by Jeff Wheeler
During their walks, each of the young women present sought an individual audience with Sera, and it emerged that they were evenly divided in supporting her and her father. Again she thought of the letters she’d been given and wondered how their contents might sway the vote in her favor.
She would feel better about making her own decision if she better understood Lady Corinne’s motives. In watching her, Sera tried to understand her personality and her character. The lady was intensely focused, and while she did possess deep knowledge of the gardens, she revealed very little about herself, choosing instead to draw out the girls she’d invited to the event. All except for Sera.
After visiting the gardens, they took the zephyrs down to the cliffs and walked along the well-tended footpath. It led to a stone pavilion where there was seating and a giant ring of fire fueled by four smaller Leerings. The flames rippled and danced in the wind from the cliffs. Near the dining area, there was a small kitchen and serving area where the servants had gathered to prepare the evening’s meal. Sera spied the servant from earlier among them, his uniform clean. He watched the procession go by but avoided her eyes. Was that deliberate?
At the crook of the trail, a stairwell of timber slats had been built into the cliffside. It was very steep, and despite the iron rails lining the stone, some of the girls were unsure of themselves and their footing. Sera had climbed the Tor many times at Muirwood and found the descent easy. The sun was descending on the western horizon, lowering above the flat gray waters that extended into the distance. When they reached the beach, there were officers from the Ministry of War stationed there as bodyguards. Some of the young women teased and flirted with them, but the soldiers remained focused on their duty. Seeing the uniforms made Sera think of Will Russell, and her heart fluttered. How soon would he arrive at the City with the batch of letters? The irony of that thought made her sigh.
Piles of bleached driftwood were gathered against the walls at the bottom of the cliffs. There was so much of it that others had used it to build makeshift structures like benches and huts. The gentle shushing of the waves came and went, and Sera’s eyes were fixed on the moving waters when she caught sight of something that made her gape in surprise. The beach had collected another piece of driftwood that was impossibly huge.
“Look! Look at that!” said Penelope Wilkins in wonder.
It was a tree, massive and tall, that had been uprooted and washed ashore who knew how many years before. The bark had all been stripped from it, giving it the same bleached look as the other trees. The root ball was five times taller than a man, a mass of tentacles frozen in rigor mortis. The silvered trunk tapered away from the root ball, but it was easily two or three times as wide as a human was tall. As Sera stared at the fallen tree, an intense craving to climb it seized her, flooding her with memories from childhood.
“I have never seen a tree so big,” said Miss Mortenson. “It’s gigantic.”
“It came from that outcropping of rock,” explained Lady Corinne, joining the group assembled on the beach. She gestured toward a small mountain jutting up from the waves farther along the beach. The cliffs were all scarred and battered by the surf, but the crown of the hill was green and covered with tall evergreen trees. None was so massive as the one that had fallen.
“Did it really?” asked Miss Mortenson with interest.
“You can reach that mound by sky ship,” Lady Corinne answered. “There is a crater where it grew before.”
“Can we go there next?” asked another girl excitedly.
“No, there are no trails there. It is very rugged and dangerous. The best view is from here on the beach.”
“What is that tree called?” asked another girl, knowing Lady Corinne was an expert on all the names.
“It’s called a Shui-sa. The Bhikhu named it. It means ‘water fir.’ They only grow on the coast or high in the mountains. If you were to cross the waters to the north, you would reach the principality of Pry-Ree. The trees come from there and are very ancient. This one fell long ago, and the waters washed it up on shore. It has settled in the sand and has never moved since. The trunk is nearly petrified now. Come feel it.”
All the girls, including Sera, were eager to do just that. They joined together at the fallen tree and explored it while Lady Corinne watched them with interest. Sera grazed her hand along the silvery trunk. What she wouldn’t give to have seen the mighty tree fall from the cliff and land in the water. There were still some broken limbs that would have made good ladders, and she found herself longing, again, to climb up it. It was clearly wide enough for her to walk down the length. Shoving the impulsive thought away, she walked into the shadow beneath the trunk and admired the mass of roots. The sand near the cluster was compact and wet, showing that part of the roots would be submerged when the tide was up.
She definitely had enjoyed the gardens and the beach more than the sumptuously decorated manor, which she couldn’t currently see because of the cliffs. The beach was a treasure, owned by one family. Enjoyed by one family and those whom they invited to visit. It was a shame to guard such a secret.
The group of ladies lingered on the beach until the sun set, something they watched together. It was a unique moment for Sera. She’d never seen the sun get swallowed by the sea in quite such a manner.
When it was gone, a zephyr came off the mountain and joined them on the beach.
“The tide will come in soon,” said Lady Corinne. “It is time for our dinner at the cliff.”
Many of the girls looked relieved at the sight of the zephyr, which meant they would not need to climb back up the steep stairs.
“I should like to walk back up, Lady Corinne,” Sera heard herself say. Mr. Durrant had always taught her to demand what she expected instead of ask for it.
Some of the girls gave her offended looks. Some admiring ones.
“By all means,” Lady Corinne said. “The guards will see you up.”
