Arrival of the Traveler (Waldgrave Book 1)

by A. L. Tyler

  In light of her decision to make a run for the Council, Lena had been asked by Howard to start dressing more professionally. She asked Mrs. Ralston to help her with her hair, makeup, and clothes, and then started the lengthy process of being introduced to every crusty old Council member that Howard deemed an ally. She shook hands until she felt like her arm was going to fall off, but it did seem to be working. Howard wanted her to sit with him and some other Council members at the big dinner so she could “make a good impression,” so after she was done shaking hands, she sought out Hesper for a quick information exchange.

  “Hesper, dude, you aren’t going to believe this.” Lena whispered excitedly, grabbing her arm when she came down the stairs so no one else would get to her first. She tried to look around the room to be sure no one else was paying attention; everyone seemed to be involved in their own circles.

  “Did you just call me ‘dude’?” Hesper raised an eyebrow.

  “Sit down.”

  Lena forced her friend into a chair in the corner of the living room. She could barely contain herself, and Hesper was already laughing a little.

  “Okay—no, wait! I want to guess. My mom had an affair? Or my dad?” Hesper’s eyes lit up.

  Lena shook her head. “Oh, it’s too good…”

  “She caught a freakish disease during their last trip to Europe?”

  “Nope.” Lena said.

  “The kitchen staff finally rebelled and killed her?”

  Lena sat down on the arm of the chair and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Your mom is knocked up.”

  Hesper let loose a squeal that caused the room to go quiet for a moment. When everyone had gone back to their previous engagements, she turned to Lena. “You’re kidding! She is not!”

  “She is. According to Griffin, anyway.”

  Hesper leaned in close. “Was it planned?”

  Lena giggled. “You know, I asked Griffin, and he was really evasive about answering that question…”

  Hesper’s jaw dropped. “This is the best wedding present I’ve received so far. Lena, thank you so much.”

  “And speaking of, your marriage will be recognized, but there will be no ceremony. Whatever that means.” Lena said.

  “Oh! That’s fantastic! Basically, we’ll retain all of our rights, but there won’t be a party. That’s much better than I thought we’d get, actually.” Hesper furrowed her brow. “I wonder why he’s going to allow it…”

  “Who cares. What’s done is done, so let’s all be grateful.” Lena looked over and saw Howard walking towards her. Behind him, people were starting to file into the dining room. “And there’s my date. I’ll have to see you later.”

  Howard escorted Lena to a spot around the midsection of the main table, where they sat down together. Seated around them were the Brendons, the Abbotts, and the Riveras. They were dressed very much like everyone else, in suits, dresses, and stern expressions. Lena introduced herself to all of the various wives and sons who were already serving or were planning to serve as heirs, and then the inquisition began.

  Mrs. Brendon, a mousy woman with a stately and respectable manner, folded her napkin in her lap and looked at Lena without smiling. She wasn’t well-liked among most of the other Silenti women; she owned a ranch in southern Colorado that she ran by herself while Mr. Brendon lived in Albuquerque. Hesper had explained once that they weren’t divorced, exactly, because Silenti laws didn’t permit divorce. Mrs. Brendon spent far too much time entertaining humans, and many people felt that she should no longer retain the right to attend Council meetings as a family member. “Well, I can’t say we weren’t surprised to hear about your ambitions. Do you really think it’s a woman’s place?”

  Lena looked at Howard. Howard merely looked back, leaving her to fend for herself. “Well, I feel that every person has a right to hold influences over his or her own life. The times are changing, and I don’t see any reason why a woman shouldn’t be on the Council.”

  Mrs. Brendon smiled politely. She picked up the glass of water in front of her. “You don’t think it will have an effect on your raising a family?”

  It was a loaded question, and everyone within earshot had stopped talking to listen to Lena’s response. It was well known that for Lena, the very personal decision of whether or not to have children was considered a matter of public concern. She weighed her options carefully; in the end, she decided it was best not to lie. “I love children. But I don’t plan on ever having any.”

  Sitting next to her, Howard looked like he was about to be sick. There were several shocked faces sitting across the table from her. Mrs. Brendon, however, was smiling.

