Sit Pretty

by R. J. Price

  “I tell you her clothing was shredded, and all you want to talk about is making a new dress?”

  “You wouldn't be back if you hadn't found something else,” Perlon said calmly. “The tailor had a dress, perhaps, ready to be delivered just as all the rest was torn apart? Or the one her mother supplied was actually acceptable?”

  “Aren had a dress hidden away. Her handmaid found it while cataloguing her items to move them to the queen's rooms,” Mar said quietly. “It's gorgeous, actually.”

  “The family area doesn't have light or water yet,” Perlon said.

  Mar could only shrug in response. “Perhaps Telm thinks moving Aren to the queen's rooms will supply the area with light and water. How should I know?”

  “Fair enough. What will you be wearing to the ball? I need to know so I can choose something that matches.”

  “The dress my father gave me,” Mar said quickly. “If you'll excuse me, I need to wash, hopefully my hair dries in time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Av stepped into the ball, grumbling all the while at his own irritability. He shoved the first foreigner he found, who happened to be Url. His cousin gave Av a good-natured shove in response, a reminder that Av wasn't the only one in the family with rank. The returned shove pushed Av into Aren's father, who started to growl, only to stop when he realized who he was actually growling at.

  Moving through the crowd, Av stepped up to the dance floor, glowering at the happy couples who suddenly decided dancing wasn't the most interesting thing to do at a ball. The music died down as he turned his glower to those on the stage.

  “Lady Para Argnern!” the serving boy by the door shouted above the din of the lords and ladies.

  Why hadn't Para entered with her husband?

  Av turned towards the door and glowered at the lords and ladies who suddenly parted from the angry rank. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to be attending the stupid ball. Lady Para, the remaining commoner between Av and the entrance doors, stood rooted in place as she stared back at him. Unable to hide her fear, Para rushed into the crowd and out of Av's line of sight.

  The doors opened once more, creaking as the servant boy stepped forward. A commoner also, the boy met Av's eyes, but there was no fear there. Still a boy, the servant had likely been born and grown at the palace, around ranks and around Av. He didn't find Av's glare to be frightening because he knew that, unless Av was angry at him, the warrior was harmless.

  “Lady Aren!” the boy called out, leaving off the bloodline. Not because Aren had dismissed her blood, but because the boy had locked eyes with Av and refused to look away.

  Not challenging Av, but redirecting his attention to someone who had a chance at calming him down. He forced himself to look past the boy. Aren strode into the ball dressed in white. The fabric was pure white, like freshly fallen snow. It looked so silky that it almost had a sheen to it. Every bit of the fabric was white, tugging at Av's memories as he stared.

  Despite its colour, this was not the pearl fabric Av had seen brought into the palace a few days before.

  Aren moved towards Av, stopping just short of him. “Are you all right? You seem to not be breathing.”

  Stubbornly, Av drew in a breath. The dress fit quite well, though the sleeves were misfit. She must have had the dress for some time and her training with Av had changed her body. Walking around the lady, Av eyed the lacing in the back and saw how tightly it was pulled. Aren had lost weight, but put on muscle. The dress swayed as she turned towards him, lips quirking up just slightly.

  “How do you get your dress laced up so tightly by yourself?” Av whispered to Aren.

  “Practise makes perfect,” Aren responded just as quietly.

  Both smiled. Perhaps at the same memory, perhaps for the same reason. Although the conversation had happened long ago, Av still recalled it.

  The scent of cedar lifted off the fabric of the dress. Av opened his mouth slightly and breathed in as he stepped up to her, wrapped a hand around the small of her back, but not touching her. Drawing her forward, he pulled Aren to the dance floor.

  Music began and he clasped her hand, set the other on her waist as he led the dance.

  He knew no one else was on the dance floor, and he was awkwardly aware of the court watching the two of them dance. Not one of them dared to step forward. At the periphery of his awareness, he knew Para was angry and one of the barons was outraged.

  There was no reason for them to be angry, it was only a dance.

  When the music ended, he stopped and released Aren reluctantly. She was no longer available, she was engaged to another for the sake of political stability.

  Everyone was staring at them.

  Av's face heated as he glanced around them. Not staring at them, but at the space between them, it seemed. He looked down. He thought he had let Aren's hand go, but their hands were intertwined. Meeting Aren's eyes, Av opened his mouth to tell her to let go, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  Aren released Av's left hand, reaching up to lay her right against his cheek. His heart was thundering in his chest. Av moved his free hand to sit on her waist. He knew he had to break it off, to say no, and stop her before she did something stupid or foolish.

  “You are mine,” Aren said, shaking her head slowly. “No one else's.”

  “And you are mine,” Av managed to get out of his tight throat. “But you're…” He couldn't get the words out.

  Bending down, he captured her lips, pulled her close as he kissed her.

  Telm would slice him to bits. His father would kill him. His uncle and cousin would do who knew what. The southern baron would be upset and palace lands would go to war with the south. Possibly with the east, west, and north as well. Those at court would, no doubt, demand retribution, and might even make Aren's life very difficult or try to remove her from the throne.

  But she was worth it.

