He deposited an armful of rich fabrics on a couch. “These should last you a few days.”
Taryn sifted through the beautiful gowns, the desire to wear them causing an unfamiliar thrill. “What’s wrong with the clothes your father gave me at Ravenwood?”
“Those are fine for a country manor, but at Paderau, the dress is more formal.” Hayden picked out an emerald green gown for dinner and a pale blue dress for her to wear until then. “I like your hair up. It suits your face.”
His compliment caught her off guard. “Lorilee and Mayla work miracles.” She paused. “Why do I have to change for dinner? Can’t I just wear one dress all day?”
Hayden’s glare could cut stone. “Ohlin’s beard, no. Day clothes aren’t suitable for dinner.”
“I’m not sure this is suitable to be worn out of the bedroom.” Taryn fingered the blue gown. Little more than rich silk draped to the floor; bits of lace accented the bodice and sleeves. Pearls dotted the empire waistband.
“You say the most curious things. I’ll leave you to dress, but don’t take long. There are some people I’d like you to meet.”
She hesitated a moment before calling after him. “Hayden?” When he turned back to her, she blushed. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”
“You saved my life. I will forever be in your debt.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Of course not. If I may be so bold, I consider you a friend and hope you might see me as such, as well.”
“I couldn’t think of a better friend in all the world.” She held him tighter than she’d meant. His arms wrapped around her, hesitantly at first, and she sank into him. Raw emotions—gratitude, relief, loneliness—swept over her. She took a step back, wiping a tear from her eye. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.” She swiped at her tears with the handkerchief he handed her. “About that whole lifesaving thing—do you think we could keep it between us?” She waved a hand around the room. “This is more than I can take right now, and having people think I’m some sort of hero would be way too much.”
“Of course. I’ll respect your wishes.”
“Can you make sure the others don’t say anything? It might be too late, but we can ask.”
“Done. Now, if you’ve no other requests, I’ll wait in the sitting room.” He closed the door behind him, and she changed into the dress, feeling exposed beneath the soft fabric. She took a deep breath before joining Hayden in the other room.
“You are a dream, Taryn.”
She curtseyed as he’d taught her. “Thank you, Hayden. I mean, Lord Valen.”
“Very good. You remembered.” He held his arm out to her. “Are you ready?”
“No, but let’s go anyway.” Remembering a title was one thing, recalling everything else he taught her was something else entirely.
Chapter Fourteen
The princesses gathered in the garden room of Paderau Palace, as they always did when visiting the duke. A meeting place of sorts, guests could linger over tea to hear the latest court gossip or play games, if that was their inclination. Marissa sat with her sisters but only half listened to what they said. Her attention was drawn to Duke Anje’s son, looking very much alive, and the girl who stood nervously beside him.
An unpleasant tremble ran through her as the couple approached. Like pins and needles from a sleepy limb, her nerves twitched, unbalancing her carefully constructed composure. The bewildered feeling was unnatural for Marissa, and she pulled her power around her like a cloak, keeping her face calm, her senses alert.
Hayden bowed low to them. “Your Highnesses, I would like you to meet a dear friend of mine. Taryn, these are the Princesses Marissa, Eliahnna, and Tessa, all daughters of Empress Lliandra.” He faltered a bit when he came to the dark haired beauty who sat slightly apart from Marissa and her sisters. “I’m afraid we haven’t formally met, but you must be Princess Sabina.” He turned to Taryn to explain. “She is visiting from the Summerlands.”
Sabina held out her hand to Hayden, a demure smile teasing her delightful lips. “It is my pleasure, Lord Valen. The princesses have told me stories about you, and I must confess I was rather looking forward to our meeting.” Her lush lashes beat once, twice and then rested prettily on her cheek a moment before fluttering open.
Hayden’s lips pressed against her skin, and Marissa looked away, only to meet the curious stare of Taryn. She inclined her head in greeting.
Taryn executed a perfect curtsey. “I’m honored to make your acquaintances.”
