James’s eyes grew round before his brows scrunched low. “What?” He looked Jace up and down. “This is my half-brother?”
Jace’s ire shifted to his brother now, just as tempted to use a fist on him.
“James,” their mother said soothingly, “yes, he is your brother.”
“What does he want?” James looked on Jace with both suspicion and loathing.
“We’re his family. He just wants to be part of it.”
“He’s the issue of some ryrik.”
“James,” Rachel said more sternly. “Do you forget that I am his mother?”
James just glowered at Jace, and instead of trying to calm things, Rothas stood in silence, clearly pleased with his handiwork.
“Will you be all right with this?”
Jace looked over at Kyrin, who stood in the doorway as he packed up his things. “I have no choice. If I refuse, Rothas will use it against me. I don’t know if Lord Dunrick will ever accept me as his grandson, but if I’m not careful, I’ll destroy any credibility I do have with him.”
Kyrin sighed and bit her bottom lip. “Just beware of Rothas. Men like him are dangerous. You have no idea they’re manipulating you until it’s too late.”
And didn’t Jace know it.
“I will.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. She had enough to think about without worrying over him on top of it.
“At least Anne will be there tonight.”
He wasn’t sure if Kyrin said this for his benefit or her own. Either way, he would be glad to have someone from their group present. He needed all the allies he could get to face Rothas again.
Gathering up his pack and sword, he stepped to the door and looked down at Kyrin. Even more troubling to him than his issues with Rothas was the grave danger she would face come suppertime.
“We may not get to talk again before tonight. Please, be careful.” His throat ached with the plea. “Don’t take chances.”
If only he could stay with her! Instead, he would be stuck sharing a meal with some family members who wished he didn’t even exist.
“I won’t,” Kyrin murmured.
She stared up at him, and he stared back. It was the first time all day that his mother’s question came back to him. This crazy mix of fear, confusion, and admiration that squeezed and throbbed in his heart, robbing him of a decent breath… could it be love?
But now was neither the time nor the place to hash that out.
“Just… don’t get caught,” he said finally.
She gave a flicker of a smile. “I won’t.”
She stepped back, allowing him to pass through the door.
In the hall, Rayad met them. His eyes expressed sympathy, and he put his hand on Jace’s shoulder.
“I know this is difficult for you, but I want you to keep in mind that Elôm works in even the most difficult situations. We’ve all seen that. He has some plan in this that goes far above Rothas’s. And, Jace, He wants the best for you. You can be assured of that.”
Jace glanced down at the floor, but nodded. He would try to believe it.
Looking Rayad in the eyes again, he said, “Take care of Kyrin.”
“I will.”
Jace forced himself to move, and strode down the hall. As he climbed the stairs, hesitancy took hold of him. Though they were all in the same house, it was almost as if he were leaving his friends behind. If he gained acceptance from his family, was this how it would always be? Would he have to choose one or the other? This new prospect deeply disturbed him.
Upstairs in the hall, his mother met him with a gentle smile. Such a kind woman shouldn’t have to live such a hard life. If only Jace could find some sort of understanding in all this. What could Elôm be doing?
His mother motioned to him, and he followed her down the hall.
“I’ll show you to your room. I was going to prepare one near the rest of ours, but I didn’t think Rothas would appreciate that… or James.”
Jace agreed. It probably wasn’t a good idea for him and James to be in close proximity. Like his father, James had a way of pushing Jace dangerously close to rash action.
“But I don’t want you to feel that you’re only a guest.” His mother looked at him, her expression earnest, as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. “You’re not.”
Jace held back a sigh. He felt even lower than a guest. More like an intruder, but he kept this to himself. He wouldn’t destroy her effort to make him feel welcome.
In the upstairs hall, Rachel opened a door a couple of rooms down from Anne’s. At least he would be nearer to Kyrin. This gave him some comfort.
He followed his mother into the room and looked around. It was more masculine than the other rooms he had seen. A wide bed with a navy blue canopy sat perpendicular to him. The other furnishings included a large wardrobe matching the bed’s dark wood frame. Straight across the room, heavy drapes were thrown back to let sunlight through a pair of wide windows. He’d never stayed in such a large, rich space before. To come from slave yards to this was staggering.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
Jace snapped out of his thoughts to face his mother. She looked hesitant.
“I’m sorry you were forced into this. I know it must make you uncomfortable.”
“I’ll manage.” Jace tried to smile for her and looked about the room again. “It’ll just take some getting used to.”
He set his pack in a chair and propped his sword against it. If Kyrin was successful tonight, he might not even be here long enough to get used to it. A sudden ache throbbed inside him at the thought of leaving his mother. What if he only had one more day with her? If so, why did it have to be marred by tonight’s supper and whatever ill plans Rothas had for him?
Behind him, his mother said, “I don’t know what you want to do this afternoon, but Charles arrived while you were downstairs. He wants to see you, and I know it may not be pleasant, but I think the more my father gets to know you, the more he’ll open up.”
