“There has been the gladdest of news!” she exclaimed.
“What is it?”
The man’s words echoed through my skull, and I could not shake a feeling of foreboding despite Sabine’s exuberance.
“They’ve changed the treaty between Neaux and Danhad. Princess Sarelle is engaged to marry my father’s younger brother, Prince Reynard. My father has no male heirs, and my uncle stands to inherit the throne after him, which means Sarelle may become queen of Neaux. Maea, I can go home to Neaux!”
Chapter Fifteen
Harvest Moon drew near and, with it, the harvest celebration. In the city of Keisan that meant a ball. All the solstices and equinoxes were celebrated in this manner. It was hard to realize I had been in Keisan nigh almost six months, and how times had changed since my arrival. Were it not for Sabine, I would have excused myself from the festivities. However, she begged me to go, citing the fact that it would be her last in Danhad. Preliminary plans had been made for Sabine to return to Neaux come the spring thaw. The journey would be too long and treacherous this late in the year. It was a small comfort in my slowly crumbling world.
The night of the fete, I sat at a dressing table, staring into my own reflection. What am I doing here? I wondered. What do I have left? A sharp knock at the door roused me from my musings. I thought it Sabine ready to depart.
I called out to her to enter, but a servant’s voice replied.
“My lady, you have a guest.”
Perplexed by my oddly timed visitor, I went to investigate. My breath caught as she entered my small receiving room. Damara awaited me, resplendent in a burnt-orange gown that set her auburn hair aflame.
The servant who had fetched me twisted her hands. “I’m sorry, my lady, she insisted on speaking with you.”
“Leave us.” I did not take my eyes off Damara. She met my steady gaze with a small tilted smile and a familiar twinkle in her eyes, and oh Goddess, I could not help but love her for her brazenness, to show up in my chamber unannounced after everything that had happened.
“I wanted to see you,” she said, and I fought back tears as conflicting emotions warred within me.
“You have no right to be here.” My voice held none of the authority I wished it to.
“I know, and I am here to make amends for what I have done.”
I paced the room to resist the urge to strike the smug expression off her countenance. How dare she come here and try to ask to make amends. I peered at her from the corner of my eyes and tried to untangle my fists.
“There’s nothing you can say that will change the damage that has been done. I will not be your pawn any longer, Damara.” I turned to give her the brunt of my scorn.
Pain raced across her eyes, and for once, tears stood on her long lashes. Guilt stabbed me in the gut. Two sides squabbled inside my head, the Maea of my memories who loved and trusted Damara and the Maea of my present who knew only deceit and betrayal.
“I know. That is why I’m here to give you the key to your freedom.” She motioned to a high-backed chair by the door, a chest upon it, beckoned me to open it. “I had intended to save this for your debut, but I think the time has come before I intended.”
I hesitated to reveal my curiosity, but in the end, it won. I approached the chest, glancing once back at Damara before pulling back the lid. Inside lay a gown, the color of a deep violet sunset, trimmed with white lace and accented by silver beading along the neckline.
“Those are House Diranel’s colors. The groundwork for your accession is in place. You need only grasp it, and everything your family lost can be regained.”
I bunched the gown in my hands and swallowed my tears. “Not my past, not what he took from me.” I refused to look at her lest she see my tears.
“You are the last daughter of House Diranel, regardless of what he has done. Nothing changes that fact.”
Her statement left me conflicted. Why go to the effort if she would give up so easily? What person goes to the trouble of catching a bird only to leave the cage doors open?
Tears rolled down my cheeks and fell onto the velvet of the gown. “I want you to leave.”
I heard the rustle of her gown as she bowed. “As you wish.”
Her footsteps echoed across the chamber before the creak of the wooden door signaled her exit. The door slammed shut and seemed to echo long after she had gone.
*~*~*
I dressed and met Sabine in her receiving room. As I entered, she did a double-take.
“Maea, I hardly recognize you.”
