by CJ Brightley
Oh, gosh. I squeezed my eyes shut. He thinks that’s something we have in common. I couldn’t believe he’d misunderstood me so completely. And it wasn’t like I could correct him. Not with the Ruler on her way back next week.
“Jontan,” I said, opening my eyes, “I . . . I’m honored that you’ve seen that. I truly love you like family. But I just don’t think we have any chemistry. You know what I mean?”
There was a long silence. “No,” Jontan said. “I’ve always thought that we did.”
Ouchhhhh . . .
“Well, I’m sorry,” I said, ducking my face. “I . . . I guess I’ll see you around, then.”
I turned to walk off, even though the song was still going.
“Wait,” Jontan said. “Raneh!”
I turned around, humiliated. “Yesssss?” I asked slowly.
He took a deep breath. “I . . . don’t think you should marry Genn,” he said slowly. “Even if you don’t want to marry me, I don’t think he’s a good choice.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Jontan bit his lower lip. “It’s not my place to say. It’s only a suspicion, and I don’t spread rumors. But talk to him. He may be hiding something, and you need to know it.”
Confused, I nodded. I had no idea what Jontan meant, but he was smart. I trusted his judgment. Even if he had apparently been very wrong about me.
As if to release me from awkwardness, Jontan turned and headed toward the dessert table. Hurik waved at him and pointed vigorously at one of the platters, grinning and shouting something unintelligible from this far away.
I looked around desperately, wondering where Genn was. I had to find him now. He hadn’t gone home, had he? If he had, I’d storm right over there and fetch him back right away!
I shoved through the crowd, heedless of a few offended people snatching crumbs of status from me, and looked down our dirt path leading to the road.
And there he was. Sitting in the dirt. Talking and laughing with . . . who else? . . . his vassals.
I put my head in my hands. How could he do this? How could he be so utterly clueless that he would think this was okay?
Sure, it was fine to be friends with your vassals. Sure, it was fine to spend time with them. But not at a party filled with landowners. Your vassals were always there. Landowners had to come from far away to be seen!
I marched over, trying not to show how irritated I was.
“You know, if you want to sit, you could sit over there,” I said pointedly, gesturing at the rows of seats that were now being lugged away by our vassals.
“Where do you store those when you aren’t using them?” Genn asked curiously.
“Father buys them, vassals keep them, except when we need them,” I said impatiently. “So. Would you like to dance?”
Genn got a woebegone look on his face. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” I said. “The correct answer is yes.”
Genn sighed and heaved himself up out of the dirt path. He brushed off his bottom, which was covered in dusty dirt. “Better?” he asked.
I felt my eyebrows twitching. “Get a napkin. Clean your hands first. Then we can dance.”
Honestly, I thought in annoyance, as he shuffled off to the dessert table. How is he ever going to learn to act like a landowner if he keeps doing such vassalish things?
“Raneh,” the mathematician girl said shyly. “Your name is Raneh, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” I asked, startled. “Oh. Yes.” The girl looked barely older than Yaika’s age. I wondered how long it’d been since her oath ceremony. “And you’re . . . what was your name?”
“Lilla,” she said. “Um . . . I hear Genn is courting you.”
“Yes,” I said. “He is.”
She nodded. She was silent for awhile.
“Well . . . Genn is a very nice person,” she said finally. “I hope you are good enough for him.”
That startled me. I, good enough for Genn? I was about to snap back that he was the one who sat in dirt and had no clue how to dance properly. But then I realized that they’d both been vassals on the same land. They’d probably been friends for years, like Jontan and me.
“Sure,” I said, nodding graciously.
“Good enough for him?” Dakk cackled, scratching his neck. “Good one, Lilla.”
Genn wandered back carrying a filthy napkin, the blue-swirled cloth now covered in brown smudges. He dropped it on the ground and held out his hands. “Better?” he asked.
I tried not to stare at the cloth on the ground, fighting back my temper. He hadn’t been raised with manners, I reminded myself. I couldn’t expect him to realize how rude he was acting.
