Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4)

by Barbara Kloss

  I wrapped my hand around the little red vitality stone still clasped around my neck—the stone of promise Alex had given me. I knew I shouldn't have brought it with me, but when it'd been time to leave, I hadn't been able to part with it. It was all I had left of him, aside from these painful memories and the ache deep inside my chest. At least he was safe. At least I could help protect him now, and hopefully Stefan and Vera and Thaddeus and the rest of the world, too. And maybe, just maybe, I would eventually be able to convince my rebellious heart to agree.

  For a long moment, I lay there, tormented by these thoughts and feelings that had ravaged me through the night. I held the precious stone while staring up at the ceiling through my aching and swollen eyelids. My bedroom ceiling was far away, but it was paneled with a grid of stained mahogany that helped draw it closer. The woodwork was precise and perfect like a checkerboard, and the molding that lined the room's perimeter reached down and covered about two feet of my walls, making the entire ceiling look like a decorative wooden lid.

  Danton had apologized for the room last night…or was that really early this morning? Anyway, he thought this room was too small, and sure, it was smaller than my room at the castle, but as far as I was concerned, that was a good thing. My room at the castle was too big, as though it were constantly trying to put me in my place and remind me how small and insignificant I was. This room felt cozy with its heavy tapestries and large, mottled wall sconces that, even in the early morning hours, had given it plenty of warm light. There was a fireplace, a sturdy mahogany armoire and a few filled bookshelves. This room made me feel welcome, like an old friend, and I needed a friend right now. Especially since my conscience wasn't being one.

  However, according to Danton, the "preferred" guest-quarters for someone of my "station" was currently occupied by Lady Isla and her father. Danton had said he would have the arrangement switched immediately, but after a lot of pleading and a little bit of arguing, he finally gave in and let me keep this room for the time being. But as soon as it was deemed safe for Lady Isla and her father to return to Campagna, I would be switching rooms, and, apparently, at that point, there would be no arguing the subject.

  Sighing, I sat up in my bed and rubbed my temples. My head pounded and my eyes felt like cotton balls. Today would be an important day, because today Danton was going to take me to his father, Lord Commodus Pontefract, to discuss a treaty between Orindor and Valdon. I wondered if Danton was talking with him now, informing him that I'd come in the middle of the night to accept the proposal, and then I wondered what Lord Pontefract would think. I'd never trusted the man, but Danton had promised to follow through with their end of the bargain, and that bargain had better start today. It would take at least a few days to prepare their men for battle, and then who knew how long for them to march to the castle walls. Just thinking of Stefan up against all those shadowguard made my temples wrench. If only I'd accepted Danton's proposal sooner…

  No, I couldn't sit here regretting the past. I was here now, and I needed to focus my energy on moving forward and use my new position to make a difference.

  Traitor.

  You know, Conscience, the day you actually take my side, I'm going to be worried.

  Well, that would require you making a good decision for once, and since I don't see that happening any time soon…

  I grunted, then slid my legs out from the red satin sheets and set my heels on the soft runner beside my bed. Danton had spared me the tour of the Pontefract estate last night, being that it'd been so late and I'd been so exhausted (and on the verge of collapsing into a heap of sobs), but even then I'd seen enough to know Orindor flaunted its patriotic reds and blacks everywhere it could—even in my bedroom. All the fabric was colored a rich merlot—some of which was embroidered with black threads. Even my nightgown was red. It was as if Orindor refused to acknowledge any other colors, or maybe that was just Lord Commodus Pontefract.

  I stood and stretched, then crossed the wooden floor to my window. Heavy, theater-like draperies (also red) spanned the wall-sized pane of leaded glass, save the small column I'd left open last night in hopes that natural light would wake me at sunrise. Of course the sky would be dark with clouds, so the sun hadn't been able to do its job very well. I stared outside at the hedge garden below as my breath fogged a diamond-shaped pane of glass. It was chilly here beside the window, and a little drafty. I'd left my black robe draped over the chair beside my bed, but I didn't feel like putting it on. I liked feeling the cold, because it reminded me that I could still feel—that my heart hadn't withered into a dry husk. At least not yet.

