by Raven Bouray
“Yes.” He nodded, pleased with her question. “Some say there might have been a fourth but who knows. Now I am of the kind that maybe there was a fourth, but it was highly contested even among elven scholars. As it stands, three is the number that has been confirmed.”
“Do they represent the same traits as our gods?”
“Not exactly. They represent elemental power and the emotions and traits that are associated with that power. Our gods represent ideals and beliefs as well as tasks. They are quite different.” He paused once more, to let her ask another question and when none came he continued. “Now, our Dwarven neighbors have--.”
“Two gods. Simple. Male and Female. And many venerated ancestors that are honored, but not worshipped.”
“And why are they honored?”
“For great achievements.”
“Good. When was the last dwarf venerated as such?”
“Nearly 300 years ago, when Lurdion saved Vidmar from collapsing due to a mountain shift.” She had learned this while staying with the dwarves. Their shorter, stouter, and tougher neighbors were very eager to share their history with her while she had been staying with them as so many of the humans deemed them little more than trading partners or annoyances. They did really have a very rich history filled with more tales and memorials, statues, and great metal and gemmed works than she had ever heard of. They were also quite older as a people than the humans.
“How many are there?” He quizzed her again.
“Venerated? Only eight.”
“In years before counting, only eight have stood high enough to be remembered and honored forever. It is quite the feat, wouldn’t you say so, Lady?”
“One supposes.”
“Your birthday is fast approaching, and I know you well enough to know that you are going to make your own story. Will you be remembered or will you fade in the wind?”
“Master?” Emmaline shivered and gooseflesh appeared on her arms at his question and focus on her. She could feel her heart beating in her chest while he watched her seriously, but then just as suddenly, a smile broke out upon his lips.
“But I’m just a mad old man, what do I know?” He winked at her. “Lesson’s over. I will see you the day after tomorrow.”
“The day after tomorrow?” Tomorrow was dancing and music and more lessons of arithmetic, but the day after was dedicated to training and remained a relatively free day, save for her birthday.
“You aren’t allowed out into the training field with so many guests. Women using weapons is very much frowned upon, you know that.”
“Of course it is.” She tried not to sound a bit petulant or bitter but failed quite miserably.
“Now now, there will be plenty of time for things after they leave. You have many years ahead of you, my Lady.”
“What will our lesson be about?”
“I haven’t decided yet. You’ve been talked to death about our history and even that of Erisin. We haven’t spoken much on religion, or other races.” After all, Master Telgrin had only been with them a mere five years, one of which was spent at her foster with the dwarves. But her lessons with him were only twice a week. They had a lot of history here to learn about and from. The mage rebellion, the subsequent culling and leashing of them, the three civil wars, the merchant culls, slavery, and many many other things that had frightened and astounded her at each turn.
“Could we talk more about the elves?”
“Yes, of course! Elves! Inquisitive minds are the most absorbent. Now, off with you. Wash up, put on something pretty that you hate, go downstairs and make connections. Your political mentor will be having a fit about all the bustle about to happen.”
With that dismissal she got up and walked out of the room, pausing for a moment after the door clicked shut behind her. Cleaned up and downstairs… With the DeVrosses. Watching paint dry, grass grow, needlework, chess, and nearly anything else would be more fun. but she couldn’t leave her parents alone, and this was her birthday. She had a duty. There was always honor and duty, no matter what.
Emmaline marched down the hall and up the flight of stairs to the private quarters before opening the door to her room and letting out a shriek of surprise at finding her mother sitting down on her perfectly made bed.
After placing a hand on her heart to calm the pounding beats, she took a deep breath and stepped into the room while shutting the door behind her. “Mama, what are you doing here?” Her question was a bit breathless and higher pitched than usual.
“Emmaline. Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you so soon and I certainly wasn’t expecting that reaction.” Her mother had stood and come to her from the bed to bring her daughter into a soothing embrace.
“But, mama,” she said, slightly muffled into her mother’s shoulder. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Oh. Well I just wanted to see how you were. After your father managed to escape our guest, I found him, and he told me a short story about why you had been late coming home.” She released her daughter and gave her a half sharp look at which Emmaline averted her gaze.
“Ah.”
“Ah? You usually have much and more to say about any and all things, daughter.” Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder and led her gently over to the bed. Emmaline followed because the alternative was probably not the best idea.
“How much did he tell you?”
“Not everything, but enough for me to give him a thorough slap on the back of his head. He was not supposed to tell you anything without me.”
Emmaline couldn’t hide the upturn of her lips at the thought of her father cowering in front of her thin, small mother. He did it quite a lot. “He didn’t act like that.”