I fidgeted with the velvet of my gown nervously. I had chosen to wear the gown Damara had given me. Though I was hesitant to admit it, she was right. I had nothing left to me but my future, and I would take control of it the only way I could, even if it meant risking the king’s displeasure.
“I wanted to try something different.”
I forced a smile, and Sabine, still euphoric with the news of leaving for home, hugged me tightly and said, “You look stunning.”
We left for the ball after that, Sabine’s guards in tow. It felt strange to be without Earvin in my shadow. I reminded myself that he was another trapping of my former imprisonment. Outside the ballroom, we greeted a few familiar faces milling around. Many eyes cast in our direction. Some tarried on me before returning to their conversations. My significance had not increased. I remained a lady in Sabine’s service, yet I felt as if I held the weight of the world upon my shoulders. My stomach flopped with nerves. Sabine, sensing my insecurity, pressed my arm reassuringly. If only she knew what I intended to do this night.
I smiled back at her and groped for my necklace, which was no longer there. It left me with a sinking feeling in my gut. We joined a short queue awaiting entry into the ballroom. At the head of the line, a court crier waited to announce guests to the ball. Seeing him, my stomach flipped with a fresh turn of nerves. Our turn came, and the crier announced Sabine, who sashayed into the ballroom. Before he could announce me, I leaned in, whispering in the crier’s ear. His eyes darted over my face before nodding his consent.
Sabine had nearly reached the king’s podium when the crier declared in a loud clear voice, “Now entering, Lady Maea of House Diranel.”
Not all sound stopped, I will not be so vain as to say so, but for me, the air rang with the crier’s words. Those who were not otherwise distracted peered in my direction. Sabine turned to face me, eyes wide, realizing what I had done. I played the only card left to me. Damara had spoken true, I was a daughter of House Diranel, and it was time everyone knew me for what I was and not what others chose to reveal.
After what seemed an eternity, I stepped forward and into the ballroom.
A murmur passed ahead of me as I traversed the small space from the crier to the king’s throne. The rumors flew. Perhaps they remembered, or perhaps they had seen me about the palace and thought me presumptuous, but those that knew the stories took one look at me and knew. In my deep violet gown there was no denying the truth.
King Gallon watched me with cold blue eyes. He remembered my family’s betrayal. I could see it there in the cold depths of his gaze. Our families had a long history not easily forgotten. Holding my head high and proud, I marched forward. A banner hung behind him in Royal House Raleban’s colors with a deep blue background and a silver tree emblazoned there.
My eyes flickered away from him for a moment towards Queen Idella, an enigmatic smile tugged at her lips. I averted my gaze. I did not want to think about Damara and her plotting. I was free of that now. Flanked to the left and right of them were Adair and Princess Edalene. She, a spritely vision in a blushing pink gown, and pearls tied up in her long ebony hair. I waved back at her from the hip, and she smiled back with a small wave.
Then there was Adair, watching me as a cat does a canary. He seemed amused by my ploy, and that infernal smirk, placed firmly on his lips, taunted my courage. I tore my eyes away from them and back on King Dallin; his mouth was a straight line beneath his beard. Sa
bine waited for me, and together we kneeled at his throne, eyes cast down. I bowed, half-hoping the ground itself would swallow me up to end the squirming uncomfortable feeling in my gut.
“Rise,” he commanded.
Sabine greeted him in formal tones, introducing her household, while I attempted to control my trembling limbs by looking forward. Sabine finished, and King Dallin stared at me as if assessing his reply. From the erratic rhythms of my heart, I thought it would give way. Would the king acknowledge my gambit for fair, foul, or disregard me as being beneath his concern. Who am I but a foot soldier in their political warring?
Adair leaned in to whisper in his uncle’s ear.
“Lady Diranel,” King Dallin said.
My heart skipped a beat. Had I heard him correctly? I looked up at him through my lashes. “Your Majesty?”
“House Diranel, how long ago did it fall?”
My mouth became very dry. “My house, I’m told, fell from power a century ago, Your Majesty.”
