by R. J. Price
“Please do, that would aid me greatly,” Av said.
Most ladies would retreat to their rooms or whine publicly. Some few would demand seats if court was called while they were feeling 'unwell,' but would have no problem attending a ball later that night. Av had yet to put anything to Aren, what her cycle was, how she dealt with it. He only recalled Telm once saying that the servants were happy to provide more wood for days when Aren would rather sit in with a good book.
Which meant nothing when it came to Aren's cycle. There were days where all Av wanted to do was sit with his leather tools and a warm fire.
“Lord Merkat?” Aren asked, eyes focused on Av, searching for any sign of embarrassment or anger. She turned her full attention to the baron of the south. “What can I do for you?”
The man had come to a stop and waited politely for one of them to notice him. Lord Merkat looked between Aren and Av, frowning. Finally he focused on Aren.
“I've heard you spent some time with my son. Very good of you to do that. Most who have arrangements refuse to meet their mate or even try to get to know them. How did you find my son?”
“I quite like him, he would do well here at court,” Aren said to Lord Merkat.
Av gritted his teeth.
“Good, my dear, I believe I will be calling you daughter soon enough,” the baron said and smiled at Aren. “The engagement ball is being planned a little hastily, but your mother wants the barons in attendance and I have to admit, that is a very good idea. Having them here has furthered the possibility of a treaty tenfold, I tell you.”
“I don't believe that,” Aren said in response. “However if the court demands it, I cannot say no, I must prostitute myself for their pleasures.”
“I—” Lord Merkat proceeded to stutter, unaware Aren had been taken by a mood and was struggling to control herself.
She was angry about the arrangement that much Av already knew. Aren had made quite a mess of the table they had sat at, while trying to have a rational discussion with her. There was no logic to Aren, at least not for the moment. If what she said were true, if what that Laeder man suggested had any backing, then in a few months these outbursts would settle down.
Or Aren was going mad because the throne was dragging away her magic.
Or because of the queen's stone.
Aren motioned between Av and Lord Merkat. “Tell me, have you two been properly introduced?”
“I don't believe introductions are necessary,” Lord Merkat said quietly. “I recognize his bloodline well enough.”
“This is my Lord Av Marilton,” Aren said, setting a hand on Av’s arm gently. “Son of Ervam, not of Er. He was raised mainly on palace grounds and is ranked warrior. He believes I should go through with the arrangement because it is—what did you call it?—'a gift on a silver platter'?”
Av gritted his teeth again to stop from saying something.
“That it is,” Lord Merkat said. “Which is how I knew the court would agree to it. The two of you, though, Aren, would make a wonderful pair. He is not my only un-mated son but I thought, after meeting you all those months ago, he would be a perfect match for you.”
Av's teeth gritted harder, drawing Aren's attention as they ground against one another and made an audible sound.
“He is quite intelligent, I like that,” Aren said.
“Very intelligent, gets it from his mother. Good looks as well, wouldn't you agree?” Lord Merkat asked.
“Very good looks,” Aren nodded.
“Mine!” Av shouted without cause. Gritting his teeth again, he turned to Lord Merkat. “In case you missed that part, she is mine, not his, not yours, not the court's. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Av drew Aren close to him. “Mine, no one else's. Just mine.”
He glared at Telm as she stepped up to the three of them. The older woman looked over all involved and frowned ever so slightly at Av.
“Yes, Lord Av, she is yours.” Telm made a beckoning motion. “Now hand her over to me. The tailor wants to see her. Then she has an appointment with Mar for the rest of the day.”
“Mine,” Av said sternly, before handing Aren over to Telm.
“Yours,” Telm responded, leading a dazed Aren away.
Av turned to demand that Lord Merkat recognize his claim only to find the man had fled. Grumbling, Av turned on the man who was approaching from behind and meant to sneak up on him.
His uncle pulled to a stop just out of arm's reach. Smiling, the baron of the north looked over Av.
“Mine,” Av growled. He scrubbed at his face, tried to get himself under control. “I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Er said gently. “For me it was my sweet Olea,” the name was sighed out. “We were at a ball. This lord kept touching her and I went up to put a stop to it. No lewd touching, not creepy at all, he even had her permission, but I didn't like it.”
“What did you do?” Av asked.
“I meant only to stand there and put a stop to it. In the north our rank means quite a bit more than it does here, then she said my name. Have you ever had a woman say your name like that? When they just sigh it out and you know, and your competition knows, she's claiming you then and there? But because she didn't use the proper words the lord took it as nothing more than saying my name. Commoners!”
“Commoners indeed,” Av said.
Sometimes commoners didn't realize that it wasn't what words were said, but the tone that they were spoken in. It was the body language, it was the woman shuddering out a breath as Av swooped in.
“I need to clear my head,” Av said, giving himself a shake.
“What's gotten to you?” Er asked.
“This arrangement,” Av responded. “I fully, and well, understand the political, financial, and all those reasons for the pair to be mated. It is a good match. Just not personally. And I don't know what Aren's doing. First she's saying no, then she's saying she'll speak to him, now she, 'quite likes,' the man. I can't even tell if that's from the moods she's been taken by recently.”