  The ache inside of me squeezed, and my lungs suddenly felt too big for my ribcage. Alex was too close, hovering at the fringe of every thought, and I knew I'd have to get this under control if I was to face Lord Pontefract and have any sway. I trailed my finger along the lead, my heart feeling as heavy as a brick. Alex had understood—I knew that. He'd always understood, well before I'd been willing to accept it myself, but that didn't make this any easier.

  I hadn't been able to look back at him that night, because if I'd looked back, I never would've kept going. And he didn't come after me. Not then, not even when I met the others back in the hall and Master Durus had placed his amulet around my neck. Alex hadn't come to see me off. I knew we'd already said our goodbyes, and I knew he couldn't bear to watch me leave, and I was glad he hadn't come, but...there was a part of me that had wanted him to be there. There was a part of me—against all reason—that wished he'd tried to stop me. There was a part of me that wished he'd fought for me instead of letting me go, and that part broke my heart a little.

  The garden blurred and my eyes burned, and there was a soft rapping on my bedroom door. I quickly wiped my eyes, snatched the robe from its chair, and threw it on as I cleared my throat and said, "Come in."

  The latch clicked, the handle turned, and Anna, the young servant from last night, poked her head in.

  "Good morning, your highness. I brought breakfast for you," she said. She had a light and sweet voice that didn't have a care in the world. I envied her for it. "May I bring it in?"

  "Sure. Thank you, Anna." My throat felt raw.

  She smiled at me, seeming pleased I remembered her name, and then she vanished, though only for a second. The door opened wider as she pushed it in with her elbows, carrying a large silver tray in both hands. She breezed into the room, light on her toes, and set the tray down on the table at the foot of my bed. She flipped over a red ceramic teacup and set it down on its matching red plate with a clank, and then she lifted the teapot and poured steaming hot liquid into the cup. She set the teapot back down, arranged a few other items and turned around to face me.

  "I wasn't sure what you preferred," she said in that sweet voice, "so I brought you a little bit of everything. If there is something else you would like, please let me know, your highness, and I would be happy to get it for you. Lord Danton has made it perfectly clear you are to be made as comfortable as possible. This is your home now."

  My home.

  I swallowed to choke down the sob threatening to spill out again. I was surprised I had any tears left after last night. "Thank you, Anna. I'll eat what I can—" I glanced down at the full tray. "I think you've brought me enough food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

  She smiled, gazing at me with honey-colored eyes. She couldn't have been much older than I was, but there was a lightness to her that reminded me of me…before. I didn't have that lightness anymore. "Lord Danton also wanted me to let you know he will fetch you as soon as he's finished speaking with Lord Pontefract. It may be a while yet, so feel free to make yourself comfortable and wander about wherever you like. He said he'd find you."

  I nodded. So he was in a meeting with his father. I wondered how that was going.

  "And there's this…" Anna pulled something from a pocket in her skirts and set it on the tray, upright and leaning against the ceramic teapot. It was an envelope with my name scratched ostentatiou
sly across the front, in a lady's hand. "From Lady Isla."

  "Lady Isla?" The surprise in my voice was clear.

  Anna pressed down the folds of her skirts. "Yes, she asked for you earlier this morning, and then later found me and requested I deliver this note to you."

  I already didn't trust it. The last note I'd received from Isla had been a forgery, and I'd ended up in a pile of fire ant infested hay. This one might just bite on impact.

  "May I help you dress, then?" Anna asked.

  I shook my head. "No, I'll do it." And when she looked a little offended, I elaborated. "I like dressing myself. It's one of the few habits I've kept from my life back on Earth."

  She nodded slowly, eyeing me as if my dressing myself was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. "Until your gowns are tailor-made, you may choose whatever you like out of the wardrobe. Lord Danton has a cousin about your size who stays in this room when she visits every year with her mother and father, and I'm certain you'll be able to find something suitable that will fit. If not, please let me know immediately so I may find something else."