One of the girls, Miss Gentry, seemed eager to go with her, but she lowered her head after glancing at the other girls. No doubt she was too worried about their opinion of her to risk it.
Sera nodded to Lady Corinne and then started back up the beach. The cliffs did look imposing, but she knew she could handle the ascent. The cove had a magical air, and she regretted that she could not stay down below to watch the tide come in. The others gathered into the zephyr, which instantly lifted them up to the height of the cliff, and Sera began walking up the pathway. Two soldiers led the way.
The climb was indeed a bit strenuous, but Sera was grateful once again for the view and the opportunity to linger. She would never forget Pavenham Sky, and she could only hope to return one day and climb that tree. But not with anyone watching.
By the time she reached the top of the cliff, her legs were sore, and she was sweating and a little out of breath. She was also very thirsty. The others had assembled at the stone pavilion and were chatting gaily with each other. Servants with trays brought them drinks, and the light of the fire revealed their animated faces. As Sera drew closer, she heard music emanating from one of the Leerings.
A servant approached her with a tray, and she recognized him instantly. There was a single chalice on it, which he offered her with a slight nod.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it. Her throat was parched, and she took a long draft of the sweet-flavored nectar. It was a blend of different juices. Very subtle but refreshing.
He bowed again and turned to leave without saying a word.
“What is your name?” she asked him, and he startled a bit.
“I am known as Trevon Wyckford, if you please, ma’am,” he answered meekly.
“And where are you from, Trevon Wyckford?” she asked, again as he was about to leave.
He paused again and turned to look at her. “I’m from the north.”
She took another sip. “Dundrennan, perhaps?”
She was hoping that her reference of a duchy in Kingfountain would stir a reaction from hi
m. His eyes crinkled around the edges. “No, ma’am.”
“Your name isn’t Trevon,” she said softly. “‘I am known as . . .’” Then she offered a little chuckle. “You won’t lie outright. That’s good news. Your Highness,” she said, inclining her head to him.
He was struggling not to smile.
“What gave me away?” he asked in an almost whisper. “Did someone tell you I was here?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “Just a feeling.”
He pursed his lips. “Indeed? Are you going to reveal me in front of the others now?”
“I assume Lady Corinne knows?”
“Of course. The disguise was my idea. You get to know a lot about someone from how they treat others. Especially from how they treat people lower than themselves. You are the only one who thanked me for the drink, by the way.”
“Your accent is impeccable,” Sera said. “I always heard that our languages are very different. Though I’ve never met someone from Kingfountain before.”
“Thank you, but I cannot take credit. Language is a Gift from the Fountain. Our cultures are similar in some ways. But they are also very different.” He glanced back at the pavilion. “And I see we’re attracting too much unwanted attention. So, do you plan to reveal me, Miss Fitzempress?”
“I can keep a secret,” she answered, taking another sip from the chalice.
CHAPTER TWENTY−FIVE
TESTIMONY
Sera secretly enjoyed herself as she watched the prince in disguise serve each of the young ladies gathered around the fire pit. Some hardly paid him notice at all, taking what refreshment they were offered without even looking at him. Others seemed to recognize him as the disruptive servant from earlier in the day and gave him a slightly curled lip and a look of disdain. Miss Mortenson’s reaction was especially hostile, and Sera had to shield her face, for she nearly burst out laughing.
Sera honored her word, however, and did not reveal the young imposter. Yes, he was getting a fair assessment of each young lady. The tide came in, and soon the waves were crashing against the wall of cliffs beneath them. A cool breeze followed soon after, but the warmth from the fire Leerings drove away the chill. A few young ladies took the opportunity to talk to Sera again, which she recognized as an attempt to curry favor, but if she’d learned anything from her visit to Pavenham Sky, it was that she had not missed much in terms of friendship by being kept away from these young ladies when she was younger. Her parents, flawed as they were, had at least shielded her from the pretenders who would puff up her feathers and the more competitive girls who would seek to best her at every turn. The encounters she had with the others made her even more grateful for her relationship with Cettie. She wondered how her friend would have been treated in such a gathering. Probably not very well.
Several hours after the gathering had started beneath the pavilion, Sera noticed the butler, Mr. Sewell, approach Lady Corinne and whisper something in her ear. The man had a concerned look, and Sera shifted forward in her seat, but she was unable to hear any of the words.
Lady Corinne’s expression changed to one of concern. She nodded, touching the butler’s arm, and then rose and quickly approached Sera. The conversation in the pavilion abruptly ended, and all watched to see what would happen.
“Your tempest has been put on alert,” Lady Corinne said in a quiet way. “The privy council has called an emergency meeting, and your presence is required.”
The news made Sera’s heart beat faster. “Do you know what it is about?”
Lady Corinne shook her head. “Your sky ship will come down here to whisk you back to Lockhaven. The word just arrived. I am grateful to have met you, Miss Fitzempress. Thank you for coming to Pavenham Sky.”
The other girls began to murmur to each other in low voices, no doubt speculating what situation could have demanded Sera’s immediate return.
The tempest descended from the upper heights of the estate and came down to meet her on the grassy knoll by the cliffs. Sera saw Hugilde on board, leaning over the railing, as she approached the ship with Lady Corinne and Mr. Sewell, who personally escorted her.