“Indeed.” The king cradled his chin in his hand. “And you have been here at court for some time now.” His eyes darted to the left. I followed his gaze and met Damara’s eyes; Johai, just behind her, avoided my gaze. My heart constrict with pain. I pined for him as a love-struck girl, and I hated myself for it. My feelings for him were as foreign as another language and yet as familiar as a dear friend. I tore my gaze away.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Why do you choose now to claim your house title? Surely you know why your family is no longer in power?”
To this day, I do not know where the words that came out of my mouth came from. “Your Majesty, as the remaining member of House Diranel, it is my duty to swear myself unto you. I wish only to make reparations for the damage my kinsman have made.”
What he had been expecting, I am not sure, but I could see the tight lines around his mouth slacken, seemingly pleased. “Enjoy the ball,” he said in dismissal.
I sat in a daze for a moment, uncertain I had heard him clearly. Sabine grabbed my hand and led me away. We wended through the crowd, and Damara materialized beside me.
She clasped my free hand in both of hers, leaned in, and whispered, “You did well, Maea.”
I turned around to acknowledge her praise, but she melted into the crowd like a specter and vanished from sight. I searched the sea of faces, but only caught a blink of her auburn hair before it disappeared out of sight. A part of me wanted to chase after her, to shake the damnable answers out of her, and a more sensible part of me knew it could never be. I would never really trust her again.
Without any other choice, I followed Sabine to the banquet, where food awaited. My nerves subsided, and I realized I was ravenous with hunger. I ate and felt the tension and sadness ebb, if only a little. I had done as Damara had intended. I had declared myself a scion of House Diranel. It was a small triumph in the fact that it changed nothing for me, but still it felt freeing, nonetheless.
After our meal, the master of ceremonies announced an opening for dancing. Sabine, seated beside me, declined many offers to dance from sons of merchants. I kept an eye out for Adair. I had yet to have a chance to thank him for all he had done for me. Had he not whispered in the king’s ear, I was not sure where I would be at this moment.
As I scanned the crowd, I caught sight of Jon parting the revelers and heading straight for us. I averted my gaze, hoping he would overlook us, but he had set a direct trajectory, as if nothing could dissuade him. Before I had a chance to suggest to Sabine that we relocate, he was upon us. He bowed in greeting and came up smiling rakishly.
“Miladies, you look resplendent this evening.”
“Duke Sixton, you are very kind,” Sabine said. Behind us, Sabine’s guard Beau shifted, the tinkling clink of his broadsword against his armor was a cool reminder for Jon to keep his compliments few. I still wondered about Sabine and Beau’s relationship, but the pair of them had not made any indication they were more than mistress and guard since that day.
Jon cleared his throat and redirected his attention to me.
“Thank you,” I muttered, squirming under his piercing gaze.
“Your Majesty, I hope you will not be disappointed if I ask Lady Diranel for a dance.”
I glanced up, bewildered. I thought he would have given up on his proposal once I was out of Damara’s care, but perhaps I had been wrong. I tried to catch Sabine’s eye without being transparent about my utter distaste at the notion when I noticed someone else coming towards us through the crowd. I prayed a silent prayer to the Goddess, not now, not him.
“You would have to ask her yourself.” Sabine’s tone was light and jovial. She did not know about Jon’s offer, or she never would have agreed.
“Well then, Lady Diranel, will you do me the honor of your first dance?”
I was opening my mouth to decline when someone else beat me to it.
“No, she has been promised to me.”
Johai stood above me, impassive as ever. His blue eyes betrayed nothing of his thoughts. I swallowed the emotion that rose at the sight of him, hatred and love battled for ground, and I felt a mild pounding of my head, a shadowy reminder of the necklace’s effect on me.
He reached out his hand for me to take. I stared between the two of them. Had I the choice I would have run away. Knowing my intention this night was to reclaim a measure of respectability, I knew I had no other choice. I took Johai’s hand. Sparks travelled up my arm and down my spine at the brushing of his fingers upon mine.
I looked into his eyes. Did he feel it too?
I looked away. He betrayed me and tried to use me, I reminded myself. One dance, just enough time to have Duke Sixton lose interest.