  "Oh, that's really nice of you but I can just wear—" I looked around for my skirt and blouse and realized they were missing.

  "I took the liberty of having them washed, your highness," Anna said. Though by the look on her face, it almost seemed as if she didn't approve of those clothes—washed or no.

  "Then I'll find something in the wardrobe," I said.

  She clasped her hands before her and glanced at the fireplace. "Did you…would you like me to start a fire for you?"

  "Yes, please." I feinted relief. Before I'd come to Orindor, I'd made a conscious decision to pretend I still didn't have magic. I didn't know what Orindor had heard of my recent actions in Pendel, but considering Pendel's distance from Orindor, I figured the news was still far behind me, and by Anna's delicate hesitation, my suspicions were confirmed. I didn't want Lord Pontefract knowing what I could do because if the time ever came when I needed to challenge him, I wanted the element of surprise on my side. Especially since I didn't have the proper training.

  Soft energy pulsed from Anna and light flared. It was only a spark, right in the kindling, but the kindling did its work and the flames quickly came alive. Only the gentry harbored great wells of powerful magic; the rest of the world was forced to be content with the small things. This, Sonya had told me once, and it had proven true over and over again. The world said the great lords were lords because they'd inherited their titles, but I'd come to believe they'd only stayed in power because there was no one else magically strong enough to conquer them. On Gaia, not all men are created equal. Powerful magic gave serious—and often very unfair—advantages.

  Once Anna was satisfied the fire was to her liking, she turned back to study me, paying particular attention to my eyes. Could she tell I'd been crying? She caught herself and glanced down, dropping into a curtsy. "I'll be down in the servants' quarters if you need anything else, your highness. Just pull the ribbon beside your bed." She smiled and left, and the door latched behind her.

  And I was alone again.

  I made my way over to the tray before my lonely thoughts could attack me again. Isla's note sat there glaring at me, and I couldn't help but wonder if she'd woven some curse into each curve of the letters to my name. I turned my attention away from the glaring letter and to the cup of…well, I wasn't sure what it was. It didn't smell like hot tea. It sort of smelled like that awful Pom Ale Stefan had given me once, back when I'd first arrived at the castle. Rhea would always change it to coffee for me.

  Rhea. Who knew she'd turn out to be Mistress Astaire Dothrai, powerful sorceress and Thad's mother? I'd always been impressed a servant knew enough magic to transform ale to coffee, but now I knew better. No wonder she didn't want me telling anyone. Like everyone else, she'd capitalized on my ignorance and gained my trust in the process.

  What I would give for a cup of hot coffee. Maybe when this was all over, I could start a Starbucks franchise on Gaia, and it would absolutely serve peppermint mochas year round.

  I took a sip and immediately spit it back out. It was that awful Pom Ale, but hot. What was it with these people and drinks that tasted like battery acid? I set the cup back down on its plate and poked around the assortment of cakes and breads and fruits and…something that looked like a bowl of (red) grits. I sat down in the chair and picked my way around the tray, taste-testing all of the items until I found a dense scone that tasted like heaven. There were little crimson (of course) berries in it that reminded me of cranberries, but these were sweeter, and the dough was soft and sticky and warm. So sticky, in fact, it was difficult peeling it off the roof of my mouth. I almost took a sip of the hot Pom Ale to wash it down, but I wasn't that desperate.

  I felt Isla's letter watching me out of the corner of my eye. With a grunt, I picked up the small envelope and stared at my name written across the front. Her handwriting was bold and pretentious, just like she was, and I didn't like the idea of her writing my name. It felt like sacrilege—as if my name had been defiled, somehow.

  "What could you possibly want from me this morning?" I said aloud, holding the envelope between my thumb and forefinger. I'd half a mind to chuck it in the fire, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I slid my finger beneath the red wax seal, pulled out the letter, and unfolded the single crease.