  “You don’t scare easily. That will serve you well.” She raised her glass to Lena, and then took a polite sip before resigning herself to her pork chop.

  Master Rivera cleared his throat. “You don’t believe in the prophecy, then?”

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t go that far…” Lena thought desperately hard to put her feelings into words. She needed to make a recovery—saying that she didn’t believe in the prophecy would tag her as a radical, greatly reducing her chances of getting onto the Council. Howard reached and scratched his ear next to her. “I just believe that if the prophecy is true, then my not having children shouldn’t affect it.”

  “How’s that?” Master Rivera looked puzzled. He was a tan-skinned man with dark hair and sharp, serious eyes.

  “Well…” Lena shut her mouth. She didn’t want to babble until she knew what she wanted to say. “I’ve studied some of the ancient texts that concern the matter of the portal and the heir…and knowing how far back the original ancestor dates to…ah…well…”

  “You don’t believe your family line represents the only descendants?” Master Rivera guessed, raising a hand to his chin.

  “Yes!” Lena breathed a sigh of relief. “Exactly. Why, I suppose it’s true that any one of us could have become entangled in the mess generations ago. Even if the stories are true, I couldn’t possibly be the very last one. It’s a sacred prophecy, and if it’s for real, nothing I can do will stop it.”

  There was silence again as her dinner mates took in what she had just managed to spit out. Mrs. Brendon was actually looking impressed, which was more than could be said for everyone else sitting around her. Polite silence filled the space between them, and Lena realized that she had fumbled the question; people didn’t care what her thoughts were. They cared about her actions. She was going to greatly displease half of society, and both sides wanted to know it wasn’t going to be them; she couldn’t please everybody. Eventually, she was going to have to pick, because statements of compromise weren’t going to get her anywhere.

  Lena allowed her eyes to wander briefly before the next hard question was put to her. Master Daray, looking to be his usual fresh-pressed self, was once again sitting at the head of the table—Master Corbett was conspicuously absent from his side, and indeed anywhere at the head of the table. To Daray’s right, on the opposite side of the table from Lena, was Griffin. He’d been watching her for some time.

  You look lovely tonight.

  Lena’s eyes snapped back to the disappointed faces in front of her. Thankfully, Master Daray stood up and started talking at that point, and while he did manage to blather on for a good ten minutes, he didn’t say anything as offensive or shocking as he had at the first dinner of the last gathering. When he went silent, and the food was being brought out, Master Rivera’s son and heir, Jason, finally spoke.

  He was paler than his father, and had a thin, though athletic, build. It was well-known that Jason had attended a private boarding school in Maine for the last several years of his life, which was considered odd for the first born child of such wealthy parents—most eligible Council heirs spent their youths learning and networking with Silenti families. Lena had heard Hesper coin his new nickname, “the third culture kid,” when he had arrived in the entrance hall wearing a shirt supporting the campaign of a human politician. Lena
had immediately developed an interest in him; like her, he didn’t belong here.

  “I’ve never heard that position before. The implications are…unsettling and astounding, to say the least. You really believe the fate of the prophecy is out of our hands?” He asked.

  The serving staff arrived. Next to her, Howard was happier than she’d ever heard him. “Food! Excellent! No more politics tonight. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until the exposition. So, Orville, I’m told you made a trip to Belize over the summer?”

  A small smile appeared on Master Abbott’s face and he glanced over at his wife. “Well, that’s a funny story, actually. Katia and I were…”

  As her dinner salad landed in front of her, Lena noticed a small piece of paper sticking out slightly from under one edge of the bowl. She turned around and saw Tab, Devin’s new and slightly younger protégé, wink at her. She discretely took the note in her hand and unfolded it as she set her napkin in her lap. She took care to read it without reading it out loud in her head.

  Don’t eat the potatoes. Trust me. –Dev

  She looked over at the kitchen door, where she saw Devin wave and then give her a thumbs up. She looked back at her dinner plate. Beef, greens, and mashed potatoes. Across the table from her, the Brendons and Abbotts had already sampled the forbidden food; Lena tried not to laugh make a face to give away the situation, though she was secretly mortified. As dinner and conversation went on, she tried to pick around her plate as inconspicuously as possible.