Marissa couldn’t place Taryn’s accent, but it sounded rough, unrefined like an Offlander. “Where are you from, child?” Marissa asked when it became clear the girl wouldn’t speak unless spoken to.
Taryn’s shoulder twitched with a suppressed shrug. “No one location. My grandfather and I traveled from place to place most of my life.”
Hayden indicated they should sit, and Taryn took a seat, her back straight, palms pressed against her knees. She was nervous, that was certain. When a servant brought her tea and cakes, Taryn gave him a grateful smile. Her hand trembled when she lifted the cup to her lips.
Faint inscriptions circled Taryn’s wrist. A tug from deep inside pained Marissa, as often happened when something one longed for is lost for all eternity. Earlier, she noticed Rhoane wore similar marks on his hand, which could only mean one thing. The Eirielle had returned.
Since Taryn’s birth, Marissa had dreaded this day. Her Mari flared for an instant, and Taryn looked at her with doe eyes filled with something akin to recognition.
Tessa pelted Taryn with questions, only pausing long enough to let her give a quick response. She was unfailingly polite, if a little stiff in her replies. Her easy manner charmed the younger princesses, nonetheless. Twice, Marissa tried to enter her mind, but the girl had it sealed shut. What Marissa couldn’t determine was whether Taryn knew who she was and toyed with them or if she was truly ignorant. Pretending to be what you were not was a game Marissa excelled at and, as she studied her, she gauged how skilled Taryn might be, as well.
“I’ve heard your palace is quite remarkable. Is it really made of crystal as everyone says?” Taryn asked Tessa with a guilelessness Marissa found insulting.
Only an Offlander would be dense enough to ask such a tactless question. Perhaps her innocence was genuine, and if so, it would make Marissa’s objectives that much easier to obtain.
“Not really,” Tessa explained, “but Mother likes to tell everyone it is. They call it the Crystal Palace because of the rock it’s made from. When the sun hits it, it shines like polished diamonds. There are whole walls made of rock so clear you can see through them, but unlike glass, it is impenetrable. Even to ShantiMari. Perhaps someday you can visit and I’ll show you.”
“I would like that very much, but I’m afraid I don’t know where my travels will take me next.” She looked at Hayden, who shrugged in answer. “I suppose I could ask Faelara.”
Tessa nodded enthusiastically, sending her fair curls bouncing and bobbing around her head, fighting against the pins meant to keep them in place. “Please, do.”
“Have you met many princesses on your travels?” Eliahnna asked in her quiet voice. “I am ever so keen to learn about the other kingdoms. Princess Sabina has been very kind to help me with the Summerlands. She’s been telling me about a sea king whose citizens are merfolk. Have you ever met a mermaid?”
“I’m afraid not. The closest I’ve ever come is reading a story about a mermaid named Ariel,” Taryn offered.
“The Eirielle is not a mermaid,” Sabina protested. “That’s just a tale mothers use to frighten their children into good behavior.”
Marissa enjoyed the heat coming from the Summerlands princess. Like Eliahnna, it was rare to see her angry or upset. Tessa’s outward show of discomfort at Taryn’s statement, followed by Sabina’s angry retort, genuinely confused Taryn.
“I’m so sorry. I, uh, it was a fairy tale.” Again, her hands trembled slight
ly.
Marissa sipped her tea with quiet contemplation. If Taryn was playing them, she gave a skilled performance. The game became immensely more interesting with the dawning understanding Taryn knew nothing about herself or the others. Marissa traced a fingertip around the rim of her cup, wondering idly what her mother would think of the pretty girl. Moreover, what would Taryn think when she found out her companions were her sisters?
A shadow teased the edge of Marissa’s vision, and she turned to see the disgusting little weasel, Lord Herbret, standing to the side of the group. He cleared his throat, pulling their attention to him. Lady Celia followed a step behind, a smirk on her lovely face. Marissa studied the pair, not at all liking the thoughts that scampered through her mind. There would be time for questions later, when she had Celia alone in her rooms.
