The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy)

by Caprice Hokstad

  It may have been his imagination, but she seemed to savor her words. It grieved him to request she change her speech for Saerula. At least it would only be temporary. One way or another Keedrina would be his and that knowledge gave him distinct delight. He quickly found his way out the door. There was much to be done before tea.

  Vahn bounded into the dungeon and announced, “Sorry, ladies, but I have to cut the holiday short.” They scrambled for a military line, but they also smiled and nodded at his news. “I’m so glad you don’t mind. I need help with the cooking and the chores. Besides, I may need the dungeon for real punishment.”

  He gave them no time to contemplate his cryptic statement. “I want to serve tea in an hour. Everyone go clean up as quickly as possible. Leave the dishes and other chores. The duchess and I are having a guest and I want tea set for the three of us in the parlor. I know it is short notice, but with all of you working together, I have every confidence you can do it. Any questions?”

  “No, Master,” came the unanimous response from the line now formed.

  Vahn nearly bubbled over with pride. That’s my house. He left the door open and tried to etch the memory of the Itzi, both the ones he owned and the one coming to tea, into his mind. He would need their positive images to counter the unpleasant task ahead. From the dungeon, he headed to timna’s quarters.

  Knocking was a courtesy afforded slaves who had earned trust and respect. timna had earned such things once, yet had not only squandered them, but thrown them ungratefully into his face. Though he entered without knocking, he did so slowly.

  Vahn found his optimess on her knees with her face buried in her arms atop the bed. She sobbed softly, but attempted to dry up as he entered. She folded into Submissive.

  “Abject, timna,” Vahn ordered. His voice was barely above a whisper, but held an unmistakable edge of displeasure. Contempt, bitterness, and disappointment were all obvious in his stern tone. timna changed her position immediately, unfolding her body and spreading it across the floor until she was prostrate. Vahn made a silent resolution that he would deal more harshly if she dared beg for mercy before he gave her permission to speak. Three minutes passed in silence.

  “timna, you have dishonored both your master and your house. You acted against my interests in word and deed, harming a freewoman and very likely scarring her for life. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “timna has no excuse for her actions. She was wrong and fully deserves any punishment you see fit. Do with timna as you will,” she said, barely holding back her sobs.

  “Exactly what I wanted to hear, timna. Standard Kneel, please.”

  She complied. Vahn took another short look over her before speaking again. Much of the bitterness was absent, but it was not his most soothing tone either. “Lady Keedrina offered to become a Permanent Slave on your behalf. She would accept my bands and the ‘P’ on her forearm in exchange for your freedom.”

  timna gasped and her eyes grew wide. “Permanent?”

  “Yes, Permanent. She admitted she originally planned Freewill, but to spare you punishment and deliver you from a condition you hate enough to try to dissuade her from, she offered herself under the grimmest possible circumstances. Why she would do such a thing after the way you treated her is a mystery to me, but her selflessness demands I at least discuss it with you.”

  She bowed her head and murmured, “timna does not deserve that, Master Vahn.”

  “I tend to agree, but I find it hard to refuse her. I am quite fond of her and she would be a huge asset to my house.”

  “But what of her vow?”

  “She didn’t mention any vow to me. Perhaps she is willing to break a vow for you. I will question her, but I cannot force her to honor a vow made solely in her mind. If there are no witnesses or contracts, then it is up to her. Right now, I need to know your feelings. You obviously despised my house enough to dissuade a poor orphan from joining...”

  “Master Vahn,” timna whimpered, “you have been more than fair to timna. It was not your house that timna was trying to keep Lady Keedrina from, but slavery. She has other options. She doesn’t know what it is truly like.”

  Vahn frowned and hardened his voice, though he controlled his volume tightly. “What is it truly like, timna? What is so awful about your existence that you found it necessary to torture a freewoman far worse than you have ever been punished?”

  “timna did not intend to cause her injury, Master. Please believe timna,” she sobbed.

  “Actually, I believe that, but only because Lady Keedrina told me first. That still doesn’t get us to the heart of the matter. Is this about the crop? I already took care of that. The duchess will not touch you again. Did you not trust me?”

