her voice for anyone else to hear. “Can I do that?”
“You can dismiss the master, but only with my agreement,” Jer responded, frowning at Aren. “Why would you want to dismiss Av?”
“Because I believe your father could do a better job,” Aren said quickly. “I believe yesterday morning when he arrived, he made his point very clear to everyone at court.”
Jer almost smiled, but caught himself. He turned to the lords and raised his voice. “Av!”
Av stepped out of the lords. His boyish features had hardened, the baby fat burned away, and all that remained was a man. Broad and tall, the sight of Av made Para’s heart skip a beat. To think, she could have said no to Cerlot and chased Av instead, she might have been mated to that gorgeous man instead of the lump of stupid standing beside her.
“We've decided to dismiss you as master,” Jer said.
Av sputtered, looking flustered. For a moment Para wondered if Av had never been quite as smart as she thought. Perhaps she had been blinded by attraction. Yet the moment passed and a warrior stood in his place.
“Why?” Av asked.
“Lady Aren believes Father could do a better job,” Jer said.
Both turned to a greying man in the crowd, who looked more startled than Av had. The grey eyes shifted up in thought, the lips moved in words spoken silent. Giving his head a shake, the man stepped forward. It was only then that Para recognized the old master of the palace.
Years had not been kind to Ervam. Grief lined his face, ten years since his mate passed and he carried the burden as if it happened only the day before.
“Can’t believe you managed that one,” Ervam said to Aren, before glancing at Av and back to Jer. “I will fill the void left by Av. Does that mean I can—“
“Wait until after court, Lord Ervam,” Aren called back, then said to the court: “I am dismissing court. You have my commands, I will hold my audiences as Lord Jer dictates.”
Para stepped forward as the lords and ladies began filtering out. “I can’t believe you’re a queen!”
Aren’s smile melted away, her friendliness evaporated, and the sullen child was back. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“We would have come immediately if we had only known,” Para responded.
“Of course, because a rank is worth something,” Aren responded.
“What?” Cerlot asked. “No. Because you’re our daughter. Why don’t we go to your rooms and we can converse in private as to family affairs?”
Aren’s eyes flickered from Para, to Cerlot, and then back to Para. There was no hiding the hatred as she said, “Lord Jer, at no point are my parents to be left without a guardian. At no point am I to be alone with either of them unless you, Lord Av, or Lord Ervam is present. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Jer said. “Lady Aren.”
“Good, Lady Telm? Come.” Aren brushed past Para and out of the throne room.
Av and Ervam stepped up behind Jer, both frowning as they looked over Para and Cerlot.
“What exactly is your connection to my daughter?” Para asked Av, smiling sweetly.
“I took her virginity,” Av said bluntly. “My attraction to you revolved around the fact that I was drunk, Lady Para, and had nothing to do with you.” He turned to Jer. “Did she just issue a command?”
“Yes, but I think we need to have a private discussion as to a family matter,” Jer said quietly. “I’ll fill the two of you in. You two,”—he motioned to Para and Cerlot—“stay here. A servant will be along shortly to retrieve you and show you to the family area.”
Para stood, stunned as the three lords left. Once alone, Cerlot snorted in derision.
“Did you really sleep with that slob?” he asked Para.
“Once,” Para said, turning slowly to the throne room doors. “We were both very drunk.”
“Something seems a little off,” Cerlot muttered. “We’re the parents of the one who sits the throne, we should be welcomed with open arms. I don’t think we’re wanted here.”
“We’ll just have to make ourselves needed,” Para said, coming back to herself.
Chapter Ten
Jer closed the door to the small sitting room and dropped into the first chair he found. “You slept with that stick?”
“We were both very drunk,” Av said. “It happened once and I’m not even certain we did sleep with one another, just woke up beside each other.”
The moment Para had laid eyes on Av, Jer had known. Av, in the past, had numerous drunken tumbles with women he would normally avoid while sober. Each always had that look in her eyes when she looked to Av. A lusty craving, a desire for the blood.
“Better and more important point,” their father took another chair, “is how long before Aren was born?”
“Uh,” Av considered, “a year and a half?”
