“I’d give nearly anything to see elvish lands for myself. Have you, by chance, been to the Ansere’th holdings at all? Of all the tribes I know about, it’s the one I’d like to see for myself the most.”
His face instantly fell, and she knew she made some horrible mistake, though she couldn’t have said what her misstep was.
“I have.”
Those were the last words he said before wishing her good evening.
Darius
Darius shoved a small glass of Hiruvean whiskey at Ingram the moment he entered the study. “Save your reprimands, I’ve already told myself everything you’re going to say.”
He sighed and knocked back the liquor in a single draught. “What demon possessed you tonight?” he growled. “Arden did everything short of begging you for simple conversation, and the best you could manage were grunts and scowls?”
He refilled his glass. “I’m aware of my poor performance, but thank you for the reinforcement of my own evaluation.”
Ingram took the opportunity to beg a refill for himself as well. “It could’ve been salvaged, you know, but you let a single word toss you into that abyss of self-loathing again. The mere mention of Naya’s tribe mustn’t have that effect on you. If you shut out anyone who dares mention anything related to her, you’ll soon find yourself completely alone.”
Darius wandered over to the window and looked out at the darkened courtyard. “It was her that taught me that saying, you know. Do you think Arden is aware of my history?”
Ingram snorted. “You think she caused you grief on purpose? I hardly think so. Arden is nothing if not considerate. Did you not see how pink her cheeks were when she laid eyes on you? The girl would likely rather throw herself to hungry wolves than hurt you purposely.”
“Perhaps,” Darius murmured, replaying the night in his head. “Everything she said was very calculated, however. Why not that as well?”
His glass clinked as he set it on the desk to pour another round. “Calculated to be as safe as possible, not to wound. She behaved mostly as any gentlewoman would at such an affair.”
“Mostly?”
Ingram chuckled. “She’s young yet. Did you not see her small slips over topics when her tongue got away from her? She’s no idea what she should or shouldn’t say to you, so she treads as lightly as possible.”
“I’ve no head for these subtle societal cues, Ingram. You know this.”
Not responding immediately, he instead wandered over, leaning on the opposite side of the window. “I do, but I think even you could see how hard she was trying tonight. Would you give her that much?”
Sighing, Darius relented. “I’ve grown very suspicious of people the last few years, the nobility in particular.”
“Then my word that Arden is very different from the type of nobility you’ve come to know means nothing to you?”
He scowled. “Your word is everything to me, but she acts as they all do around me. I’ve not survived as long as I have relying on the assurances of others.”
The wind gusted up, rattling the glass in the panes as Ingram spoke. “Does she act as the rest? You may need to look closer.”
“I don’t follow.”
He swirled the whiskey in his glass, admiring the amber-colored liquid for a moment. “How many nobles do you know that speak fluent elvish?”
He made a short list in his head. “Four that I’m aware of, but one is Imperium.”
“And, of those, how many spoke about ensuring they had stock of something in the home their elvish employees loved, simply because they knew it was treasured?”
His forehead bunched as he considered the question. “What are you talking about?”
Ingram smiled and sipped his drink. “The lady said she made sure to keep Moth’hari tea at the estate because her elven handmaiden preferred it. Did you miss that?”
Kicking himself for being oblivious, he nodded. “I did. I suppose she did come off as rather taken with elves. She studies their genealogy, correct?”
“And convinced her father to send aid against the Torn Ones when they were encroaching on elven lands. Duke Tanarien told me in his letters how tenacious she was until he capitulated. Trade has flourished between Aerenhall and the Moth’hari ever since. The girl is as smart as she is kind.”
Admittedly, he’d not paid much attention to Ingram’s talk of Arden before. It was easier to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t actually happening. His judgment was clouded by thoughts of Naya. It was difficult to see beyond his own heartache.
“Do you suppose I’ve botched it completely then?” Darius said, cross with himself.
Ingram waved his glass, shrugging it off. “Doubtful. She’s a forgiving girl, but her mother less so. You’d do well to apologize tomorrow. Perhaps offer to take them on a tour of the grounds after breakfast.”
“I can’t say that’s particularly appealing. Arden is one thing, the duchess another.”
“Bah, she isn’t all that bad. And a reminder of your crown will likely sweep away any perceived slights for her part. I’ll come along as well, if it will make it easier for you.”
Knocking back the remainder of his whiskey, Darius relented. Even if he wasn’t particularly keen on the marriage itself, he had no desire to spend the rest of his life with a wife forever mad at him. “I suppose if we take care of business early, we’d not lose anything by it. Very well, then.” He set his glass on the desk and strode to the door. “I suppose I should get some sleep, as tomorrow is likely to prove a challenge.”