  She shook her head. “No. timna did not fully trust you, Master. But it is more than that. It is the training at the ITC, the way they strip a person of will and spirit. There is no way you could understand without being there. Nevertheless, timna was wrong.”

  Vahn listened, studying her face. Several silent moments passed. He withdrew his probing gaze and stared across the room, focusing beyond the walls of her tiny chamber. “timna, do you want your freedom?”

  “Yes, Master Vahn.” She stared at the number on her forearm. “timna wants it very much, but Lady Keedrina cannot know what she is offering.”

  “What did you tell her I would do to you?”

  “timna did not tell her you would do anything. Lady Keedrina would have kept it secret for timna’s sake.”

  “I would agree there,” Vahn said. Another uncomfortable silence passed. “timna, I am not going to tell Lady Keedrina no. I will leave the choice to you. However, I will tell you right now what your punishment will be if you do not choose Lady Keedrina’s offer. I have lost the level of trust I had in you, therefore, if you complete your term, you will wear Ringed bands like all the rest of the house. Furthermore, since optimess is a position of leadership and honor, as of right now, you are no longer optimess. Beyond that, if Lady Keedrina will vouch that four hours with wrists bound behind her back was not cruel, then I will bind yours likewise. No baling twine, just Ringed bands. Someone will keep an eye on you to be sure your skin is not cut. If it is by accident, I will have salve applied to prevent scarring. Though scars are deserved, I will not scar you on purpose. Is the choice clear to you?”

  “Yes, Master Vahn,” timna whispered sadly.

  “Lady Keedrina is joining the duchess and me for tea in little under an hour. After tea, I will summon you. You have until then to decide. You will face Lady Keedrina, make your choice in her presence, and satisfy her fully. Understood?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good,” he muttered, then swiftly vacated. He shut the door behind him—not loudly enough to be classified a slam, but not softly enough to be mistaken for respect either.

  He left his discontent at timna’s door and hurried into the kitchen. Two slaves were already bathed, freshly dressed, and busy with preparations. While the women saw to the cooking, Vahn chose the china, silver, and serving vessels he wished them to use. When six Itzi were working and he was only in the way, he left to find Saerula.

  The duchess was brooding in her expansive sitting room on the second floor. An ebony harp inlaid in silver and encrusted with onyx and hematite sat idle in the corner. Stacks of books were untouched from where Vahn had set them after hauling them up from the library. A bowl of fruit was as full as it had been a day earlier. Her pregnant form lazed on the padded velvet chaise. Though she saw him enter, she didn’t bother to greet him.

  “Good day, my love. How are we doing today?” He crouched to rub her tummy.

  She pushed his hand away. “Oh stop it, Vahn. I don’t need cheering up, and I don’t need another smarmy lecture on how I should ‘appreciate’ those foul little Itzi slaves.”

  Vahn furrowed his brows. “Well, then I suppose you won’t want any of the tea they are preparing for you right this very moment. Never mind. I’ll tell them yo
u’re not interested.”

  “Wait! They’re preparing tea for us?”

  “Yes, us and a guest—Lady Keedrina.”

  Saerula sat upright so fast that Vahn blinked. She motioned for her house shoes, forgetting Vahn was the duke and not a servant. Seeing there would have been no way his wife could have maneuvered her enormous belly to retrieve them herself, Vahn said nothing and slipped them silently onto her feet. He pressed a kiss to her instep before rising and extending his hand to her. “To the parlor, milady?”

  “By way of the inhouse,” she grumbled. This stage of pregnancy had her visiting the watercloset all too frequently.

  “Of course, my love.” He did so pity her with her “ailment”. He escorted her to the master chambers and waited in the hallway. She emerged with her hair brushed and smelling of freshly applied perfume. He extended his hand in a formal pose and she draped her hand over his.

  In movement akin to an elaborate ballroom dance, the two descended the stairs. The slaves who flitted about saw nothing out of place with their owners’ stately manner of entrance. Once they reached the parlor, Vahn seated his wife, then whispered to xassa to fetch Keedrina from the guest cottage.

  Chapter 27

  Keedrina felt strange to be in the guest cottage again. The déjà vu was distant, as if it were months ago that she had been here, not merely days. She emptied her pocket, piling the coins and the deed on a dresser. She removed her mother’s compacting necklace and discarded the broken thong. After a whisper of a kiss, she set the scrimshaw pendant atop the deed. Quickly, she pulled off her clothes and set them in the giant basin in the inhouse.