Jace drew in a breath, forcing aside the longing to sit and visit privately with his mother as he had the last two days. He wanted to see Charles, but it came at a heavy price if it meant facing his grandfather and Rothas again. Yet, if that was what his mother wanted, he would do it. “I’ll come down.”
The proud look she offered buoyed him up.
Back down in the drawing room, the family was still gathered, this time including Charles and Anne. She gave him an encouraging smile. She might not be able to help him much, but there was some comfort in the fact that she knew more about this lifestyle than he did.
Charles offered a friendly greeting as Jace took a seat in the chair his mother indicated. He made a quick sweep of the room. His grandparents sat together on the loveseat across from him while Elanor and Anne occupied another. Rothas and James each had a chair at the far end. Jace could only see his brother’s profile, but the young man seemed intent on brooding. Rothas, however, watched him, and Jace once again got that sense of a predator from him.
The conversation was slow and awkward at first, but gained momentum. Charles, being the gentleman he was, attempted to keep things light and cheery. Between him and the four women, they had the other men well outnumbered, which helped. Lord Dunrick didn’t have much to say, but Jace strove to leave him with something of a good impression. Rothas was surprisingly silent as well, and Jace worked hard to ignore his constant scrutiny.
He didn’t have to work at it long. After less than an hour, Rothas stood. He offered no excuses, but motioned to James, who followed him out. Though everyone pretended not to notice, Jace stared at the door they had exited. Unease crept through his stomach. While the oppressive mood had followed them out, the saying held true about keeping your enemies close. Who knew what schemes the two of them might be hatching off in private? They would surely get rid of him if they could, and the hair rose along his arms.
Still, with the two most hostile forces now gone, things livened up.
Since the majority of them knew Jace’s background already, they focused more on their own lives. Jace enjoyed learning more about each of them, particularly Elanor. He discovered they shared a common love for horses and riding. She made him promise to take her out to see Niton and his tricks when they had the chance. He also found she liked to hunt, thanks to their uncle. She and Kyrin would get along well given the chance.
The afternoon passed by much more quickly than Jace had anticipated. He had overcome one hurdle, but an even greater was fast approaching. A formal dinner was not something he had any experience dealing with.
When Elanor and Anne excused themselves to prepare for dinner, Jace took the opportunity to go to his room for a short time of solitude. Though the afternoon had not been overly taxing, he was still drained. The amount of energy it took to sit in the same room with the man responsible for his past and not hate him for it was exhausting. If only his grandfather would display even the smallest hint of remorse, or at least goodwill toward him.
Once behind his closed door, he sagged back and rubbed his eyes as he released a sigh. He just wasn’t made for this. Letting his arms fall to his sides, he stared down at his clothing. While the women would show up to dinner in their evening gowns and the men would be dressed in their lordly attire, he would arrive in rough linen and scuffed leather. He would be as a peasant showing up at the table of nobility. It had never mattered before, and he didn’t like that it did now.
A knock sounded behind him. He turned and pulled the door open to let his mother enter. In one hand, she held a white shirt and had other black articles of clothing draped over her arm.
“Rothas sent me with these for you.”
Jace eyed the outfit and raised a brow. Rothas had sent clothes for him?
Rachel shook her head, her expression tired. “I don’t know, Jace. I don’t know what he’s doing.”
Jace had his suspicions. Maybe, by offering the clothes, Rothas wanted him to feel indebted, and therefore gain some measure of control over him. Either that or he just knew how uncomfortable Jace would be wearing them. A cruel way to make the evening even more unpleasant.
He peered at the clothing in disgust. Should he take them and follow right along with Rothas’s game? Either choice had its drawbacks. At last, he took them from his mother. If Rothas thought this would gain him any power, he was mistaken.
His mother gave him a weary smile. “You did well this afternoon. I think my father just might be thawing.”
Jace struggled with unwillingness to believe that, but she didn’t appear to have said it just for his benefit.
“I’ll see you downstairs.” She turned and left him alone again.
Jace closed the door and laid the clothing on his bed. He scowled as he started changing. With any luck, the clothing wouldn’t even fit him. He murmured a prayer that it would be so; however, the shirt was only a little snug across the shoulders. Not quite enough to prevent him from wearing it. He grumbled under his breath.
As he fastened the ornate silver buckles of the well-tailored suede jerkin, he stepped in front of the mirror to inspect himself. The black pants and jerkin contrasted sharply with the pristine cotton shirt. He tugged the jerkin down, smoothing any wrinkles. The way it was constructed, fitted at the waist and tapered to a point, emphasized his muscular chest and shoulders. He shrugged his shoulders. The rich material didn’t feel right. He glanced down at the toes of his boots. The worn leather stood out against the dark pants, but he could do nothing about that.
Fighting not to sink into too dark a mood, he walked over to the windows to get a good view of the shadowed twilight. The gardens lay below. Had he just talked with his mother out there this morning? How did things change so quickly in the space of a day? It was enough to destroy anyone’s delusions of control over their lives.