“Have a safe voyage,” Lady Corinne offered.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Sera replied.
They lowered the gangplank, and Sera strode up the steep ramp until she reached the ship. One look at Hugilde told her that her old governess was worried but didn’t know anything herself.
Before she could ask, Hugilde said, “I don’t know, Sera. A message came through the Leering from the Minister of War himself, ordering the tempest to fetch you and bring you back. Something has happened, but not even the captain knows what.”
Sera didn’t like being kept in the dark. She walked to the edge of the rails and watched as the gangplank was raised back on board. The tempest lurched, making her sway and catch herself on the railing bar. The small gathering of young women and servants quickly rushed away, and she thought about the young prince in disguise. Although she was more intrigued by him than she’d expected to be, she still felt her duty and her destiny was toward her own people, not his. But then she saw him standing amidst the dispersing crowd. He was the only one watching her sky ship rise. Their eyes met for a brief moment.
The speed of the sky ship increased, and from her vantage point, she could see the surf crashing below and could even spy the huge fallen tree amidst the waves. She wondered if she would ever return to the famous manor. And if she did, would it be as empress?
The tempest reached Lockhaven by morning. Sera had managed a few hours of fitful sleep in her stateroom on board, but she was drowsy and a little short-tempered when Hugilde helped her into a new gown and redid her hair for the meeting with the council. Looking at her own reflection in the mirror, she saw the gray smudges beneath her eyes and frowned at herself.
There were many tempests moored at the docking yard, but they were all military save one. It was a merchant vessel bearing the name Serpentine. The moniker sounded familiar to her, but she could not place it. After disembarking from the ship, she approached the entrance to the palace. Mr. Durrant awaited her at the opening, looking disheveled and wary.
“Do you know what this is about?” Sera asked him, and he quickly shook his head no.
“I do not. Whatever it is has been declared a state secret, and only members of the privy council are to be told. A merchant ship arrived before yours, and some people were ushered into the palace, a man and a woman. That’s all I know. This way!” He took her arm and started to tow her toward the privy council chamber.
“Mr. Durrant, I have a question for you,” she said as they walked swiftly.
“I will do my best to answer it,” he replied.
“When I was visiting Pavenham Sky, Lady Corinne took me aside. She gave me several letters, still sealed, from my father addressed to her. She asked me to return them to him. I have them with me now.”
His eyes bulged with surprise. “Did she indeed? Have you opened them?”
“No, of course not.”
“‘Of course not?’ Why not? They could contain information that could ruin your father’s credibility with the privy council.” He chuffed, shaking his head. “If you have qualms about reading them, I certainly do not! A decision is likely to be made very soon. This could be just what we need for victory. May I see them?” he asked eagerly.
Sera still felt rather unsure about the situation. She’d been wrestling with her conscience all day. And yes, had she not constantly been in the company of others while at Pavenham Sky, she likely would have opened one by now. She’d been sorely tempted during the journey back to Lockhaven but had decided to ask the advice of Mr. Durrant and Lord Fitzroy before she did so. It was evident what Mr. Durrant’s opinion was.
“We will discuss it after the privy council meeting,” she told him.
“But, Sera,” he urged, “I can read them and think of a suitable plan while you are in the meeting.”
“Later, Mr. Durrant,”
she said firmly.
“Of course,” he demurred. But she could see the sign of resentment in his eyes.
Some servants and military men were gathered just outside the council room. Sera was always one to look at faces, and she stopped suddenly when she recognized the Prince of Kingfountain’s face amidst those gathered there. It startled her to see he’d somehow beaten her to the meeting. How was it possible? He met her gaze, and a half smile came to his mouth when he realized she recognized him. This time he was disguised as a soldier. She gave him an accusatory look, but then she was ushered into the room. She looked back at him, trying to untangle what was going on, but then the door was shut behind her, and she saw that the privy council had gathered and had been waiting for her.
Lord Fitzroy was present this time, conferring with two people she had never met before and who were not part of the council. Her father was in his usual seat, but there was a guilty, worried look in his eyes rather than his usual blustery confidence. Did he know about the letters? Had Lady Corinne told him that he would be getting them back?
Neither Mr. Durrant nor Hugilde had been permitted to enter, so she quickly came around and took her seat near her father’s. The room came to order immediately.
“All right, Fitzroy,” her father said grudgingly. “She’s here now. I can’t believe we’ve had to wait this long.”
Although her father’s tone was condescending, Fitzroy would not be ruffled. He looked haggard and weary, as if he had been up all night, but he spoke calmly in reply.
“I appreciate your patience, Prince Regent,” Fitzroy said. “And to avoid taxing it further, I will be to the point. Yesterday, the privy council authorized the use of the Cruciger orb to hunt down the kishion who shot the Aldermaston of Muirwood. This man beside me is Caulton Forshee, a teacher at Billerbeck Abbey and the operator of the orb. The woman is my sister-in-law Juliana Haughton. I will summarize the events of last evening, and then they will answer any questions you may have. Agreed?”