“Much better,” I said, trying to smile. “Just two dances, I promise. Then I’ll introduce you to our neighbors.”
“Oh, joy,” Genn muttered.
The open space had several more dancers now, enough so that I hoped we wouldn’t stand out too badly.
As Genn jammed one hand under my armpit and dug one elbow under my ribs, I winced and braced myself for dancing that would probably not hurt anyone’s feelings, but would definitely hurt my feet.
14
“No, my feet don’t hurt,” I assured the concerned woman, plastering a smile on my face. I had pulled off my shoes and collapsed on one of the blankets spread across the torron grass, and had been holding my injured toes gingerly. “I just twisted my ankle slightly. Entirely my own fault, I assure you.”
“Are you sure?” the woman asked breathlessly. She wore her hair down, which meant she was married, but she barely looked older than me. Given the amount of status she had, and the finery she was wearing, and the fact that she was a stranger to me, I was guessing she had married one of the heirs in our area and was now living with his family. They were probably saving up enough status to buy their own land. “I saw the way he kept smashing your toes, and —”
“He has a much lighter step than it seemed,” I smiled. “It’s no concern. Thank you for worrying.”
“Well . . .” The woman fluttered, looking at Genn nervously, like she was considering punishing his status. But I pasted a huge smile on my face.
“Really,” I said firmly, with a slight edge. “Everything’s fine. Speaking of which, you and your husband are simply marvelous at dancing. Who taught the other?” I smiled a huge, fake smile and threw a drop of status her way.
“Oh!” the woman cried, putting her hands to her cheeks. “Did you see us? He’s so much better than me, isn’t he?”
“He’s splendid,” I said. “But I think you are his equal.”
“Oh!” she gasped, clutching her cheeks. She giggled and spun around, layers of skirts swooshing. Then she ran off, back to the open area.
Genn lay back on the blanket, looking both humiliated and relieved. “Thanks, Raneh,” he muttered. “I didn’t even notice them on the dance floor.”
“Me, neither,” I said.
He looked guiltily at my feet. “Did I hurt you that badly?”
“Nope,” I lied. Actually, my toes were killing me. But I didn’t think they were broken or anything. “I’ll be fine. And I know you didn’t want to dance at all. So thank you for doing it.”
“I wish I didn’t have to,” he muttered, lying back and looking up at the sky. “Is it really so much worse for me not to dance than for me to dance that badly?”
“Honestly? In one party? No,” I said. “But if you never dance, people will start noticing. And you’ll get better with time.” I hope, I thought desperately.
Genn looked less sure of that than I was. “You may or may not have noticed that I’m really, really clumsy.”
“Really? You don’t say.” I carefully straightened my stocking, which had wrinkled under my foot, and re-laced my right shoe, twisting the ribbons around the eyelet hooks. I twisted the stocking on my left foot, and replaced that shoe, too.
I swallowed as I remembered what Jontan had said earlier. This seemed as good a time as any to ask.
�
�Genn?” I said nervously, my heart pounding. I glanced around to make sure nobody was near enough to us to be listening.
“Hmm?” he asked. He lay upwards, facing the sky.
I took a deep breath. “Do you . . . are you . . . keeping secrets from me?”
Genn started. He looked tense. “No, of course not,” he said.
“Genn,” I said carefully, “this is important. If you’re considering marrying me . . .”
Guilt immediately flashed across Genn’s face.
“Nope,” he said. “Nope, nothing.”
Well, that wasn’t a good sign. “Are you sure?” I tried again. “I mean, there might be something that —”
“No!” Genn exploded, sitting bolt upright. “I said no, and I meant it! Honestly, Raneh, why do you keep asking?! Don’t you trust me?”
I jerked back.
No, I thought, stung. No, I don’t trust you. Not when you looked guilty right before you claimed there was nothing!
“Everyone has secrets,” I said, scrambling to salvage this. “I mean, I’m just saying, if there’s anything you might have forgotten to mention . . .”