  Blood spotted the back of her tunic where her wrists had brushed against the canvas and her fall in the henhouse had dirtied the front. Although her search for a washboard was fruitless, she wouldn’t give up the opportunity to wash her clothes. She didn’t know when she might have another chance. She did a fair job with the soap provided, rubbing the coarse cloth against itself. Keedrina gave herself a thorough sponge bath next.

  The drawers and closets held so much finery that it was difficult to choose. She didn’t want anything pretentious. A sapphire blue dress trimmed with white lace caught her attention. It looked as if it belonged to a lady-in-waiting. The lines were simple—an empire waist, a long, full skirt, and high neckline. The fabric was tightly woven, but not an expensive silk or velvet. Keedrina wasn’t even sure what it was. Close-fitting sleeves ended in loops that fit over her middle fingers. No one would see her wrists.

  The dress was a perfect fit except in length. An Elva woman of average height would be taller than the tall-for-her-breed Itzi. Keedrina looked everywhere for a needle and thread to remedy the problem, but found none. Since her brogans were unsuitable, she’d intended to go barefoot. Now it was clear she’d have to wear shoes to keep the dress from dragging. Among a huge array of choices, she found shoes an inch and a half at the heel, perfect for allowing the hem to brush the floor just slightly.

  Keedrina sat at the vanity and unpinned her braided coils. Long, dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She spent fifteen minutes brushing tangles from disjointed, sectioned hair. When she finished, the natural oils were distributed, leaving waves of shining silk.

  She’d never worn it down in public before, at least not without a headcloth. She would never have dared to if Duke Vahn hadn’t suggested it. With her hair down and in such a fine dress, she hardly recognized herself in the polished silver looking-panel. She could pass for Elva nobility of eighteen. The gown brought out her blue eyes like nothing she had ever worn. She hoped the duke would approve.

  After hanging her wet clothes on a tree branch in the suns’ light, Keedrina returned to the guest cottage to practice walking. She wasn’t awkward in the high heels, but neither was she comfortable or natural. As long as she concentrated, she would be all right, she hoped. It’s just tea, not a grand ball, she reminded herself. Twelve laps around the sofa later, she heard a knock.

  “Come in,” she called.

  The door opened to reveal a red-headed girl of fourteen, dressed the same as timna, but wearing steel Ringed bands like moxi’s. The diminutive girl knelt and bowed her head at the door. “Master Vahn sent xassa to fetch you for tea, milady.”

  Keedrina took her hand and lifted her up from the floor. She decided to use first person just in case the girl might say something to the duchess. “Thank you, xassa. I am just Keedrina, for now. Please don’t kneel for me. I’m nobody special.” She nearly asked her to refrain from the “milady” address as well, but it fit the persona that the duke had asked her to portray for the duchess. xassa nodded and the two headed toward Rebono Keep.

  The farmgirl was not prepared for the splendor of the duke’s residence. The guest cottage was a shanty in comparison. Double ebony doors with silver handles and a silver knocker stood at the entrance. xassa held the door open for her. Inside was a large foyer tiled in polished black onyx. She could see the reflections of xassa’s feet within the deep shine of the floor. Though the walls were stone, many were covered by tapestries or silver velvet arras. Sconces held oil lamps, but at this hour, abundant suns’ light streamed through perfectly smooth windows and a stained-glass dome overhead.

  Though Keedrina longed to explore the wonders of the keep, she followed xassa to the parlor, struggling to keep from gawking. Black linen covered a circular table. Three silver satin placemats lined up with the velvet-padded cherrywood chairs. Atop the placemats were onyx plates trimmed in silver, linen napkins to match the tablecloth and so many shiny silver utensils that Keedrina wondered what they could possibly all be for. Silver-rimmed onyx teacups and saucers completed each setting. The center of the table held two silver candelabra and a crystal vase filled with flowers.

  Duke Vahn stood as Keedrina entered. He smiled and winked at her. She interpreted that as approval of her dress choice and allowed herself a smile back. She curtsied to the duke and duchess, holding the flare of her skirt out and bowing her head.