“A woman changes her mind when she thinks she can get her way. Aren probably said yes for the same reason my sister said yes. Except my sister's plan was always to send the man's head back to his father.” Er paused and looked Av up and down. “Suppose it's a good thing Aren doesn't know what is within her abilities to do.”
Av stared back at Er. “Which sister is this?”
“Youngest sister, few years younger than your father,” Er said, jabbing a finger over his shoulder. “Anyhow, Aren probably said yes suddenly, and without warning, because she planned to meet him, say he's a bad match and then stomp her feet. The man obviously convinced her that he is useful.”
“Told her that her moods would settle down in a few months as the throne adjusts to her,” Av said.
“Clever man.” Er nodded in appreciation “Though Aren said 'quite like,' not did 'like,' not 'enjoy,' not 'love,' not 'infatuated by'. If you heard a woman saying she quite liked any other man, what would you assume from said wording?”
“He was in for a let-down,” Av muttered.
“Something about Laeder makes him an inappropriate mate for Aren,” Er said.
“I should probably find out why before they mate, so I know what I'm getting myself into,” Av grumbled to himself.
Er sighed. “If you try to approach that man, he will wet himself from fear. You need someone else to do it for you, someone who is benign, not scary in the least.”
“Jer's not scary to anyone,” Av said. “He'll be looking for a reason to hide from Mar. I could tell him to give Laeder a sociable time.”
“Now you're thinking. Do you do that often?”
“Do what?” Av grumbled in response.
“Think—do you think often, boy?”
“I am not dull,” Av snapped. “I'm just blinded by that lady and her gorgeous figure.”
“That happens,” Er said with a nod.
“If this happened up north, what wou
ld you do?” Av asked. “If this was you?”
“It was me,” Er responded. “That ball I told you about, it was Olea's engagement ball. I threw her intended out Castle Grey's window, the one where the ballroom is, do you recall that? About four hundred feet down a cliff face to the water below? I threw her over my shoulder and carried her off. Too bad here at the palace everyone is restricted with fluffy traditions. Tradition be damned. Honour, that's what a man should follow. Tradition isn't going to protect you from the spirits, spirits don't care that you followed tradition. They ask why, and ask how you can live with the decisions you made because you followed tradition.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Para stepped into the queen's rooms and breathed in through her nose. She knew ranks could detect things commoners could not. Warriors could smell better, queens could sense lingering emotion, healers could feel every speck of dirt, and trainers detected disorder.
The problem Para had was that she hadn't the faintest idea what sort of rank her daughter was. Aren had rank and could sit the throne, but each was a little different. If Aren called to warriors, she would be able to smell things others of her rank might ignore.
It was Para's job to strip the rooms of anything that might set Aren off. These rooms would be Aren's and only Aren's unless she invited her mate to live with her. In order to ensure Aren saw the worth of her parents being at court, Para had to make certain the rooms were absolutely perfect.
Drawing in another breath this time through her mouth, Para looked around the room. Turning to the clustered group of servants, Para's eyes roved over them.
“Do any of you have rank?” she asked.
“No, lady,” was the murmured response.
Their eyes were on the floor, refusing to look up to Para. A few of the girls on staff had the courage to meet Para's eyes, she had dismissed them all.
Para breathed in deeply, let the breath out as she considered the room.
“We've washed everything,” said the girl on the end.
Focusing on the girl, Para noticed the eyes, the nose. She had dismissed the girl four times already, yet there she was, defiant even as Para met her eyes.
“Clean it again,” Para said to the other girls. “Clean my scent from the room. Anything I've touched, I want scrubbed four times before it is considered clean. Then the basic furniture can come in. Every piece of furniture you bring in must be cleaned the way you cleaned this room.”
“Lady Aren is not this picky,” the servant on the end said.
“How would you know, what Lady Aren is?” Para snapped. “I am her mother, I raised her for seventeen years. You have known her a few days.”
“Lady Para, which set of furniture should we use?” asked a servant on the other end of the group. “What colours? What type of mattress, soft or hard?”
Para thought. There were too many questions, none of which she knew the answers to. Aren accepted whatever she had been given, without complaint. She didn't even complain when she was given a guest room, and her brother given her room, the room reserved for the inheritor. Para could think of nothing Aren had kept in her room, no personal items.
“That is for you to find out from Aren,” Para said. “This is a room made for one of her status and she has only ever accepted what was given to her. I want you to find out what she wants. If I ask her, she will not tell me. Make this set of rooms my daughter's home.”
“Yes, Lady Para,” the servants said as one, curtseying to her.
Para jabbed a finger to the annoying servant. “Not you.”
She took the servant by the arm and pulled her from the room, furious. Knowing Cerlot would be useless in this instance, Para dragged the servant to the man Para trusted most, next to her mate. Thrusting the girl at Jer, Para folded her arms and glared at the aide to the throne. The man blinked at Para, then focused on the girl.
“What did you do, Wena?” Jer asked calmly, without any attempt to be stern. It was more of an exasperated tone, than anything else.
