The magiker returned the gesture with a nod or maybe it was the palsy. He raised shaking hands up towards the sky. “I invoke the Goddess, mother of all, that she look down upon this union and bring favor upon it.” He looked at us. “Children of the sea, stone, and sky, do you swear yourself to bind your lives here and into the hereafter?”
“So I swear,” Jon replied.
I hesitated; the words had run dry. I cannot do this. Even in disguise. Even if it is a lie. I am making an oath to the goddess to bind my life to this man, and I do not love him. Marriage should be a lasting commitment born of devotion not gain. Jon squeezed my hands, and I glanced up to meet his dark eyes.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
Was he reassuring me that our farce would not be heresy? Or reaffirming my choices? Whatever his intention, it was the push I needed.
“So I swear,” I repeated.
“Bring forth the chalice,” the magiker said and waved the Daughter of the Earth over.
She stood before us and smiled. She had kind brown eyes, and her skin was darkened by the sun to a rich golden color. “Together you drink from the cup and you are as one. From the stars above to the earth below, to the sea of the east, to the winds that blow through the plains to the west, so forevermore shall you be of one body and mind.”
She nodded and stepped forward to hand us the cup. I took it first and sipped the bitter wine within. I then passed it to Jon, who drank from it. Before he handed it back, she pulled out a satchel and dipped her forefinger into it. On her fingertip was something dark that looked like ash. She smudged it on our foreheads.
“Go forth, the mother’s children,” she said and took the cup from us.
“May your union bear fruit,” the magiker invoked, continuing the Danhadine tradition.
“Gladly,” Jon said.
I blushed and peered at Johai from the corner of my eye.
He was holding onto the stave with a grip tight enough to snap it in half. He stepped forward and shoved it into Jon’s awaiting hand. “May you remain steadfast in your devotion to one another,” he said through gritted teeth. I looked down at the grass beneath my feet. I would rather not have him here to witness my false union, but he had insisted.
Now came the final ritual, the binding of the hands. My heart beat a little faster; there truly was no backing out now. The magiker shuffled forward, the ivory rope dangling from his outstretched hand. We presented our clasped hands to the magiker.
He wrapped it around once. “For fidelity.” He executed another turn around our hands, and my palms were slick with sweat. “For faith,” his voice chanted. Another turn. “Your souls shall become one.” A final turn and one loose end dangled between us.
The magiker held his hands up to the sky once more. “Goddess, bless this union, keep these young people, and let them know the depths of love.” He reached out to tie the final knot, making us husband and wife. Rain pattered on the stones and ran in thick drops. My veil clung to my face. Then the skies unleashed a downpour.
“We should head inside,” I said.
Jon, with our hands interlocked, pulled me under his arm and led me inside. We were all soaked to the skin by the time we entered the hallway that led to the garden. Pools of water gathered on the marble floor. The final knot had been left undone. I glanced down at it, thinking it an ill omen, but said nothing of it.
Jon smiled at his guests, who were mumbling about the weather. “The Goddess has blessed our union. Let us celebrate. Please join us for a banquet.” He motioned down the hall, and the guests shuffled down that way. As they were filing out, Jon grinned down at me. He pulled back my veil and looked at my face. “I hardly recognize you.”
“That is the point,” I replied.
“Well, why don’t you change into something dry and join us?” He unlooped the rope and pulled away.
In a normal ceremony we should not have been untied until our marriage had been consummated. I looked down to my free hand. “Thank you.” I frowned before heading upstairs.
After changing into dry clothes, we dined in the same hall in which I had performed as the lady of the waters. Dinner was as tense as the coach ride had been. Johai and Beau joined us, but neither deemed it necessary to speak. I notice Johai hardly touched his roasted lamb, and Beau ate quickly and then excused himself from the table. Jon, on the other hand, was in good spirits, jesting with some of his men-at-arms, who laughed and joked about the wedding night.
I chased a roasted potato around my plate with my fork, and anything I brought to my lips tasted flavorless. Jon drew me into conversation more often than not, and I tried my best to appear a bride in love. That was the trick. Now that the ceremony was over, I needed to seem besotted lest someone catch on otherwise.
“Servants talk, as do guardsmen,” Jon had told me as we made our plans. “A sudden hasty marriage will most likely garner suspicion, and that will be our bait.” He had smiled when he told me that.
Now he filled the cup of the captain of his household guard, and the soldier beat him on the back, nearly spilling Jon’s wine. My head pounded, and my mouth hurt from the forced smile I had been wearing all night. Johai was watching me from across the table, and I found my eyes drawn to him more often than not.
He stood up, and his chair screeched along the floor. A few eyes glanced up at him. “I need to retire,” he announced. “I wish the couple a blessed union.” Johai bowed at the waist and hurried out of the room.
Jon reached across and squeezed my hand. I whipped my head in his direction, expecting some sort of knowing smirk, but he was frowning slightly. If I had been a bit more naive, I would have thought he was concerned for me. I knew better than that. This was all a ruse. We each had a goal, and this marriage was a means to an end.