  *****

  CHAPTER 15

  The dance followed the dinner in the ballroom on the opposite side of the entrance hall from the dining room. The ballroom had been decorated with elaborate displays of fresh flowers and was lit by candelabras and chandeliers. Off in a far corner, there was a small group of musicians playing various dances. To Lena’s relief, no one was in the mood for politics once the dancing began. She tried to keep herself hidden in a corner, but it wasn’t long until Griffin sought her out to annoy her.

  “Princess.” He said with a nod and a pleased smile.

  Lena had been busy watching Hesper and Eric across the room. They had stolen a different corner, and were dancing together, very close. Hesper was laughing at something he had said; Eric was smiling in his subtle way. “Why can’t you just be happy for them?”

  “Who?”

  Griffin followed Lena’s gaze out to the dance floor. He sighed.

  “The petition was granted, and I’m officially a Daray now.” He held out his hand. “Would you give me a victory dance?”

  Lena rolled her eyes. “No.”

  “Suit yourself.” And he walked away.

  Lena stared at Griffin’s retreating form in surprise. Had that really just happened? Not only Griffin asking her to dance, but then accepting ‘no’ as an answer? She watched him disappear into the crowd, and then he reappeared a moment later on the far side of the room. It wasn’t long before he was dancing with Bianca Channing, who looked more than happy to oblige to his request. Lena wasn’t sure why, but Bianca’s blond hair and flawless bright smile annoyed her after that, as did the way that she laughed every time Griffin said something. He wasn’t that amusing. She turned her attention back to Hesper and Eric, but quickly became bored. She shared a few dances with Howard, and then excused herself to go to bed.

  Exiting the ball room, she couldn’t help but feel slighted. Griffin had broken the rules; he asked, and she rejected. Then he insisted, and she still rejected. He hadn’t insisted this time, and she wasn’t sure what it meant, or why it mattered to her.

  As she passed through the library, she heard loud voices coming from Daray’s office. People were shouting at each other, and she paused for just a moment too long. The voices went silent.

  Eden, you will join us for a moment. Lena jumped and her heart bounced as adrenaline flooded her system.

  It didn’t matter how many times he did that—every time Lena wanted to run and hide like a scared four-year-old. She took a moment to gather herself and then walked as confidently as she could up to the office. She cracked the door and stuck her head in. “Yes?”

  She glanced around the office. Standing opposite the desk where Master Daray was seated was Master Corbett. He was red in the face, a vein pulsed on his forehead, and as he turned his gaze to Lena he had the look of a crazed dog.

  “Join us in the room properly, Eden. I have some business to finish concerning Master Corbett, and as you aspire to a political career, I feel you should learn from example.” His stern, dying gaze fell on Lena. You will now join me next to the desk.

  Lena tried to keep her flinch to herself, but felt the terror drawn on her face as she approached the two men. She took her place next to Daray and turned to face Master Corbett. Master Corbett smiled, revealing slightly crooked, off-white teeth. They weren’t disgusting or unkempt, but somehow seemed to betray Mr. Corbett’s groomed exterior.

  “Darius, you’ve been a good friend over the years, and you make an interesting proposal. Given your years of devoted service, I’ll consider accepting it, but as I’m sure you know it won’t benefit me either way. It’s a worthless proposal. As I’m sure you’ve heard, my dear little Eden will soon be a Collins. It’s a good thing Astley didn’t kill her, isn’t it? We all know how concerned the Council has become of late regarding her safety. I’d hate to think of what would become of anyone found to be involved in such an ordeal.”

  There was a pause. Lena was confused; did that mean that he knew of someone trying to kill her? Daray raised his eyebrows as if waiting for Master Corbett’s response, which he promptly supplied. “The Council would surely seek swift justice, as we both know.”

  “Indeed. Eden’s safety is paramount. But as she is going to become a Collins, it does leave me in quite a bind. I need someone to continue the Daray line, and it does not befit me to give Griffin back. I apologize for the inconvenience, as well as for the loss of your daughter.” Daray gave a look that was more mocking than apologetic, and Corbett started pacing the floor. After a moment’s pause, and never looking directly at Daray, he gave an outcry that was more of a whine than a demand.