Jace remained at the window as the darkness grew, until it was time to go down. He turned for his door and paused to brace himself, but could not shed the growing doom that settled around him. Rothas and James had had all afternoon to scheme. Would they pounce on him during dinner, or would they let him sweat for a while? He loathed the waiting. He’d rather just face them now, head-on. But this was no physical battle he could fight. These mind games were a form of battle he had no skill in.
Resignation hardened inside him, and he stepped into the hall. Just down from him, Anne’s door opened. She walked out, and Kyrin stood in the doorway. When they noticed him, Kyrin appeared to do a double take, her gaze making a quick sweep of his outfit. What was that reaction? Could it be… appreciation? He chided himself. Things were complicated enough already.
“Good,” Anne said, gaining both their attention, “we can go down together.” She turned to Kyrin, who stole another quick glance at Jace. “Are you all set?”
She nodded and drew a breath. Her gaze once again slid to Jace, and he marveled over how brave she was, taking on this mission. He wanted to say something before he had to go, but what had he not said already?
In a low, quiet voice, he told her, “I’m praying for you.”
Her eyes glowed with the comfort of those words. “I’m praying for you too.”
Trading brief smiles, they parted. Dinner was waiting, and it would do Jace no good to arrive late. However, halfway down the hall, he glanced back. Kyrin still stood in the doorway, and he experienced a sudden attack of powerlessness to protect her. His heartbeat grew shallow and faint. Elôm, please protect her tonight. Whatever she found in that office, he just wanted her safe. That was all that mattered.
The heaviness of concern pressed on him all the way downstairs. As they neared the dining room, Anne whispered, “Is there anything you want to ask before we go in?”
Jace had never attended a formal dinner in his life. Kyrin had given him some information on what to expect, but he had difficulty remembering it now.
“No.” Nothing Anne could tell him in these last few moments would make much difference in the end. As long as Kyrin was safe at the end of the night, he didn’t even care what sort of impression he made at dinner.
His mother stood at the door waiting for him when they entered the dining room. With a smile, she looked him over. “Whatever the circumstances, you look very handsome tonight.”
“Thanks,” he murmured. He thought of Kyrin. Had she thought so too?
His mother led him around the table, indicating a chair to her right. In another minute, the rest of the family appeared, and everyone took their seats. At least Rothas and James had places at the far end of the table. It might be overly tempting to stab each other with their dinner knives if they were seated together.
The servants circled the table to serve the first course of the meal, and Charles talked casually about Brandell and local news. He even managed to get his father talking after a few attempts. Soon it was almost as if Jace were not present, which suited him just fine. He would have preferred it to stay that way, but surely Rothas wouldn’t let an opportunity ripe with the chance to humiliate him pass by. He could almost sense the man biding his time, working up to his moment.
Then came a lull in the conversation. The man’s icy eyes pinned on him, and Jace went rigid. Here it was.
“So, tell us, Jace, what have you been doing these past years?”
A coldblooded smirk crept across his face. Jace just sat for a moment. Since the man had likely been involved in stealing him away from his mother, he no doubt knew the answer already. In fact, the only one who probably didn’t know he had been a slave was James, and Jace had no desire to enlighten him.
Careful to keep his voice even, yet cool, he met Rothas’s piercing gaze. “I think you know what I was doing.”
Rothas didn’t back down. “Well, you’re clearly no slave now. How did you get free?” His eyes glinted dangerously, as if he had just discovered a weakness in Jace. “Are you a runaway?”
Don’t you wish? “No.” Had he been, Rothas could have had him arrested and shipped back to his master, solving all his su
pposed problems.
The man appeared only marginally disappointed. “How then?”
Jace continued to hold his gaze, determined to prove he wasn’t intimidated. “A friend bought my freedom.”
Rothas barely nodded and finally took a bite of his food, certainly plotting his next course of action. Turned out he had James to do some of the work for him.
“How much did he pay?”
Jace’s attention switched to his half-brother. The worm was just begging for a beating. “Everything he had.”
James imitated his father’s loathsome smirk. “He must have been awfully poor.”
Elanor gave their brother a scolding look. “James, don’t be so horrid.”
But James just smiled insolently. Jace glared long and hard at him. Little did his brother know that, had Jace fought the way his master wanted, he would have been worth a fortune. He didn’t lift his intense gaze until James grew visibly uncomfortable and looked away. Now Jace allowed the smallest hint of a smirk.
Rothas, however, was not about to let him gain any ground, though this time his words weren’t aimed directly at Jace.
“Lady Anne, were you aware you had a half-ryrik in your security detail?”
Of course, it was only a matter of time before he attacked Jace’s bloodline. Jace looked over at Anne, sorry to see her dragged into this. Yet, Anne wasn’t a woman to be pitied or trifled with. She sat very straight, her eyes sparking.
“I was,” she responded primly, “but I don’t judge a man based on his blood. I judge him on his character and actions, whether or not he is honorable. Men of that quality seem to be increasingly rare these days.”
They traded a cool look at the implication of her words. Glancing around the table, Jace caught the not-quite hidden smile on Charles’s face and the look of admiration he sent Anne. Thanks to Jace’s family and Anne, the evening didn’t seem to be going quite the way Rothas planned it.
Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3) Page 13