Chapter 4
Arden
“Surely it wasn’t so bad as all that,” Elena said as she swept the hair away from Arden’s face.
She’d been silent the entire evening after dinner, taking herself to bed despite her mother’s insistence she sit up and chat a while. The duchess wanted to discuss the disaster that was the meal, but it was all Arden could do not to cry.
“It was horrible. No matter what I said, he barely responded, and the moment I thought I got a foothold, he shut down entirely.” She swallowed back a round of tears before continuing. “I don’t know what I said that displeased him so greatly, but I can’t imagine it going much worse. I’ve never had so much trouble talking to anyone in my entire life.”
“He’s a reticent man in general, from what I’ve seen,” Elena said, pinning some curls in place. “I can’t imagine you messed it up so terribly. He’s a man with many walls around himself, all of them thickly built. Give it time, my lady, and I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions, do you?”
“As to what?”
She winced when one of the pins poked her scalp. “As to what I should talk to him about. What is it he’d find interesting? Last night, I thought I had something when we discussed my rune, but once I turned the conversation to him, it was like I’d thrown his wine in his face. What sort of man behaves that way? People are always most eager to talk about themselves before any other topic, I’ve seen it for myself in everyone I’ve ever spoken with. Why should he be different from any other being with even a modicum of intelligence? I can’t believe he’s such an outlier.”
Elena shrugged and pinned the last of the curls. “Perhaps you should content yourself with speaking of anything else but him, then. He seemed interested in what you knew of elven culture.”
She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. “I’ll not waste words prattling on about myself. I’m not so interesting as all that. Truthfully, the things I said about myself looked as though they bored him or completely upset him. He wasn’t keen on speaking of the war, either, though Duke Ingram did and it earned him no ire. I don’t know. I suppose I could ask the duke for advice, but I’m not overly comfortable confiding in him. Is there anyone else here who might know the prince well enough to have some suggestions?”
“I
’m not sure who…” She trailed off, startled by an epiphany. “Actually, I believe there is.” Her cheeks colored immediately.
Arden giggled. “Your response says much about the person you have in mind.”
She fluttered her hands about, waving it off. “Vennic, the horsemaster, is a good friend of Prince Darius, and I see them together quite a lot. If you speak with him, he might have a bit more insight for you.”
At the small measure of hope, Arden brightened immediately. “Do you think you could introduce us? I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m sneaking about with any of this. If he’s staff, I should get to know him anyway, yes?”
Elena’s face flushed even more, and she refused to meet her gaze in the mirror. “I suppose that stands to good reason.”
“Then you will?”
She shrugged a shoulder, fighting back a shy smile. “If my lady rides, perhaps wanting a horse this afternoon to explore the grounds a bit would be a good excuse to see him.”
A sharp knock on the door preceded her mother’s abrupt entrance. “Arden, it’s time for the morning meal. Are you ready yet? After last night’s debacle, I’d rather not cause any more problems by arriving late.”
Elena quickly made some final adjustments to Arden’s hair, and she stood. “Yes, Mother. All done.”
“Good. Let’s be off then.”
When she turned away, Arden shot a final look at Elena, silently asking for her support, which she gave with a smile and tiny nod of encouragement.
Again they were escorted to the dining hall, and again they were loudly introduced. That morning, however, they arrived before the duke and her intended, so there was no needless ceremony. A thick-fingered butler set her tea before her to tide her over as they awaited the rest of their company. Near the bottom of her cup, the doors opened once more to admit Prince Darius, smartly dressed in a dark leather doublet and gray breeches, as well as Duke Ingram, who looked as though he hadn’t gotten quite enough rest the night before. The prince bid them sit before they finished standing for his entrance, however, an odd efficiency she wasn’t used to amongst noble company.
“Do excuse our tardiness,” the duke said as he sat. “There was business to attend to this morning, and it took a bit longer than expected.”
“Business before breakfast?” her mother said. “I wonder if His Highness sleeps at all for how tirelessly he seems to work.”
It was brief, but she caught the barest of glances between the duke and prince.
“Yes, well I thought I might take the morning to show yourself and Lady Arden about the castle grounds,” Prince Darius said, shifting in his seat. “As a means of making up for my… reluctant conversation last evening. I’m afraid I was preoccupied with other things, and wasn’t at my best.”