  “You can’t do this to me, Pyrallis! He’s my son!”

  Master Daray shook his head. “Not for a long time, I’m afraid. I’ll consider your offer, but that is all for now.”

  As Master Corbett stormed out of the room, Lena turned on Daray, who was looking rather pleased with himself.

  “What the hell does that mean?” She had meant to speak with the anger she felt, but her voice had gone dry and flat. “Do you know about something…something going on? I’d really appreciate knowing if you know someone’s trying to kill me!”

  Daray hissed between his smile; he looked like he wanted to laugh. “Darius is in a tight spot; he does not command the respect of his family, and he’s lost favor in the Council since your little friend disgraced his name. I’m afraid he’s taken to blackmailing many of them to keep his voice in the vote—he angered a great deal of them over the summer by being so presumptuous of the fact that his family was going to inherit the throne. But that is obviously no longer the case, and his greed has caused all of them to reject him. How he loathes you, Eden. They all do, for one reason or another, but I wouldn’t worry about it. The zealots loathe me too.” He turned his dying eyes on her. “You’re perfectly safe here, Eden, as you’ll always be inside this house.”

  Lena left the office with her skin creeping and the look of satisfied dominance burned into her retinas. Once in her room, she found she wasn’t actually tired anymore. Unable to think of anything else to do, she pulled out her journal and her notes on Latito and practiced her conjugations well into the morning.

  Breakfast the next day dragged on for hours. People had been up so late the night before that many didn’t come down from their rooms until well after ten. Lena, however, was up bright and early, and sat down to eat with Alexis Alarid and her six-year-old brother Ivan. Alexis was unusual in the Silenti world in that
she wore a lot of dark clothing; she wasn’t exactly Gothic, but almost. Lena liked her because she looked different than everyone else; she wasn’t as outspoken as Hesper, though she did seem to have her own views on things. Ivan was a very creative child, and entertained himself by creating a sculpture of an airplane out of his oatmeal and toast.

  “Did you enjoy the dance last night?” Lena asked.

  Alexis yawned. “I didn’t get to come down until late. My parents made me watch Ivan until he fell asleep…I didn’t see you there, though.”

  “I went up early.” Lena frowned, remembering the way that Griffin had slighted her. “Anything fun happen after I left?”

  “Same old, same old.” Alexis replied, looking at Lena somberly. “Bunch of old people dancing, then the old people got tired and went to bed, then there were a bunch of young people dancing, then the musicians finally stopped playing, then people kind of went their own ways. The respectable ones go to bed, and the others tend to hang out in dark corners. It was a little bit disturbing, actually. I’m not too fond of those occasions.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like dancing. And I really don’t like the exchange of bodily fluids…it bothers me to see the way some of those kids will just kiss anyone that crosses their path. It’s like a giant germ factory—God knows what they're brewing at those parties, but let’s hope it doesn’t mutate and become airborne.” Alexis shivered.

  Lena cringed. “Gross. Glad I left early then.”

  Alexis and Lena watched as Ivan grabbed a stack of napkins and started to papier-mâché them around the oatmeal frame of his masterpiece.

  “Ivan, are you going to eat anything?” Alexis finally asked.

  “I’m not hungry.” Ivan replied, using his spoon to draw in windows. His accent was much thicker than any other member of the Alarid family; Lena had noticed that this was often the case with the younger children of Silenti families. Hesper had explained that younger boys, especially, were somewhat of a novelty to richer wives. The eldest son was the only one that really mattered, and they were often sent away into hiding to protect the future political stance of the family; the younger boys stayed at home, much like the girls, but they didn’t have nearly as confined upbringings because they didn’t have to advertise themselves for marriage. They were superfluous, and often left to their own devices. Many of them were expected to grow up and become artists, musicians, or scholars, bringing glory to their families by creating beautiful or novel works that would be admired by others. No one ever planned for Ivan to do anything but live in Russia as a secondary member of the family, and possibly take a wife to support a political alliance if it was requested of him, so it really didn’t matter if he spoke English with a strong Russian accent or not.