“Your father has more bluff and bluster than almost anyone else I’ve met. He could make the worst mistake in his life and play it off as something he did on purpose. In fact, he has done that on a few occasions. But regardless, Emmaline--.”
“I know. I know. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“I would have eventually addressed that, but yes, you should not have run away. That was a risky and foolhardy thing to do. What if you had gotten lost or hurt?”
“But I didn’t.”
“Hmmph.” Her mother’s gaze turned sharp once more. “Not this time. Everyone thinks that bad things cannot possibly happen to them, but they can, and it only takes one time for things to go wrong and that be the end. You were lucky, sweet daughter, and that is all.”
There was no use arguing, so she nodded and looked properly chastised. “But mother, I don’t understand why it has to be now.”
“There may be war, and the crown needs stronger alliances. Those tied by blood or marriage will serve well. And your grandfather threatened to marry you off to someone of his choosing if a suitable husband was not picked by your birthday. We couldn’t have that. The man is a great fool and would probably have you in DeVross’s hold before the next week.”
“No.” She must have sounded or looked suitably frightened as her mother’s gaze turned soft once more and she gave her daughter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“We would never let that happen. Never. They are slime ridden fishmongers, and I’ve heard things about Edrin that make my skin crawl. No. It will be someone else. We have three other families with enough money and power that would make a good political match. The Calgens, the Nivons, and the Xereni all have sons of marriageable age and the families are well known. You went to the Calgens for your first fostering, so you know at least one of them.”
“Jacen? Really, mother? I was seven and he was eight. He constantly pulled my hair and called me names. I finally had to hit him in the nose to get him to leave me alone.” She did not remember that boy fondly in the least bit.
“He is eighteen now and quite the rider and jouster. From what I’ve heard, he’s of fine form as well.”
“Well if I have to look at someone for the rest of my life, I should like the way they look, at least.” A slight mocking tone drew a dee
p sigh from her mother.
“The other two are from families I do not have many ties to, but your father has had dealings with them, and they are more than happy to have the fifth in line for the crown as a wife.”
“But you promised.” Again she tried to sound less petulant but from the measured look her mother gave her, she didn’t succeed then either.
“I know. But we must do things we don’t want to do for the sake of others.” She lifted Emmaline’s chin to look her eye. “Whoever you choose, the process with be lengthy. You will not be whisked away and locked in some lord's bedchamber. You will have time for things to process.” And progress. The last part she left as unspoken, as she knew that Emmaline had not had her first blood yet at the old age of nearly seventeen. It would give her more time to begin that. Wives who would not bear children were promptly discarded. Maybe it was a good thing that she was so behind.
“Were you afraid when you were betrothed to Daddy?”
“Quite nervous, yes. I hadn’t even seen your father in person, but my dowry won out and your grandfather is a greedy man. I was only fourteen when we married, and the first time I laid eyes on him, he frightened me terribly, but all love takes time to blossom and he did his best as we were both so young. But he is a good man and a kind husband, and I was very lucky to be chosen. I thank the Six every day for that. And it will be the same for you. You will find one of them, and he will charm you and you will live happily afterward.”
“But what if I don’t? What if I can’t do the things that make me happy?”
“You can find happiness anywhere, not just in a set of hobbies or skills, and even if you were to lose something you enjoy here, it doesn’t mean the end. But try to keep an open mind, darling. You might be surprised.” She dropped her hand from Emmaline’s chin and stood. “It’s nearly time for dinner, so get washed up, and I’ll send in your maid to help you into a dress. Put your best face on and foot forward. It’s time to see some of that beauty and charm full force, and try not to look as if you want someone to kill you the whole time.” Emmaline was pulled into another hug. “I love you so much, sweet girl. So very much.” With a last squeeze, her mother nearly floated out of the room like a whisper and was gone.
“I’ll try.” She sighed to an empty room before rising once more and pulling off her dirty riding clothes. She would try. Perhaps her mother was right, perhaps things would surprise her. A knock on the door and the creak of the hinges announced Tess, one of her two maids, and they set to work turning her into a proper lady once more. It would take a lot more than a pretty dress and rouge to get her through dinner.
Chapter 6
The next morning, or rather more toward afternoon, Emmaline resisted the urge to fidget in place and tug at the constricting corset of her gown while standing next to her mother and father as newcomers made their way up to the castle. The traveling party was small to better escape the notice of highwaymen but big enough to keep face. Xander Niven was a thick man, but unlike her father, that thickness was made up mostly of fat and gristle, though he was not as portly as some that she had seen, stuffing their faces and having more than two chins. Behind him was a chubby, but not overly so, young man. Dark stubble adorned his cheeks as he looked around before settling on Emmaline. She saw his quick grin much like he was sizing her up for a meal and suppressed the urge to sneer or shiver in disgust and instead kept that vacant smile on her lips. A guard of ten men surrounded them and one older gentleman, who looked more of a bookreader than anything else.