“Herbret, don’t be droll. This isn’t the Crystal Palace. You don’t need an official invitation to join our group.” Marissa gave him her most beguiling smile, the one she knew made his cock jump and his knees weaken. As expected, he shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the front of his trousers as he took a seat opposite Sabina.
Introductions were made, with Herbret lingering overlong on Taryn’s fingertips. The girl vibrated with suppressed anxiety, which further intrigued Marissa. She was a puzzle, for certes. Unsure of herself, and yet carrying a confidence Marissa admired.
An unbidden memory seared her thoughts, yanking Marissa back to the storm-ravaged night Taryn was born. The stench of death, the bright light when Nadra placed the baby’s hand on the sword, were as real to her now as they’d been thirty-five seasons earlier. She could hear the sound of Lliandra’s sobs for the exiled princess and the dead prince. Tears Lliandra did not share with Valterys the next day when she had so callously told him his son was dead, never mentioning another child.
Hidden in the shadows, no one saw Marissa that night. By the time everyone in the room had been compelled to forget about the princess, she was already beyond the reach of Nadra’s command. After that night, Marissa made it her priority to discover what was special about the child. She read every prophecy or tale of the Eirielle her mother’s library held. It didn’t take long for her to deduce why her mother was frightened of the child—enough so to send her away. Then, terrified enough upon her return to order her death.
Hayden stood, jerking Marissa from the past. Making his apologies, he excused himself from the group, but not before a long glance at Sabina.
“Well, that was rude,” Celia quipped to Hayden’s retreating back.
While she was reliving the past, Marissa had obviously missed something important. She fixed her thoughts firmly on the present. “Hayden? I don’t think he knows how to be rude. Something must’ve upset him,” Marissa offered, hoping her comment hit the mark.
Herbret leaned closer to Sabina and whispered words that made her go pale, which, considering her burnished complexion, was remarkable.
“Indeed,” Celia said, her gaze lingering on Herbret as he pawed Sabina’s gown, a dribble of spit making its way down his chin.
Marissa stifled a shudder. Once again she thanked the gods she could decide who her lovers would be and didn’t have to rely on the generosity of the court to appoint her a husband.
“Would anyone like to take a walk in the gardens?” Taryn asked and half rose before Celia interrupted her movement.
“Please, stay a bit longer. The sun is so harsh this time of day, I can’t possibly tolerate it.” When Taryn resumed her seat, Celia continued, saying in complete innocence, “It is my understanding you are here as a special guest of the duke. Might I inquire how it is you are acquainted?”
“The duke is an old friend of my grandfather’s.”
“And what House does your grandfather hail from?”
“House? I don’t understand.”
“All noble families have a House name,” Tessa explained. “Was your grandfather titled?”
Taryn glanced at Celia and then Marissa. Again, that look of recognition crossed her face. Marissa instinctively pulled her power close. “I’m not really sure.” Taryn said, “He never mentioned it if he was.”
“I’ve never known a nobleman to not associate with his House, so he must not have been titled,” Celia said knowingly.
Taryn shrugged. “Then I guess he wasn’t.” She glanced yet again at Marissa, a frown creasing her youthful brow. “Your eyes are lovely, Princess Marissa. Such an unusual color.”
“I take after my father in looks. His eyes were a deep aubergine. Mine are more lavender in shade, which is much more becoming, don’t you think?” She tossed her black curls over her shoulder and blinked to catch the light.
Taryn started to reply when Tessa interrupted them. “I heard you were attacked by a band of thieves on your way to Paderau and Prince Rhoane fought them all by himself.”
Marissa corrected her little sister. “It was a gypsy gang. And Myrddin was the one who held them off while the others made their escape.”
Taryn looked from one to the other, her eyes widening. “Rhoane is a prince?”
“An Eleri prince,” Tessa offered. “He’s so handsome! I told Mother that if I were older I should marry him, but she told me that he’s been betrothed since before anyone can remember.”
Marissa watched the interplay of emotions cross Taryn’s face. So, Rhoane hadn’t told her who he was… Curious.
“I didn’t know,” Taryn said in a small voice.