  Your Highness ~

  It was a wonderful surprise seeing you last night, if only for a few moments.

  Surprise? Yes. Wonderful? Someone should've handed you a mirror last night.

  It's unfortunate I haven't had the pleasure of your company more, for I would so like to get to know you better. I understand that his lordship is preoccupied for much of the day, so I thought to inquire if I might accompany you in his absence. I would be honored by your company and conversation, and for the opportunity to further acquaint myself with such an intriguing woman, let alone my regent and superior.

  I snorted.

  If you find you do have a few precious moments to spare within your exceedingly busy schedule, I'll be in the drawing room for the next few hours where you may find me.

  I'd just as soon stab myself with a paintbrush.

  Your admiring and devoted servant,

  As always,

  Lady Isla Justine of Campagna

  I rolled my eyes and threw the paper at the fire, like I should've done in the first place. I was probably getting cursed this very moment. Could a person really be cursed from reading a letter? The fire popped and crackled while the paper charred and curled in on itself, until it finally disintegrated into ash. Had Danton told her yet? Not that it mattered, really. Any attention from her was dangerous.

  I pushed myself up from the chair. I needed to move so I could think. Anna had said Danton had been tied up with his father all morning. What could be taking so long? Maybe Lord Pontefract had changed his mind and no longer saw me as a tool to further his political standing. If that were true, the fact that Danton had been with him all morning could only mean he was arguing in my favor. Right?

  I rubbed my temples with a groan. I needed to be there with Danton and his father discussing how and when Orindor's soldiers would leave. We were at war, but it was the waiting that just might kill me.

  "Please, Stefan, just hang on a little longer…" I said.

  I couldn't stay in my room. At this rate, I'd wear a path in the rug I was pacing. I stopped pacing. Visiting Isla was out of the question. My thoughts were torment enough without her words of bottled poison. No doubt she'd only want to find leverage to use against me later.

  I marched over to the wardrobe and opened the doors. It was huge and deep and filled with so many fabrics I couldn't even see the back panel. It reminded me of the Chronicles of Narnia, and since I was already in some twisted version of Narnia, I wondered if I could walk through the back of this wardrobe and end up on Earth. And then I remembered I had nothing on Earth to go back to, save Cadence. Assuming he was still there. I ran
my fingertips over the various textures of fabric until I came across a pair of pants and a blouse, meant for riding. There was even a pair of burgundy leather riding boots standing on the floor of the wardrobe.

  Perfect.

  Within a few minutes, I'd replaced my nightgown with the riding ensemble and strapped my dagger just inside my boot. Danton's cousin must have been a little taller than me, and much curvier, but these would work. I walked to my bathroom and splashed some water across my face. My eyes were still puffy, but hopefully that would fade before Danton found me. I tamed my unruly hair into one long braid and snagged a cloak from inside the wardrobe—just in case, because I had no idea where I would be wandering off to—then took one quick glance about my room and stepped out into the hall.

  The hallway was brighter than it had been last night, and busier. A servant smiled as he hurried past with a tray of used dishes.

  "Good morning, your highness," he said with a slight bow of his head.

  Had Danton already alerted his entire staff I was here? I smiled. "Good morning."

  He hurried off around the corner just as another servant appeared. This one had a beaded silver gown draped over one arm.

  "Morning, your highness." She smiled.

  Okay, maybe he had told everyone. I decided this was a good sign, especially since the servants were smiling. I wasn't sure where I should go, though. Danton had spared me the midnight tour and led me straight from the garden to my room last night. Fresh air sounded nice, even though the view from my window warned it would rain any minute. I almost decided to chance it, but my feet seemed to have other ideas and led me in the opposite direction. Danton had promised me a tour this morning, but being that he was preoccupied, I'd give myself one. And besides: Anna had made it sound as if I could go anywhere I pleased. I thought this a good opportunity to study the home of my future spouse and in-laws. Who knew what I might find out about the Pontefracts in the process?