  Av deepened the kiss. Damn the court and everyone else. Aren pulled away slowly, reluctant to separate from him.

  “Where can we go, that they won't find us?” she whispered, her voice so low he could barely hear her. Meaning no one gathered around the dance floor would be able to tell what they were talking about.

  “Where can we go, that I might have enough time to rip that dress off you?” he asked in response.

  “You'll do no such thing,” she said with a smile, her face changing suddenly. “I know a place no one would ever look for us.”

  “How long do you think we'd have, before they snap out of it?” Av murmured, pulling her towards the exit.

  She didn't answer, simply led on. No one tried to stop them as they left the ball room. Av didn't recognize the hallways they took, only knew they were going deeper into the palace. When he stepped into the queen's rooms, he knew where he was by feel alone.

  Aren had taken an odd route to arrive at the rooms, one he hadn't been aware existed. One that others would not think led here, giving them more time.

  Cool air drifted in, the hearth was lit, and everything felt right. The furniture, the bed, even the decor that had been added to the walls felt like it belonged.

  Av closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Not long before they realize,” she said, turning her back to him. “Untie me.”

  He reached out and tugged the lacing loose. Pushing the dress down, he watched it puddle around her feet. He swallowed at the sight of it. Slowly, he forced himself to look up at the body he had been denied so long. Aren became self-conscious, one hand gripping the other arm.

  “Don't,” he said quietly, moving her hands away from her stomach, to her sides. “I'm not hesitating because I don't like what I see. I'm hesitating because I don't know what I want to do to you first. Do you know how I've entertained myself these past days?”

  “I never thought about it,” Aren said. “I try not to obsess over sex.”

  “That's because I haven't impressed upon you how delightful it can be,” Av said.

&n
bsp; Then he hesitated, thinking about the last time they had slept together. He asked himself whether he had done anything truly worth talking about afterwards. Did Aren talk about their time in bed? Did he dare ask the women who were close enough to have heard about that time?

  He brought his fingernails over her skin and watched her shudder. Her skin flushed, heat rising as his hands settled on her hips. Smiling, Av stepped around Aren and walked slowly to the bed. His fingers tugged at the buttons on his vest, suddenly unable to work simple buttons. Finally getting the vest off, he tossed it to the side.

  Aren slid into the bed on the other side, suddenly shy.

  They only had a few hours before Telm figured out where they were and came looking for them. That didn't matter for the moment, however.

  Av stripped off the rest of his clothing and climbed under the blankets, shifting close enough that Aren could touch him, but making no attempt to touch her. He watched the young woman watch him.

  “If we elope,” Aren sighed, “Telm slices you to bits.”

  “I'd miss my fun bits,” Av muttered. “Are we sure she means those bits?”

  “Do you find them to be fun?” Aren asked. “If you find any part of you to be fun, she would likely cut it off, just to be sure.”

  Av considered. “Let's not risk that, but if we don't elope, you have to mate the lord.”

  “He's a good man, he'd understand,” Aren said.

  “His father has bound him to mate you. If he doesn't mate you then his father's going to take him back south. In order to keep him at court, which I'm guessing you want, you would need to go through with it. Though, if Jer claims Laeder, Laeder could stay under the base assumption that Jer is unstable enough to stab a body that takes his bedfellow from him.”

  “Bedfellow?” Aren asked, moving away from Av. “What do you mean, bedfellow?”

  “That wasn't a one-time thing, Jer doesn't do one tumble with men,” Av said slowly.

  “Why does he get to sleep with someone else and I have to spend my nights in a cold bed?” Aren demanded.

  Av watched Aren for a moment before he realized that she was expecting an actual answer. “No idea, I suppose that's a question for Telm, not the man who's been trying to get into your bed.”

  “And who, once you're in it, I feel like we shouldn't be in bed?” Aren asked.

  “There's also a bathtub in the bathing room,” Av said.

  “I just took a bath,” Aren muttered in response.

  “I meant for…” Av hesitated, “…something else.”

  “You need to be in bed to do that,” Aren snarled in response.

  Again, he watched her. When he realized she was being serious, he climbed out of bed and motioned to her. Walking to the bathing room, he spoke over his shoulder.

  “Your knowledge about sex astounds me. What is going on? Your mother didn't—” Only then did Av recall who Aren's mother was.

  Stopping by the oversized bathtub, he turned to the door, where Aren leaned against the doorframe. His eyes roved over the shape of her, then back up to the brown eyes.

  “Sex is not a thing to be banded about,” Aren said.

  “On the contrary, palace life requires an openness about sexual exploitation,” Av said, turning on the water. “To ensure just that, that women aren't exploited by men for sexual conquest. My father said it's also useful because rather than focusing on one or the other gender enjoying it more, there's actually a focus on both enjoying it. The north focuses on the woman, all the others around focus on the man. The palace says that's wrong. Both partners should be equally involved.”

  “And so you're going to teach me?” Aren asked.

  “Uh, no,” Av said. “I'll do my best to show you pleasure, I'll even help you look for an older female to talk to about this, but you need a woman to talk to.”

  “That's what your father said,” Aren muttered.

