Beneath the Veil

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Beneath the Veil Page 4

by Megan Hart


  Someone had lifted me while I slept. Someone had brought me here. With frantic fingers I patted myself to be sure my breast bindings were still in place and the cloths inside myself undisturbed. I still wore the clothes I'd put on after my bath. I wiped at my face and stepped down from the bed. I swayed for a moment, disoriented. I stepped to the curtain.

  "....going to do about it?" Lir's voice, unmistakable.

  "Do?" Daelyn gave a light chuckle. "What I always do. Tell the idiots there's nothing to worry about and offer another reward to anyone who can bring me the hand of who's been hanging the letters."

  "Do you think that's wise? Offering a reward, I mean. The promise of coin can urge even a lazy man to action."

  Daelyn's voice grew hard. "Think you to question my judgment on this, Lir?"

  A low laugh sent a chill down my spine. "Of course not."

  "Good," the Prince snapped. "Because you, of all my men, are the one I trust most."

  "I know this."

  "If you were to begin doubting me..." Daelyn's voice grew soft and mournful. "I don't know what I'd do."

  "You won't have to do anything, because I don't doubt you. I know your cause. I've helped you in it since you began, have I not?"

  The Prince's voice became low and seductive. "And you've been well rewarded for your risk, pet."

  Were they kissing? Beginning to make love? I heard the soft shuffling of clothes, the moist noises of mouths meeting. Should I pull the curtain back, or leave it hang?

  "Go see if that new fetchencarry is yet awake," I heard Daelyn say, and I stepped back from the curtain.

  I didn't wish to let the prince know I'd been listening to his private conversation. Hastily, I turned to the bed and bent over it, pretending I had only just risen. When Lir pulled aside the curtain, I didn't have to pretend to be startled.

  "You've slept the night away. You have duties to attend."

  I nodded and smoothed my wrinkled clothes. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't apologize to me for your lack of attention." Lir looked surprised. "I'm not your master."

  I was used to apologizing for that. My uncle Akadar had often punished me for the same crime. I nodded and moved to push past him, but Lir had left no room for me to get by.

  For a moment, I was close enough to take in the scent of him. Many men wore perfume, some to cover up the fact they rarely bathed. Lir smelled of nothing but soap and water and the fresh outdoors. I breathed deeply on instinct.

  I looked up and our eyes met. A grin quirked his lips. He reached to tug the braid hanging over my shoulder, and the silk ribbon of his sleeve brushed at my cheek.

  "You'd better hurry, lad," he said, and broke the spell he'd cast upon me.

  He stepped aside to let me pass, and I did, hurrying to the chair in which Prince Daelyn reclined. I stood in front of him, reverent but not obeisant. Obeisance was for follies only. "I apologize, my lord. I fell asleep...."

  "I know that." Daelyn plucked another joba melon from the bowl on his lap and sucked it dry of juice. He cocked his head to peer at me. "If I'd known you were going to cause me this much trouble, I think I might have left you selling melons."

  "I plead your mercy --"

  "Shut up." Daelyn's tone was mild, but the words sharp. "I'll give you another chance, boy, because I'm in sore need of a fetchencarry, a good one, to help me around here, and you still look a likely candidate."

  "Thank you."

  He rolled his eyes and pressed a square of lace-edged linen to his mouth. "Mother's Milk! I'm not going to have you beheaded for falling asleep! You act as though you're afraid of me!"

  "No, sir." I shook my head. "But you are the Prince Regent. Sir."

  Daelyn took the handkerchief away. "And you think you'd be wise to cater to my whims, is that it?"

  I didn't know how to answer. "I think it would be wise to do what you ask of me, my lord."

  "Good answer," Lir said from his chair opposite Daelyn.

  Daelyn nodded. "Aeris, do you have any idea what I might ask of you?"

  I shook my head. The prince smiled. He gave Lir a look I couldn't interpret. Then he bid me to step closer.

  "I need a lad who can accompany me anyplace I go. Not only someone to fetch and carry, for Sinder knows I have enough people to do that for me."

  I had a flash of insight, remembering what I'd thought the night before. "And you have many to entertain you."

  He raised a brow. "You're quick. I like that."

  "You want me to be your companion."

  "I have many of those, as well. And I think we can be certain you're not capable of advising me on my wardrobe." Daelyn smirked at my wrinkled clothes, then steepled his fingers beneath his chin and gave me a long, steady stare. "So what, my lad, could I possibly want you for?"

  I had to admit defeat. "I don't know."

  "And that," the Prince said as he leaned in close enough to me that I could smell the wine on his breath, "is what makes you so perfect."

  Chapter Six

  My education began at once. I spent the rest of that day following Daelyn and his entourage on his jaunts around the palace. We had luncheon with some friends, viewed a demonstration by Lir's class of small lads learning the Art, and walked the streets in what Daelyn fondly called "an outing."

  They all ignored me unless to snap their fingers for me to fetch, or to carry. I earned my name that day. By the end of it, my still-aching body only wanted to sleep. Dinner rested like a stone in my stomach. Moving had become an effort.