“Perhaps later, Lady Diranel.” Duke Sixton bowed deeply to me, making me even more uncomfortable. I knew that would not be the last of him.
“Maea, are you sure?” Sabine said, glancing between Johai and me.
The sensible thing to do would have been to drop his hand and walk away. Yet, I could not. I wanted to prove to him that he held no sway over me, that I had broken his spell, and that I was free. Moreover, if I was being honest, I wanted to feel his arms around me one last time like my faded memories recalled and longed for.
“I’ll be fine.” I turned back to Johai. His blue eyes never left my face. “Shall we?”
He bowed formally to me, and with a grasp as light as a feather, he led me onto the dance floor. The dancers arranged themselves, women on one side, men on the other. A quartet of musicians began a lively tune, and the dance began. For a long moment, I just stared into his eyes, waiting for that first beat of the tempo. We strode to the center, meeting there. Hands pressed palm to palm, our eyes met, and I could not tear myself away from his gaze.
“Will you marry him?” Johai asked.
My breath caught, despite everything, he still cared whom I married? “No, I do not love him.”
We pulled apart. I locked arms with the woman to my right, and we twirled around. The room spun in a blur of vibrant, reds, blues and oranges. I returned to the first position and then stood across from the partner of the woman to my left. We met in the center, palms pressed together. We parted, joined our female and male counterparts before returning once more to the first position.
Johai regarded me with a smoldering intensity. We strode to the center, where we met once more. As our palms should have been pressed flat together, he cupped my hand in his.
He leaned in close to whisper, “Good.”
One word and I felt as if I had come undone. All of my grand speeches, the vindictive things I had planned to tell him, I knew they were all a lie. He still held my heart, and a part of me could not even understand why. The dance ended shortly after that. He bowed to me, and I bowed in return. I turned and walked briskly away. I resisted the urge to run, from my feelings that I could not control nor understand and the sadness that felt as if it would swallow me whole.
Heart hammering in my chest, I wended my way throu
gh the crowd, trying to escape my tormented thoughts. Damn Johai! Why does he still hold this power over me when I cannot even fully remember loving him? I am clinging to phantom feelings I hate. I took a glass from a circulating servant’s tray and gulped it in one draught. A delicately cleared throat drew my attention. I turned on the intruder to find Duke Magdale and Great Lady Hana awaiting me.
“Your grace, my lady.” I bowed. Had I not been wrapped up in my own concerns, I might have been curious as to why the two of them would be together.
“Lady Maea, you are a most difficult woman to contact,” Duke Magdale said.
“What would your grace have to speak with me about?”
He eyed me. “I have heard you are now well established here at court, and my lady wife,” he motioned toward Great Lady Hana, “is without female companionship. I thought perhaps you could make introductions for her.”
I had to clamp my mouth shut not to gape. Lady Hana had married Duke Magdale? He was old enough to be her father.
“Congratulations, your grace, I had not received tidings of your nuptials. I have been ill.” I let that final word dangle, wondering if he would take the bait. If he knew what Damara had been up to or had at least suspected, I wasn’t sure he would reveal it, but his face was unreadable.
“I was not aware. I hope you are well enough to come call, soon.”
I glanced towards Lady Hana, now Duchess Magdale, and wondered why she would choose him of all people. She smiled at me serenely with a dangerous tilt of her brow as if challenging me. I decided I would call upon her if only to establish her position in all this.
“It would be my pleasure, your grace.”
“Splendid.” He said it as if he thought it to be anything but.
I excused myself and headed towards the double doors that led out onto the terrace. Fresh air sounded exceedingly pleasing at that moment. I exited, and I filled my lungs with the sharp night air and choked on a sob that had attempted to escape. My mind was spinning, and I felt as if I would be torn asunder. I cared no longer for these politics, for the games these people played. I wanted the old me, the girl who loved to read by the fire at night and explore the untamed wild by day. I was grasping for the threads of a life lost.
Diviner's Prophecy (Book One Diviner's Trilogy) Page 16