  The duke spoke first. “Duchess Saerula, this is Lady Keedrina.”

  The duchess scrutinized her with a single arched brow. “Hello, Lady Keedrina.” Something about her greeting seemed amiss to the farmgirl, but perhaps it was the Ganlucan accent.

  “An honor to meet you, your highness,” Keedrina said with all the respect she would use to call her “Mistress”. She turned to the duke. “And thank you, Duke Vahn, for the invitation.” She wished she knew what else to say. The ways of the nobility were foreign to her and she decided not to fake it. Surely they wouldn’t want a potential slave to put on airs.

  “The pleasure is ours to have such an enchanting guest. Please, come sit.” He moved toward the empty chair to pull it out for her. His glance sent a slave hurrying to bring the food.

  Keedrina was sure she would trip on the heeled shoes. Please, please don’t make a fool of yourself. She took her seat, then arranged her skirt. Fancy clothes were too unfamiliar to feel if anything was out of place, but she didn’t want to keep checking her bodice either. She inhaled deeply and commanded her hands to cease their sweating and trembling by clasping them firmly in her lap.

  Duke Vahn eased into his chair just as an Itzi in her twenties arrived with a silver tea set. Keedrina wanted to applaud the shining vessels and gracious service, but the duchess seemed to ignore the slave so completely that Keedrina thought it might be bad manners to draw attention to it. She fretted again over her lack of knowledge. If she committed some huge faux pas at the table, would the duke throw her out? What would happen to timna then?

  “Keedrina, Keedrina, Keedrina,” the duchess muttered as if testing the name against her memory. “I don’t believe I’ve met a Lord Keedrina. Is your family new to Ny?”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of family. This was hard enough without thinking about them. Furthermore, the duchess had assumed Keedrina was a surname. Only Elva had surnames. The duke had asked her to wear her hair over her ears; he m
ust not want her to reveal her breed, but she couldn’t lie either.

  “She has no family here, Saerula,” the duke answered for her.

  Keedrina nodded. Though grateful that he’d solved the dilemma, his words echoed in her mind—no family here. Grief and loneliness threatened to overtake her, but she couldn’t allow that right now. She tried to concentrate on her surroundings.

  The slave poured three cups of tea, then took a sip from each cup. Keedrina assumed at first it was to be sure it wasn’t too hot, but that would only need to be done once. She shrugged it off as another complicated tradition of royalty, probably without any present purpose. She wouldn’t proclaim her ignorance by asking.

  “No? Then where are you from?” the duchess asked.

  Keedrina had just lifted tea to her lips for a dainty sip. She gulped hot liquid down to keep from sputtering, burning her tongue in the process. If the slave had been testing the heat, she’d been remiss in not warning them that it was scalding. Had her hosts heard the gulp? She felt her face warm as she looked up. The duchess stared straight through her. Nymphs! Why did she accept this invitation? She looked at the duke with pleading eyes. He merely nodded. She was on her own. “Just south of Ny, your highness.”

  When another slave brought food to the table, she knelt and waited. The duke gave her a bite of the food before she got up. Six silver trays bedecked the table before all the slaves left the room. Keedrina wanted to watch them more closely, but with the duchess keeping a probing gaze locked on her, she didn’t dare.

  Duchess Saerula frowned and furrowed her brow, then gave Keedrina a tight shake of her head. “Yes, of course, but the name of your family’s holding...?”

  “It’s all been sold, Saerula. Perhaps Lady Keedrina would like to hear about that new gown you’re having made,” the duke suggested.

  Keedrina breathed a sigh of relief. The duchess followed her husband’s suggestion and described the maternity gown she’d just commissioned. Finally able to eat, Keedrina studied the duke’s and duchess’ manners and did her best to mimic them. She ate a finger sandwich and a small tart, though everything looked delicious. Never had she seen such an array of food or so many silver platters and utensils. She held her awe in check and concentrated on conversation. The duchess segued from her new gown into pregnancy and its many accompanying woes. Keedrina nurtured her words with genuine concern and rapt attention. Everyone finished eating long before the duchess finished talking. Slaves removed everything but the cups, saucers, and tea set. Then Duke Vahn excused himself from the table.