“I think the night’s revels have taken their toll on me as well,” Jon announced. “If you do not mind, my distinguished guests, I will retire to the marriage bed.” He winked, and his men whooped and hollered. They were all deep in their cups, and they shouted colorful things that I cared not to repeat.
Jon helped me to my feet because I could not do so on my own, and with his hand on my waist, he led me out of the room. The guests followed, as was tradition. They threw flower petals over us and shouted congratulations. Jon opened the doors to his chamber, and I went in before him. He stopped at the door and turned to face his guests.
“Thank you once more, and have a good evening. You may stay as long as you like and enjoy my hospitality and my wine.”
The men shouted in response. The doors closed with a heavy thud, and Jon turned around to lean against them. He crossed his arms over his chest, and I did not like the way his eyes lingered on me.
“I will remind you of our agreement. And that I am not your true wife, and if you thought to take more than I am willing to give, you are sorely mistaken.” My cheeks were burning from my embarrassment.
“I never presume to take anything not willingly given,” he said, and he did not smirk at me this time. “I thought you would like to be away and to rest.”
I furrowed my brows, expecting some sort of trick. “Very well. I shall see you on the morrow, then.”
“It would be best if I stayed, at least for a while, for appearances’ sake.” He walked over to a wing-back chair that faced the fire and sat down.
I stood, torn between him and the bed, afraid to let my guard down in case he planned to take advantage, despite our contract.
“Are you going to sit, Duchess Sixton?” He grinned at me, and I stomped over to the chair across from him.
I folded my arms in front of me and stared past him to the flickering flames of the fireplace.
He sighed. “This is not how I pictured our wedding night.”
I scowled at him. “You knew I would not…” I couldn’t get past the words.
He laughed. “You’re not even a little bit tempted?”
“No.”
He laughed harder. “I am teasing you, Maea. Y
ou do not have to fear me. I may not look it, but I am an honorable man. My mother’s teachings were not in vain.”
I was determined to be cold to him. There was no need for us to be friendly to one another, but since we were stuck here together for what seemed the entire night, I asked, “Why did you not wait for your mother to come to the ceremony?”
He smiled, but it did not light his eyes. “My mother passed several years ago.”
“Oh, I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is of no consequence.” He waved away my apology.
I was silent for a moment before I asked something I had wondered for quite some time. “Your mother, she was Neaux?”
He nodded. “Yes, she was.”
“And your father…?”
He shrugged. “Some Danhadine man, I suspect, I never knew him.”
“But you were the heir to House Sixton.”
“Not by blood right, my mother was the daughter of a Neaux merchant. She met the duke after the war ended when I was five or six years old. He took us in and raised me as his son. He even claimed me as his bastard when his true-born sons died in the war.”
“Oh, and he left the duchy to you?”
“Yes, my grandfather saw to that.” His expression had closed off, and he stood up and walked to the fireplace with his back to me. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”
I wanted to ask him more, but I didn’t. “I’m not sleeping while you’re here.”
He grinned at me. “Well, there are other things we could do.”
“I would rather not.” I stormed to the bed in a huff. I jumped in and pulled down the curtains and closed off the room beyond.
I heard his footsteps fall across the stone and then the door opening. I peered out of the curtains just as he closed the door after himself. Strange. I closed the bed curtains again and lay down, still dressed in my gown. I fell asleep not long after and enjoyed a dreamless night for the first time in a long while.
In the Neaux tradition, we went the following day to be presented at court. Jon, being half Neaux, followed the old traditions of his mother’s people. Though he was of no respectable rank by birth, his position in court as the Danhadine ambassador granted him an audience with the queen.
I was nervous about my return to court. Though I had changed my appearance in entirety, I still felt an irrational fear of being discovered. In a stark contrast to my first visit to the Palace of Mirrors, we were allowed through the front gates and greeted by amiable servants who took our cloaks and sought our comfort. My stomach was a ball of nerves. This was my first crucial step to finding answers about Sarelle and saving Johai. The impression I made today would set the tone for my time spent here in Sanore.
We entered the audience room, a grand chamber swathed in heavy tapestries on the stone walls. The queen sat on her throne, her dark curls coifed elegantly. To her left a man with cropped black hair and calculating dark eyes set beneath thick brows watched us as we approached. We bowed before her.
“Your Majesty,” Jon greeted the queen, “I am humbled by your presence, and I wish to present my bride to you, Duchess Aoife Sixton.”
She smiled at the pair of us and pointed with a gilded scepter. “Rise.”
We stood before her, though I kept my lashes lowered and glanced from the corner of my eye, watching for something, any indicator of intrigue or a piece to the greater puzzle.
“You are not born to this,” the queen said to Jon, “but you honor the old traditions. I admire that.”
She swept her gaze over him and then to me. I could feel her assessing gaze. I tried to portray a picture of innocence, but a sinking feeling swirled in my gut. “Duchess Sixton, I would love to have you visit us in the palace. It amuses us to have more Danhadines about since my youngest daughter is now their queen.”
I looked up and met her gaze for a moment before looking back at my feet. I hoped I appeared shy and not too timid. “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”
“Good, I will send word soon with an invitation. You are dismissed.”