When they entered the gates, the stable hands quickly took the bridles of the Lord and lordling as they made an awkward time of dismounting. Lord Niven grunted as his boots hit the ground, and she watched as his son nearly tripped over his own feet after jerking them from his stirrups to slide down. Her father gave a cursory and amicable greeting before introducing her mother and finally her.
“You know of my daughter, Lady Emmaline.”
“Yes! Such a little beauty you have there, Gregor!” The thick man took her hand in his and gave it a slightly damp kiss while she curtsied. As he pulled away, a line of spittle went with him, and she nearly gasped in horror and fought the very real urge to wipe her hand on his doublet.
“Thank you, my Lord,” she returned softly.
“And this is my son, Tylred Nivon. He’s a well behaved young man, and I’m certain you will get along well together.”
“Of course. Good morning, young Lord Nivon. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She met his eye then curtsied yet again in the blasted corset.
“Umm. Y-y-yes, Lady D’Terin. P-p-p-pleasure is all mine,” he stuttered out, and she watched as his face turned red. It was sort of endearing, despite the previous look that he had directed at her. Emmaline detached from his grip and stepped back from the red faced male to her parent’s side.
“Yes, well.” Lord Nivon looked disapprovingly at his son for a moment before turning his attention back to her father. “I understand you already have guests here.”
“Yes. The DeVrosses are staying in the guest wing, where you will be housed as well. They arrived yesterday.”
“They always have to be first, do they not? I’m sure such a long journey was tiring for them.” His tone held distaste but not his expression. “No matter. I have things we must discuss and better to do it before such a momentous occasion.”
“I believe they are still resting, but a servant should be sent forthwith to wake them for a late breakfast.”
“Hmmph.”
“For now though, I will have our servants take your things to your temporary lodgings and show you where they are. We will be serving lunch in an hour or two. We could talk, and perhaps Emmaline could get to know your son a little better,” her mother, ever the hostess, interjected between them.
“That would be good, yes. I will see you soon then.”
Tylred was still blushing pinkly as Emmaline met his gaze. He quickly averted his brown eyes, and his cheeks darkened to a deeper pink. Poor boy. He was never going to find a wife unless he stopped that. But perhaps some second or third daughter might be persuaded to wed him if a suitable bride price was met.
When they were out of sight and earshot, her father gave a quiet laugh. “Be nice to him, dove.”
“Whatever do you mean, papa?” She asked innocently.
“That boy is going to be eaten alive,” was all her mother said before leaving her two troublemakers to their own devices because she had preparations to make with Gisell. Father and daughter merely grinned at each other before he offered her an arm and she took it for him to lead her away from the yard. At least two more of these formal greetings to go. How would she survive it?
Nearly three hours later, Emmaline sighed internally as she sat on one of the stone benches in the garden watching Edrin DeVross’s bumbling attempts at swordplay. She very nearly winced when he swung the sword, overcompensated and nearly fell on his face, but if he had fallen, she might not have been able to hold back laughter at his clumsiness. Of course he had come to her just after lunch after an incredibly taxing evening at the dinner table filled with false laughter and stories of Edrin’s accomplishments and qualifications to be a perfect husband.
At dinner last night, everything had been perfect, courteous, and fake in just the way these things usually were. Very few of the nobility were ever genuine, and when they were, most of the time someone used it to their advantage in some way. Her diet had been up for discussion during dinner, and her would be suitor scoffed at her aversion to meat. After which he said in no uncertain terms without actually spelling out the words that she would not subsist like a rabbit in his home. Not if she was going to have healthy children. Emmaline merely glared and speared another leaf from her salad.
Today at lunch was some sort of awkward song and dance as the adults talked while her would be suitor barely said an entire coherent sentence to her. He would leer occasionally at her when her attention was occupied elsewhere, but words seemed utterly beyond hi
m. There was absolutely no way she would marry him. Edrin, on the other hand, was full of words about himself. In fact, even if Tylred wanted to talk about himself, it seemed as though Edrin would have merely talked over him. She had quite quickly found that they were both rather immature in differing degrees. Hopefully her two other suitors would have more brains and tact, otherwise she was going to have to run away until all this marriage business was over.
It was after lunch that Emmaline found herself in the garden with one Edrin DeVross as he tried rather poorly to impress her.
Which is how she came to watch as another overreaching slash had the sword buried with a thud in the bark of one of the trees. She winced painfully in response. Glancing over to her would be suitor and his current problem, she spied the guards at the entrance to the garden and watched them chuckle softly to themselves.