“I came to this party, even though I didn’t want to! I danced with you, even though I didn’t want to! I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do!” Genn cried. “What else do you want?”
“I want you to tell me the truth!” I shouted.
“I did!” Genn screamed. “You just didn’t believe me!”
He started to storm off, twisted his ankle on the edge of the blanket, and went flying across the grass. Then he picked himself up, glared back at me, and kept going with an aura of injured dignity.
I wanted to laugh, but my heart felt like it had settled somewhere around my battered toes.
“Is something wrong?” a breathless woman Mother’s age demanded, swooping near me. Her eyes were wide, and she looked breathless for new gossip. “What happened between the two of you, dear?”
A flash of fury ran through me. But fortunately, I didn’t lose my head completely.
“He — he just — he thinks my sister looks far more beautiful than me,” I said, faking a sob. “And she does, doesn’t she?”
“Ohh.” The woman’s eyes lit up with false sympathy. “Well, of course you’re quite lovely too, dearie.”
I let out a fake sob and put my face in my hands. When I looked up through my fingers, she was mercifully gone.
Yes, yes, go spread your new rumor, I thought bitterly. At least it will enhance my sister’s reputation, so someone will get something out of this.
I was in a pretty bad mood when I wandered over to the dessert table and picked up one of Grandmother’s frizzle pastries. It was fried and flaky and left my hands all oily, so I grabbed a napkin, too. I crunched into it, feeling layers of thin crispiness dissolve in my mouth.
“Have you tried the caramel inna bars?” Hurik demanded from the other side of the table. “They’re sooooo good. I stirred the caramel sauce. And I helped her crush the inna petals for the filling!”
I hesitantly accepted the sticky concoction he was waving at me, dropping it in my napkin and licking off my fingers. The caramel sauce was good, but sticky. I balanced the pastry on my napkin and bit into it gingerly, keeping the concoction as far away from my face as possible.
“Amazing, right?” Hurik asked, bouncing up and down.
I nodded, though the texture was unappetizing. Lots of people liked thick, rich sauces that clung to the roofs of their mouths. I wasn’t one of them.
“So, I’m going to stay with Grandmother Rella and Grandfather Doss for a few weeks,” Hurik added casually. “Mother and Father asked them, and they said great.”
I wrenched my teeth apart and stared at him incredulously. “They did what? Hurik, you shouldn’t accept!”
“Why not?” he asked, prying another of those super-sticky pastries off of the tray. Disgusting caramel goop trailed from his fingers. I shuddered. “I like Grandfather Doss. And I’ve never visited them all by myself. You did, the year before last.”
“That was after I was statused,” I said hotly. “So I could meet eligible heirs in their area, in case any of them struck my fancy. You’re not statused yet!”
Hurik shrugged. “Well, I don’t care about courting, but it seems a pretty good way to avoid meeting the Ruler to me.”
I gaped. “They told you that’s why they’re sending you?”
“Yeah,” Hurik said. “Can you believe Yaika invited the Ruler here? She’s so insane.”
“But . . . but don’t you see what this means?” I hissed, leaning forward no one could overhear what we were saying. “It means Mother and Father find you embarrassing!”
“I find them embarrassing,” Hurik shot back. “Always caring about status, status, status, as if that’s everything. I’m sure the Ruler’s much worse. I’m glad to avoid meeting her.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in heavily. I shouldn’t be offended for him if he wasn’t. But I was. It didn’t seem right that Mother and Father should treat him like an outcast. Like something to be ashamed of. Like somebody worth hiding.
Someone like me.
“Fine,” I said, struggling with my temper. “You have a great time being rewarded for your lack of any social skills whatsoever while we’re stuck here playing hosts to the most finicky person in the whole Rulership. I’m sure we’ll absolutely love it while you’ve having a vacation all on your own.”
Hurik drew back. “Uh . . . are you okay?”