We bowed and turned to exit. As we were exiting the hall, I spotted someone shifting in the shadows. I only caught the barest glimpse of a gown as it turned a corner, but I knew for certain that we were being watched.
When we left the audience hall, a woman in a bright pink gown descended upon us. Her sleeves were so voluminous that they made her shoulders appear twice as large, and her lips were painted with rouge, and her curly hair teased high up.
“Duchess Sixton!” she called to me in heavily accented Danhadine.
“My lady.” I bowed as if I were addressing an equal and glanced at Jon for assistance. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say he was not familiar with her either.
“I had to introduce myself. I am Countess Lorelle, of the family Theene. I heard rumors that the new ambassador was taking a wife, and I said to my companion, Hilliard, that I must introduce myself or I shall never forgive myself.” She pressed a fat hand to her chest as she spoke.
“Oh, well…” I was not sure what to say.
“I know the queen has probably asked you to come around to the palace soon, but she tells all newcomers that. If you truly want to be seen at court, you must come to my villa a few nights hence for dinner. I must hear all about your love affair.” She pulled out a fan from her bodice, snapped it open, and fanned herself with it. “It is well known anyone I associate with has access to the most exclusive circles here in the palace.” She peered at Jon over it with narrowed eyes.
“We would be honored, Countess,” Jon said smoothly.
“Good, good, I shall have cook prepare some Danhadine dishes to make you feel more at home.” She winked. Then she looked over my shoulder and exclaimed, “Lady Beltroph!” She turned back to me. “Excuse me. I must speak with Lady Beltroph.” She bustled by, and as she walked past me, I spotted a familiar face.
Hilliard walked past without making eye contact with Jon, but I knew it was him. I watched him go and contemplated chasing after him. Why was he with the countess? Where was Damara? I had not seen her since the night of the royal performance with the troupe, and Jon had heard nothing of her either. It was as if she were a ghost hanging about the shadows of the palace.
I looked to Jon to see if he recognized Damara’s head guard, but he did not seem to register the face.
“I recognize her name, but we have never had the acquaintance before,” Jon whispered to me, and his hot breath on my neck made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “She is an infamous gossip. Nothing happens in Sanore that she does not hear whispers of.”
“Oh? I believe she is your neighbor. I saw her out on her balcony the first time I came to your home.” I gave him a poignant look, and I hope he caught my meaning.
He laughed. “It is fortunate she did not recognize you, then, or you would have your own reputation to live up to.”
Lucky indeed, I thought. Or perhaps not. If she has Hilliard, she may also know where Damara is.
The countess was speaking animatedly with another woman with a long face who appeared to have little interest in the countess’ company.
“If anyone knows what happened to Sarelle, it will be her.” Jon nodded in their direction.
It would not be that easy to find out why Sarelle died, but at least I knew where to start.
Chapter Twelve
“Countess Lorelle is one of many widows from the war between Danhad and Neaux. Until a six-month ago, no one knew much about her,” Jon said with a triumphant smile.
“What happened six months ago?” I asked. I peered up from a stack of books on genealogy as I referenced the list of names Jon had given me. Each name on his list had been from high-standing families and members of the royal council.
Jon took a seat across the desk from me and leaned forward on the polished wood.
“She spread a rumor about Queen Celeste and her pet lord, Eeland Yette, he’s a minor lord with a lot of ambition. He’s risen quickly in t
he council in recent years, it seems, and he is often seen in the queen’s company. The countess pointed it out, and it seemed she made quite a few enemies.”
“Interesting.” I frowned and puzzled through the revelation.
“Wait, that’s not even the best part.” Jon stood and held his hands up. “She’s also very rich. She controls lands northwest of the palace that are rich in farmland, from which she makes a very healthy income.”
“Why does it matter if she’s rich?” I scowled at him. He probably is itching to get her in league with him as well. I suppose some people only crave power.
“Her wealth is a draw to many, and her suitors are… numerous, but—” He held up his finger for dramatic effect. “It’s said she has turned each one away, after a time. The rumor is that she has sworn to love no other man than her late husband.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked.
His grin widened. “I have my ways.”
I frowned and looked down at the parchment on the table. Countess Lorelle had arrived in Sanore after years away from court and had immediately set her sights on the queen. Either she was very brave or very foolish.
“We’ll need to leave soon,” Jon said. “Intrigue does not wait.”
He headed for the door, and I watched him leave, contemplating his motives. Is he in it for the power, or is it something more? In our short time together he had given me no cause not to trust him, but I kept him at arm’s length just the same. He was a means to an end, no more.
I dressed, assisted by my maid. She braided my chestnut hair and twisted it into a crown on top of my head. It was simple and elegant. It fit the persona I had crafted for myself as Aoife Sixton. I wore a cream gown with gold stitching and small glass beads arranged like a sunburst along the bodice. It was a gift from Jon. He had bought it for me after we had been invited to the countess’ villa.
I went down the stairs to await Jon. Johai was waiting in the foyer, wearing his new livery. It was black and fitted at the waist and shoulders. He turned to regard me as I came down the stairs, but it was as if his eyes went right past me.
[fan] diviners trilogy - complete series Page 40