  I'd stolen a moment to sit while Daelyn bid his goodbyes to the bevy of lordlings who'd followed him all day. When he turned back to me, he raised a brow at my comfortable position but only brushed past me when I moved to stand. He pulled a sheaf of papers and a few books from one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in his library and tossed them at me.

  "I'm going out," he said without preamble. "You can read, can't you?"

  I could, and I told him so. "But my lord, where –"

  "Out. With my companions. Probably to do some drinking and some fucking, if all goes well." He lifted an eyebrow at my blush. "Unless you don't approve?"

  "It’s not my place to say."

  "Indeed, it is not." Daelyn smoothed his hair. "I'll need some assistance in my preparations."

  I headed toward the door. "I'll fetch a folly."

  "You'll do no such thing."

  I stopped, my body twisting, and grimaced. "My lord?"

  Daelyn gave a long-suffering sigh. I'd spent the entire day feeling weaker, duller and uglier than him and his friends. Now I felt infinitely stupider, as well.

  "Aeris," he said calmly. "I despise being waited on by women."

  The word didn't sound quite as forbidden when spoken with such a cultured tongue. "I plead your mercy."

  He held up a hand to silence me. "Being my fetchencarry is more than following me around and bringing me cups of wine. It’s even more than making certain doors open before I step up to them and close after I go through. You are to help me dress, do my hair, my cosmetics, repair my garments should they become torn and make certain they're washed when they become soiled. You're to aid me in any matter that requires attendance upon my person. Do you understand?"

  "Thank you for your patience with me. I...I understand." I didn't, not really. He had follies aplenty to serve in the palace. I'd seen them. He was asking me to do women's work, and yet the request was made to sound like a privilege, not an insult.

  "There are follies to bring us food and take it away, and follies to clean my chambers. Follies to do the things that follies do." He paused delicately. "But when it comes to things I need done for me, you must do them."

  Selling joba melons had begun to seem a far easier task. "I'll do my best for you."

  "You will?" He laughed. "How refreshing. Now, I need to make myself gorgeous. Ring for the folly to bring some wine. You can lay out my clothes for me while I freshen."

  "Do you need my assistance in the privy, my lord?"<
br />
  Relief flooded me at his reply. "There are some things I prefer to do for myself. Pissing and shiteing are two of them."

  I nodded. As one who insisted on privacy in the bath myself, I couldn't argue. "Yes, my lord."

  He had me going up and down like a child's string toy. One minute solicitous, the next supercilious. I didn't know what to do, or how to act, only that he inspired in me the desire to please him. Not because I feared punishment at his displeasure, but for his approval. I admired his wit, his style, his grace and bearing. I wanted to be like him; I wanted him to like me.

  He gave me a wave of his fingers I couldn't interpret, then disappeared into his privy chamber. I rang for some wine and went into the small antechamber. I opened the door to the armoire and stared for some long moments before daring to touch one of the elegant tunics hanging inside.

  So many beautiful clothes. I stroked the soft fabrics and rubbed them against my face. They smelled like him. Like spice. The smooth folds caressed my cheeks, and it was easy enough for me to pretend, for one stolen moment, that his hand touched me there.

  But what to choose? The wealth of garments overwhelmed me. Tunics and garters and hose, codpieces and ruffled shirts in every color. I stepped back to look at the choices. He liked blue, I knew, for I'd seen him wear it more often than any other color. And yet, as I fingered the fine silks and satins, I thought of his glorious hair. I pulled out a vest of embroidered velvet with lace trim in a vivid shade of rose. Next, a long-sleeved shirt of paler rose, with ribbons of red and orange to tie at the wrists and throat. I pushed aside the rows of black and red pantaloons and chose instead a pair of balloon trousers that gathered at the thigh and bore more embroidery along the wide rippled panels of velvet. The deep orange color shouldn't have matched the pinkish shirt and vest...but when I held them up together, all I could see was Daelyn's beautiful hair hanging down.

  "Aeris! What are you waiting for? Sinder's Return?"

  I gathered the clothes and added a pair of sheer stockings and a matching cod, then took them into the prince's main chamber. "Right here, my lord."

  The privy door opened a crack, and he glared at me when I made to try and catch a glimpse inside. "Privacy?"

  I handed him the pile of clothes and retreated. I looked at the tangled covers of his bed and smoothed them. I laughed at myself, doing women's work. My fingers didn't fall off, nor did blinding pain assault me, as many men would believe might happen. My smile faded. Perhaps doing women's work gave me no ill effects because women's work was what I should be doing.

  I didn't have time to think about it anymore. Daelyn, smelling of soap and clad in the clothes I'd chosen, swept from the bath. He stomped to the full-length mirror on the wall, put his hands on his hips, and glared.

  "What by Sinder's Blue Balls did you put me into?"

  Before I could reply, he whirled and swept his hands up and down his body. "Don't you know balloon trousers have been out of fashion for at least a fortnight? Do you intend to make me a laughingstock in front of those prancing ponies I call my comrades?"