Meaning Av had only been fourteen at that time, Para eighteen. At that time in a boy's life he was being introduced to a great many things. One of those things should not have been a woman four years older than him. Likely it had been one of those nights Av snuck out to join up with his friends, one of the nights their father never talked about.
“Good, back to tormenting him for sleeping with that terrible personality,” Ervam said to Jer.
“I was drunk,” Av protested.
“If you squint at Para,” Jer squinted pointedly, “she sort of looks like Aren. Maybe that’s why Av is chasing Aren. Trying to relive a drunken night twenty years ago, are you Av?”
“I’m not allowed to be alone with Aren and you choose now to do this?” Av bellowed at Jr.
For a moment Jer felt bad, but only a moment. Then he grinned. After years of being teased by Av, it was good to be able to give as he had received. Jer adjusted in the chair and sighed.
“Aren says her parents need a guardian and one of us has to be there if they want to visit her,” Jer said, changing the subject while he thought up another good jab. “She said it with a great deal of anger. And Telm was not exactly setting a good example of how to behave in public.”
“Better anger than shutting down,” Ervam responded. “If Para and Cerlot thought they could stay at court after Aren is mated, no doubt they are having second guesses. This was not expected. They shouldn’t have received the missive until tomorrow, which would have given us time to at least find an intended and announce intention in order to keep them at bay.”
Av cleared his throat awkwardly. Their father looked at Av, then scowled at Jer.
Jer picked at a thread on his trousers. “We... haven’t sent a missive yet.”
“When were you going to?” was the angry response. “This tradition was created for a reason, now is not the time to be altering it.”
“Not alter, just neglect to send for them until they were in the middle of creating the wine and hope their steward lost the missive,” Av said quietly.
“Telm’s idea, no doubt?”
“It was a good idea,” Jer said.
“Where are they being put up?” Av asked. “I suppose one of us should probably take to guarding them and I’m the only one without duties at this point. Between the guard and myself, I should be able to manage them.”
“Family area,” Jer responded. “If I recall correctly, Para was an expert at losing her guardian.”
“The family area? But—” Av started.
“I know,” Jer said.
“But what?” their father asked them.
Av rubbed at his face, irritated. “There’s no light or water in the family area. The servants are having to lug buckets to the queen’s rooms to clean them. It’s also about as far from Aren’s rooms as she could put her parents.”
“I’ll speak with the guard,” Jer said. “We need Aren mated to get rid of these people and no one at court but us, really, knows how detrimental they could be.”
“She’s still mine,” Av responded. “Stop talking about finding an intended when I'm sitting right here.”
“Then act like it,” their father snapped at Av. “Does the court know that? Have they seen you and Aren together? Courting? No? Then you’ve no claim over her!”
Av gritted his teeth. “Perhaps I should go fix that.”
“I would strongly suggest that,” Jer said.
The ranks at court were well aware that Av had claimed Aren. Some commoners picked up on the fact that Av had claimed, and was chasing, a young woman at court. They nattered about it, asking themselves who Av might be lusting after. Thanks to Aren's ability to hide her rank, most at court hadn't realized she existed, the mystery had continued and the court was abuzz with the possibilities.
Even though Aren had stayed in Av’s home, had gone with the brothers to see their father, no one had linked her to Av, not like that. It seemed the moment a person looked away from Aren, they forgot who she was.
Av left, slamming the door on his way out. Jer looked at his father and sighed. He was at a loss as to what they could do. Aren hardly spoke of her parents, but what she had said did not harbour good feelings. Unless Para and Cerlot did something grievous they couldn’t be dismissed from court, though. The tradition was there for a reason, and a good many parents would do everything they could to protect their daughter and look out for her best interests.
“What do we do?” Jer asked.
His father glanced to the door. He stood and locked it before returning to his seat. “What I’m about to say remains between us.”
“Fair enough,” Jer grumbled.
“I’m saying this as master to the aide of the throne, not as father to son.” Sitting forward, his father sighed, then continued. “If I said this to you as your father you might try to help it along. This court will likely run on honour. More difficult to understand, but also could do us some good.”
“How?” Jer asked. “Does honour say something about getting rid of pains in the neck?”