“How many times must I dismiss a servant, before they are truly dismissed?” Para demanded. “I do not want to see this girl again and if I see her, I will not be held accountable for what I do!”
Jer pointed to the servant. “Give us the room, but wait outside. I will find placement for you.” Jer waited until the servant left and closed the door before he sighed. “Para, you cannot dismiss every girl who looks at you the wrong way. You cannot dismiss the girls who question you. Av has been very clear on this and Aren supports him. The serving staff are to be more than staff.”
“I will not have her on my staff. Why has she not left? Have I no control?”
“Telm will have control in her house,” Jer muttered, almost too low for Para to hear. The man sighed and raised his voice. “She hasn't left because Telm commanded the staff to stay. Just because she is no longer head of house, does not mean the staff would disobey her. She has trained every single one of them. She saved most of them. They are her flock, Para. And in case no one has told you as much, don't poke Telm!”
“She is a weak queen at best,” Para said.
“And my father, as trainer, has no magic of his own, no ability of his own besides his ability to fight, but he can train, and he can lead. Do you know why you don't attack a trainer, Para?”
“No, why? Enlighten me.”
“For the same reason you don't attack the one who sits the throne,” Jer growled, standing. He set his hands on his desk. “The one may be weak, the head may appear to be weak, but if you try her, it is not her that you will have to face. The staff suffers you to be here, Para.”
“I am doing what is best for my daughter!” Para shouted back at Jer. “I don't understand why none of you can take the time to see that! I have done nothing that was not in the best interest of my daughter.”
“You've done what is in the best interest of you!” Jer bellowed, raising his voice over Para’s protest. “You've looked out for palace politics and the throne, not for your daughter, never for your daughter.”
Stunned, Para could find no words to throw back at Jer. The warrior huffed and took his seat.
“As far as the throne is concerned?” He shook his head. “If this were any other queen, Para, any other, from the past two hundred years. If this was Mar, my own daughter, sitting the throne and this was your solution to her future? I would say that you are doing a fine job.
“I've heard what you've done to the queen's rooms, I've watched you pull from the storage rooms, trying to select the right furniture for Aren. I can even appreciate the match you've made because that is a fine-looking man.” Jer paused to sigh. “It would seem the pair are able to get along, but this is not for Aren, she wants nothing more than Av, which you are denying her by enforcing this arrangement.”
“Av only wants her because he slept with me,” Para said sternly.
Jer pointed at Para. “That right there, is why, once Aren is mated, you will be asked to leave the palace. Do you know the trouble I went through, calming her down after your last visit? After your outburst?”
Fury heated Para's face. “It is in her best interest.”
“No, it's not,” Jer said sternly. “Though, Lady Para, if Aren begins to fade, I'll send for you right away and when I do, it will be with a command for you and your mate to come to court and to act like this. Because this? The rages you put her into, just being in the same room as her? Could stabilize her enough for her to rule for decades.”
“This is not the time for jokes, Lord Jer,” Para said.
“I'm not joking, Lady Para.”
Sighing out slowly, Para said, “I have no control over the staff that I am supposed to have control over. If I have no control, then I am not head of house.”
“Telm had no ability to dismiss staff either, she had to go through Em,” Jer said. “She had little actual control, but she still ran everything in the palace. The head of house is in charge of the house, the house master is in charge of the staff and Aren
has yet to assign a house master.”
Para stilled. “You mean, I am doing more work than I am supposed to?”
“Do you know what the stable master is up to? Do you know what the archivist has to say about you, or about your daughter? How have the kitchens been running, how are the cellars, are we ready to throw an engagement ball while the barons are here?”
“Then the house is to flounder while Aren decides?” Para asked.
“Aren has decided,” Jer said with a shake of his head and a frown. “She assigned her house master, her head of house, and her steward.”
Av walked in without announcing himself. He slammed the door behind him, causing Para to jump in place. She moved out of the man's way.
“The girl out there looked like she was going to gut me with my own belt,” Av said to Jer, taking a seat. “I also spoke with Uncle. It was quite disturbing, that conversation, though it brought me here with a topic to discuss with you.”
“I have a visitor, Av,” Jer motioned to Para.
Av looked at Para, then turned back to Jer. “She's nothing. I'd like you to take Lord Laeder out and show him a nice, sociable time. He's new at court, Aren enjoyed his company, but he doesn't know anyone else. I don't really trust anyone else to take him out.”
“You aren't master,” Jer said.
“I'm not asking you as master, I'm telling you as the person who can put you into the ground,” Av growled.
“What is it about Uncle that puts a tone to your voice?” Jer asked.
“He reminds me what we could be.”
“You argued against that.”
“Under Em, yes, but not under Aren. Telm stabbed a man to make Aren face the fact that Telm has the right to stab stupid people. Why can't we do the same?”
“And you've chosen to do that by ordering me to take Laeder out?” Jer asked. “That's your brilliant way of making Aren recognize your right to do as you please?”
“No, that comes later, this is my way of making you recognize my right to do as I please,” Av said, standing. He rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Do as I command you. Report back to me.”