  "My lord, I –"

  "And the colors! Sinder's Arrow, Aeris, what makes you think pink and orange match?"

  "My lord –"

  He wouldn't let me finish. He twirled, sliding a little on his stockinged feet on the marble floor, to face the mirror again. "I dare say the only thing you got right was the cod and the stockings!"

  My heart fell. I'd failed him. "My lord--"

  Daelyn spun to look at me. "I will absolutely set the lot of them on their satin-covered asses. Not a one of them would have ever thought to pair balloons with a vest like this. And the colors! How did you know they'd look so well together? Aeris, you've got an eye on you."

  I bit my lip to control my grin. "I thought the colors would bring out the sheen of your hair."

  "My hair?" He touched it, unbound and streaming over his shoulders. His grin drooped a little as he looked at me curiously. He crowed and clapped his hands together. "Right on their asses. Sinder's Arrow, I can't wait to see that bastard Vermonte's face when he sees me in this. He's already gone to wide-legged trousers and boots. He might be my Fashion Master, but even he's not so bold as this."

  "I hope I've pleased you," was all I could say. My entire face hurt from the effort of keeping the smile from my lips.

  The prince tilted his head back and a gleam entered his gaze. "Come here."

  I took two fumbling steps. He took my hand and pulled me so close I could smell the scented oil he'd used in the bath. His lips brushed the curve of my ear and sent a trickle of sensation down my spine.

  "Thank you," he whispered. "For making me lovely."

  "You're already lovely." Our eyes met, his assessing and mine...well, the Invisible Mother only knows what shone in mine. His touch had set my heart thumping and dried my mouth.

  He laughed, breaking the spell. "I know that. But you've proven I made a good choice. I adore being right."

  He smoothed his hair again and his eye caught the timepiece mounted on the wall. "And now, I'm going to be late if I don't hurry."

  I was less confident with his hair and cosmetics than I'd been with the clothes, but my good choices with the latter gave him patience with my fumblings with former. At last he took the brushes and pots of color from me and applied them himself, lecturing me all the while on how I'd need to practice this until I could get it right.

  When he stood, hair braided with ribbon and face made up, he fair took away my breath. His snapping fingers shocked me out of my dreamy musings.

  "Don't fall asleep on me. You still have to help me with my cloak."

  He gestured toward the row of hooks near the door, where several cloaks hung. I picked out one as he pulled an ornate, feathered hat from the stand next to his vanity table. Daelyn waited while I hung the heavy material round his shoulders before he flicked the length of it back to expose the patterned underside, grabbed a walking stick from the holder, and slipped into the shoes he'd chosen.

  "My lord," I blurted, when I saw he meant to go out and leave me alone. "Don't...don't you need me there tonight?"

  Daelyn considered me for a moment. "No. I'm afraid I don't."

  I tried hard not to show my disappointment, but he must have seen it anyway for he chucked me under the chin and clucked his tongue in a sympathetic noise. "Don't fret, poppet. I'll be back, drunk as a louse, sometime before the third chime."

  I nodded, my face as stoic as I could make it. "Of course."

  He laughed, a light trilling chuckle. "Spend the night expanding your brain instead of rotting it. You'll be all the better for it."

  With that, he swept out the door, and though the light hadn't changed, the room seemed darker without him in it. I looked at the book and papers he'd given me. "A History of Alyria." It sounded dull as dust, and now, without him there to keep me awake, my eyes were nearly closing. I put the book aside, gave myself a quick wash, and crawled into my narrow bed to sleep again.

  Chapter Seven

  Several days passed. I was Daelyn's constant companion, though not his comrade, during the day. Nights I spent alone reading from his library and "expanding my brain." Sometimes I woke to put him to bed when he came stumbling in. Most times, though he claimed to have been drunk, he slipped into bed as silent as night and didn't wake me until morning.

  There was comfort in a routine, in learning my way around the White Palace. I met the cooks and groundskeepers, the follies, the lads who worked in the armory. I fetched and carried and dressed and served Prince Daelyn, and though the work sometimes chafed me, it was far better than working in the joba melon stand.

  My bruises had turned to yellow when the routine changed. I'd woken before first light forced itself through Daelyn's heavy draperies. He snored lightly in his great bed. Though it was large enough for four men, he was alone. He was always alone. If ever he took a lover, he did his loving in beds other than his own.

  Bathed, I dressed and braided my hair. I sent
out Daelyn's shoes and clothes for cleaning and mended a small hole in one of his vests. A larger tear with a ragged edge I sent for repairs. I put away the books and papers he left strewn about, gathered the tray of mugs and dirty ashbowls and put them in the hall for a folly to remove.

  At home, the morning didn't begin without the women of the house bustling with silent efficiency to feed and clothe and soothe the men they served. Here, my day didn't begin until Daelyn woke. Despite his late nights, he usually did before the eight chime, even though he might stay abed until the next. Today the ninth had already rung.

 

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