“I’ve heard Offlanders are ignorant of many things; I shouldn’t be surprised that court etiquette is among them,” Celia said in a cheerful voice.
“Lady Celia! Don’t be so horrid to our guest. If Prince Rhoane didn’t feel the need to tell her he’s royalty, he probably had a reason for it.” Eliahnna gave her older sister a scathing look before turning to Celia. “Apologize to Taryn.”
Eliahnna was right, of course, but Marissa couldn’t help the surge of delight Celia’s teasing brought.
Her friend gave a dramatic sigh. “I suppose that was ungracious of me. Won’t you please forgive me?”
Eliahnna would not back down. “Mother won’t take it well if I tell her you’ve been rude to Duke Anje’s personal guest. Taryn’s ignorance of court politics is not to be demeaned, but perhaps, gently reversed.”
Her sister rarely stood up to anyone. If Lliandra found out Celia had treated Taryn poorly, there would be serious repercussions.
Marissa nodded her agreement and said with an imperious tone, “You’re absolutely right. We’ve no reason to criticize your upbringing, Taryn. Not everyone is as fortunate as we are. I hope you don’t think we share Lady Celia’s opinion.”
“Of course not,” Taryn stammered, clearly unsure what had just happened. “It’s fine, really.”
Herbret snorted something about “ignorant Offlanders” then tried to cover it up with an obsequious display of gratitude toward Eliahnna. All the while, his hand reached closer and closer to Sabina. The Summerlands princess sat frozen in place, a look of terror etched on her beautiful features.
“Sabina,” Taryn said, standing so suddenly the others jumped in surprise. “You look like you don’t mind the sun. Won’t you please join me in the gardens? All this sitting makes me anxious to stretch my legs.”
Sabina sprang from her place on the couch, almost knocking over Herbret in the process. “I would love to. Thank you.”
Eliahnna cast a quick glance at Tessa before the two of them followed the older girls from the room. Left with just Herbret and Celia, Marissa let out a low chuckle. “Herbret, whatever did you say to poor Sabina? She was positively death struck.”
Herbret reclined into the chair, his paunch clearly visible beneath his waistcoat. “I simply mentioned some of the pleasures she and I would share once we are betrothed.”
“Did my mother give you permission?”
“Not yet. We’re still negotiating.” A sly smirk made him even less attractive. Beneath the smile were horrors Marissa doubted even she could bear.<
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“Until you have it in writing, you must be more discreet. The wrong word from one of my sisters,” silently, Marissa included Taryn in the list, “and you’ll find yourself without a bride.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.” His simpering annoyed Marissa. “Since when do you allow Offlander trash in your company?”
Taryn made a huge mistake by protecting Sabina from Herbret. He was not a man who forgave easily, and he never forgot a slight.
Marissa ignored him and stood. “I think I’ll take some fresh air before retiring to my rooms. Herbret, I’ll see you at dinner. Lady Celia?” She didn’t wait for a reply, knowing Celia would follow.
When certain no one of consequence could see, she slipped into an alcove with her lady. Her lips sought her friend’s with a hunger women rarely aroused in her.
“You are a gem, my sweet Celia. Come to my rooms tonight, and I will reward you further.” She pinched Celia’s breast before leaving the woman gasping in her absence.
Marissa hurried to her rooms, clearing her mind of Celia, focusing on what must be done. Whatever happened at Ravenwood, Valterys needed to know that Hayden lived and Taryn traveled with Myrddin. Sparks of her Mari shot from her fingertips as she cursed that fool Zakael and, to a lesser extent, herself. How Hayden had survived the poisoned sword, she couldn’t understand. No one should’ve been able to undo her spells.
The sword.
Marissa spun to her left, heading to the wing where Taryn was sure to be staying. It took a few inquiries, plus a touch of her Mari to compel the servants to forget they’d told her where to find Taryn’s quarters. It was in a part of the palace she remembered well. A delicious courtier had once stayed on the very same floor as Taryn. A thin smile broke across her face. She could traverse every secret passageway hidden behind the walls. If Taryn had the sword, she would find it.
The Stones of Resurrection Page 13