  “Normally one or the other, man or woman, has a full set of parents that can be trusted in some combination,” Av muttered. “Or, if you were anyone else, I'd suggest Telm. But with her threatening to cut my fun bits off I can't exactly suggest you go to her, for my own safety. You understand?”

  “I do,” she said quietly.

  “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Let me show you something new.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The moment Para walked into the ball, she spotted Av. It was impossible to miss the man, standing at the end of the aisle the lords and ladies had made for their betters, glaring at her openly. As Para pushed through the crowd to get away from those eyes, she heard the court murmuring about the show of dominance.

  They whispered things about Av being upset and dared to ask why the one who sat the throne had allowed it to reach this point. Why did Aren simply not make her wishes known?

  Anytime one of the lords or ladies spotted Para the talk died down, they turned inward, towards one another, as if to ignore her.

  Para found herself across the dance floor as Aren entered. Av still stood where he had been, rooted in place. As if she had left only a moment before. Merkat stepped up beside Para, watched Av and the door, as she did.

  “What's this the court is muttering about?” the southern baron demanded.

  “I haven't the faintest clue,” Para said. She shook her head as the doors to the ballroom opened and Aren was announced.

  By first name only, completely ignoring the bloodline that sired her. The serving boy making the announcements had been clearly told that Aren was to be announced by first and last name, along with her titles and the fact that she was to be mated to Laeder. This would be the only announcement because Para knew Aren did not want everyone brought to a standstill as they ate.

  That would be the announcement and the boy had botched it. How many times did Para have to deliver commands to the servants before they obeyed her?

  “What they are implying is an absolute scandal” Merkat said. “My son is to mate your daughter—that was the deal. Without my coin flowing into your estate, need I remind you of what the throne will do to you?”

  “I am well aware of that,” Para hissed back. “I've already received one threat about it.”

  “What are they doing?” Merkat asked, frowning at the entrance.

  Para turned her attention as Av drew Aren to the dance floor. It wasn't just that, no, it was the fact that the few who had dared venture onto the dance floor quickly fled. The musicians paused, then took up a different tune, one Para had heard before, but could not quite place a name to. It almost sounded like…

  “That's a first dance song,” Merkat hissed at Para.

  “Damned be, why does no one listen to me?” Para hissed back at him. “This court is broken, Lord Merkat. Through no fault of my own. I report a problem to the steward, he does nothing but chide me. I report a problem to Aren and she reassigns the servant I've dismissed six times already and then chides me about attempting to remove useful ladies.”

  “She is your daughter,” Merkat said as the couple turned on the dance floor. “Take control of her.”

  “She is a queen, Merkat.” Para turned from the floor, to the southern baron. “I realize the south hasn't seen a proper rank in several generations, and that you're still going through the withdrawal phase of separating from palace lands, but that doesn't change the fact that ranks are a step above commoners. They are called things from birth for a reason. You try telling one of the ranks to obey and see how far it gets you.”

  “They are women like any other, and they can be controlled.”

  “Not on palace lands,” Para said quickly, quietly. She stepped close to prevent others from hearing what she was about to say. “On palace lands the traditions and honour they follow keeps them from allowing anyone, even her soon to be father-by-mating from controlling her or trying to use her for his own ambitions. If you attempt such a thing there are two warriors at court who will, without question, cut you down. And then there is Ervam.”

  “W
hat about him? He trains people, that's his rank.”

  “By the spirits man, he's a trainer. Those of his rank are more dangerous than the likes of Av and Jer. He has to be, if he's going to teach them.”

  Para caught a flash of white out the side of her eye as the couple passed by her.

  Stiffening, she straightened and turned to the dance floor as Aren floated by. The dress Aren was wearing was not the one Para ordered made. Instead she was wearing a white dress that clearly had been made for her, out of a fabric that was far more expensive than the one Para bought. In fact, it even looked a little like Para's mating dress.

  Gasping, Para realized that it was the remains of her dress. “That little whore.”

  Aren went chasing after Av and ripped apart her mating dress for this nonsense? Para's fury rose. She moved to step onto the dance floor only to find her way blocked by Mar.

  The queen unleashed her anger, causing Para to step back as the music ended. In a new dress herself, Mar stepped forward as Para retreated. A rank attacking a commoner was not an everyday event, but that didn't mean anyone would step in to help her.

  “If you so much as step onto that dance floor, I will shred you like you had your men shred Aren's clothing,” Mar said to Para, who came to a sudden halt as she backed against a lord who wouldn't budge. “If you think anyone will stop me, because you are mother to the one who sits the throne, you should familiarize yourself with the mate to the throne. If he catches word of what you've done...”

  Mar simply shook her head, rather than continue. Frightened, Para remained in place as Mar melted into the crowd, headed back to the dance floor. A tremble ran through Para as she pushed off the lord and turned to confront him.

  Er, the northern baron bared his teeth at Para. “If the little one needs help shredding you, I'd be happy to lend a hand. Or a knife.”

  Para spun from him and marched back to Merkat, pushing her fear as far down as she could. She would not allow herself to be bullied by those at court, not by a rank, even if that rank held a title higher than her own.