“A warrior who claims a queen before the court is seen as being her only, makes him capable of sitting as mate to the throne before a mating ceremony takes place, in between mating ceremonies as well,” Ervam said.
“I’ve claimed her,” Jer said, watching his father shake his head.
“It’s a little... Sort of... How do I...” his father paused to sigh. “You’ll know it when you see it. My father and my mother never actually mated, see, because they did this. But if either of them knows about it, the court might say that one or the other manipulated the court.”
“Well, we’ll be getting them to mate anyhow, so why do we need that?” Jer asked.
Another head shake. “Para slept with Av, she won’t agree to them mating and Cerlot will say whatever Para tells him to. Getting the permission of a parent from both sides isn't just lip service, it's law. They’ll seek an arranged mating, probably through the baron or high lord of the South. By honour, an agreement from a mother or father—goodness, even the warrior and queen—aren’t needed for a pair who joins the way your grandparents did.”
“If it’s done your way.”
“If it’s done my way,” Ervam said, watching Jer.
“I think you’re not telling me everything, because no mating is seen as legal unless there’s a man and woman to stand as warrior and queen to the mated pair,” Jer responded, holding up his hand to stop his father from saying anything else. “I don’t expect an explanation, I just want you to know I have my suspicions.”
“Actually, I was going to comment on how odd it is, that Mar hasn’t arrived at the palace yet. It’s a two-and-a-half day ride for a messenger. Perlon can ride quite well. They should be here.”
“Odd, I know,” Jer said. “It seems everyone and their relatives have come to court, but not Mar. Though, I feel relieved. What if she comes? What do I do? She hates me.”
“Did she tell you that herself?”
“No.”
“Then you need to sit back and relax some.” His father stood. “You were steward?”
“Yes, Aren did it a little quickly,” Jer said. “I assumed she did so because I was the only one she trusted besides Av and, well— he’d make a poor steward. Throw things at the crying ladies and bash the heads of those who owe debts to one another.”
“You’d make a good steward,” was the quiet response.
Turning to his father Jer said, “On that note, Aren wants Telm to receive a raise in income when she’s reinstated, but I wanted to see how much Telm was making before we did that. Don’t want to offer her a raise that’s insulting. Do you have any idea how much Telm made under Mother?”
“No, her income would have changed since then, as she was running two areas,” his father said. “That’s also a question for the
treasury. As aide to the throne, you should probably go tell the treasury that only yourself or Aren can send commands for spending, before her parents pay a visit.”
“The treasury and archivist are scary,” Jer grumbled to himself as his father left.
Alone in the study, Jer sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He took a moment to sit in solitude, enjoying the silence, but feeling utterly alone. Standing finally, Jer left the sitting room and ran right into Perlon.
“Jer,” Perlon said, steadying Jer as he grinned. “There you are.”
“You’re covered in dirt,” Jer said, looking Perlon over. “Head to toe. How did you manage that?”
“Rode here and haven’t washed yet,” Perlon responded, waving a hand dismissively. “Before you ask, Mar is with Lady Aren. That’s quite the something, isn’t it? I knew she had rank, but taking the throne? That’s impressive. Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you were kind of wound up with the whole Em thing.”
“When was the last time you slept?” Jer asked, aware that Perlon only spoke in such a manner when tired.
“Sometime yesterday morning,” Perlon said and shrugged. “But our rooms don’t have light or water. Servant said she’d get us transferred out and beside Lady Aren’s rooms as favour to Mar. Fantastic, that is. Also muttered something about greedy. Something I’d rather not repeat. I still have to kiss my mother with this mouth.”
“I think you need a nap, at the very least,” Jer said, motioning for Perlon to follow him. “We can talk while we walk, how about that?”
“That could work, would work, quite well,” Perlon said, following along beside Jer. “Are there any problems at court I should be aware of? I get the feeling Mar is going to want to stay for winter, but why would I want some time to get to know my mate one on one, you know?” Perlon gave Jer a playful jab with his elbow. “You know, don’t you? Oh, I shouldn’t ask you if you know about your own daughter.”
Jer pulled to a stop, grabbing Perlon’s arm. “What did you say?”
“Mar’s your daughter. You didn’t know?” Perlon asked, going a funny colour.