“No, I’m not!” I burst out, and then whipped my head back to see if anyone was listening. Quite a few heads had whipped our way, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Ugh, I thought, wanting to cringe.
“I’m sorry,” Hurik said loudly. “I didn’t mean to spill that caramel on you. C’mon, I’ll wash you off.”
Relieved, I let him walk me to the front door. A few people looked indignant on my behalf, but with Hurik having no status, they couldn’t do much but glare at him.
Hurik opened the front door, led me into the house, then plopped onto one of the cushioned chairs in the sitting room. I squinted as I shut the door, trying to see. It felt gloomy indoors, after the brightness of midday.
“Okay,” he said, folding his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”
I swallowed and traced a foot through the carpet. I pulled up another cushioned chair to face him.
“It’s . . . it’s everything,” I mumbled, sitting down. My eyes were still adjusting to the dimness, so I could barely see his face. “Yaika’s got status, so now she’s going to be the star of everything. I’m considering marrying a boy who’s probably keeping secrets from me. And you get to escape the Ruler’s visit while I still have to stay!”
There was a long moment of silence as Hurik processed this.
“Okay,” he said, leaning forward. He put his hands on his knees, leaving sticky caramel stains. “First of all, Yaika’s always been the star of everything. This isn’t going to change much.”
“Yes, it is,” I mumbled. “Because now she’ll be going to all the same social events as me, and she’ll be bringing back more status, and more suitors, and I’ll look like nothing. At least until now, I’ve been special because . . . because . . . well, because I was the only one who could do those things.”
Hurik sucked on his teeth for a minute. It was annoyingly loud. “I don’t really get that, but I guess it matters, if you care that much about it,” he said. “Aren’t you going to get married, though? I mean, then you’ll be eligible to attend all sorts of social events she can’t be at. Just like Mother and Father.”
“Only if I do get married soon,” I said gloomily. “Jontan thinks Genn’s hiding something from me. And Jontan’s usually right about everything.”
“Not everything,” Hurik snorted. “He thinks filias are the most beautiful flower in the whole Rulership.”
“You don’t think so, either?” I asked, looking up hopefully.
Hurik made a face. “Oh,
please. They’re ugly. They’re purple-blue spiky things. And they’re annoyingly snooty.”
I jumped up and flung my arms around him.
Hurik pushed me off, his eyes wide. “What was that for?!”
“I just — I just —” I sniffed. “I thought I was the only person who felt that way.”
Hurik shuddered and brushed his shoulders, leaving caramel smears across them. “Okay, okay. Great. But don’t hug me. That’s gross, Raneh. Only Mother and Father get to hug me.”
Gross, I thought, looking down at my bodice. I started to laugh. There were tiny finger splotches under my shoulders now, where Hurik had shoved me. Yeah, Hurik. It’s so gross to hug me.
“Are we done now?” Hurik asked hopefully.
“What if I don’t want to marry Genn?” I burst out. “What if he’s the wrong person? What if I’m making a terrible mistake to even consider it?”
Hurik’s shoulders drooped. “Do I really have to be here for this?”
“What if he’s the only boy who ever wants to marry me, ever?”
“Then . . . you’ll stay an heir for the rest of your life, I guess?”
I collapsed back into my seat and put my head in my hands.
The legs of Hurik’s chair squeaked as he shifted his weight. “Um, if you think Genn’s keeping secrets from you, why don’t you just ask him?”
“I tried that,” I mumbled, face in my hands. “He said he wasn’t.”
“So . . . maybe he’s telling the truth.”
“He looked incredibly guilty,” I said miserably. “I’m sure he was lying.”
Hurik sighed, loudly. “Then don’t marry the guy.”
“What if I’m keeping secrets from him?” I mumbled.
“Then tell him?”
I swallowed and looked up. “Do you really think Genn is trustworthy?” I asked shakily. “I mean . . . trustworthy with my life?”
“I dunno,” Hurik shrugged. “I barely know him. But if you don’t think so, you probably shouldn’t marry him.”