Preoccupied? Was that what it was? She studied his face, and while he did look a little tired, she didn’t see any telltale sign of worry lines creasing his forehead or tense movements when he reached for his drink. Still, she didn’t know him well enough to think he might be lying, so there was little for her to do but accept his words as truth.
She sipped the last of her tea and set it aside, a server immediately whisking it away for a refill. “I imagine your duties are quite extensive, Highness. After a long day of such, I can see where idle chat over inconsequential things would be off-putting. I do apologize for being poor company for you.”
He glanced at her briefly, then smiled a little as he looked away. “You were hardly poor company, Lady Arden. The fault lies with the host, and I’ll not allow you to take the blame for my poor manners. I’m afraid I’m still adapting to the softer side of society.”
A small bowl of sliced fruit appeared before her, lightly sugared and glistening in the early morning light. “Anyone who’s spent any time at court would not be so quick to call it soft.” She started to chuckle, but paused with a fork halfway to her mouth when she realized what she’d said. Cringing, she refused to look at her mother. She already knew what look she was giving. “That is to say…”
To her amazement, the man actually laughed. She stared at him, bewildered by the sparkle in his eye. It was a genuine laugh, and not at all for her benefit. A quick look at Duke Ingram reassured her she wasn’t imagining it, as his wink spoke of approval she knew she wouldn’t get from her mother.
“I’m told my lady does have a different way of dealing with political matters,” the prince said. “I’m beginning to think what I heard was entirely accurate.”
Completely mystified, she wasn’t sure what he meant by that at all. “What was it you heard?”
He shrugged. “Well, for example, I was told you were quite vocal in your insistence on helping the Moth’hari defend against haegaroi.”
She desperately wished she hadn’t allowed Elena to put so much of her hair up that morning, as she was sure her ears were an unflattering shade of crimson. Nothing rattled her mother so much as a reminder of how she badgered her father into sending troops to the elves, mostly because of how unorthodox Arden was in that undertaking, but also how unfeminine her mother considered it. “I… Yes, Your Highness. Although my father could probably speak on that issue better than I could. It wasn’t without risk, but the rewards have been bountiful.”
“Are you always so involved in such matters?”
She weighed her answer carefully. If she appeared too aggressive, he might find it off-putting, but too meek and he’d think her spineless. “Not always, no, but I’ve not been privy to details of things quite so much as I was with that. When I have a task at hand, I’m very focused and do everything I can to see it completed.”
He hummed thoughtfully, and the conversation lulled, allowing her to eat without worrying over more words. Fruit was replaced by boiled eggs and bread before he spoke again.
“Your knowledge and involvement with elves is quite extensive, but what of dwarves?”
Her eyebrows bunched before she could reign in her tell of frustration. “They’re far more secluded, unfortunately. I’ve seen emissaries come and go from Aerenhall, but my exposure is very limited. I’ve studied their language some, but without anyone on hand to help, I’m rather lost on pronunciation. It’s a harsher language than elven, but I don’t think it’s outside my ability to learn it.”
“Well, I’d offer to introduce you to a friend of mine, but I’m afraid he’d be… unsuitable a conversationalist for a lady of the court.”
She bristled, unsure if she was more offended that he thought her overly sensitive, as the swooning nobility often were, or if he were insulting someone he called a friend. “And why would you think so?”
Duke Ingram coughed, interjecting himself into the conversation. “I’m familiar with the dwarf in question, my lady, and I agree with His Highness’s assessment. Ehlren might not upset you, but he has an aversion to high society dealings.”
“Not that I blame him,” Prince Darius said under his breath, likely not intending her to hear it.
Dabbing at the corners of her mouth, Arden used her napkin to hide her response. “Some wage war with axes and swords, others with whispers and words.”
The prince’s gaze rested heavy on her, but she ignored it, focusing instead on her meal to avoid second-guessing her choice of comment. She wondered if quoting a book of proverbs written by kings of old would impress him or not, but it was worth a try. She sorely needed to be seen as an asset to him, or else what a poor match they’d turn out to be.
Darius
She surprised him at every turn, which in itself was a huge feat. The longer he spoke with her, the more Darius realized perhaps Ingram was right about the Lady Arden being different from the type of noblewoman he’d come to expect. Where the evening before he dismissed her as another bland, twittering member of the court, by the time they walked the pristinely tended gardens, en route to the orchards, he was definitely revising his opinion of her.<
br />
“And you collect the samples for… what purpose?” he asked as they strolled the path dividing the cherry and apple tree groves.
Her shoulders tensed, her blue eyes darting back to the conversation between Ingram and the Duchess twenty paces behind them. “I… I study their different properties.”
He considered her reaction and decided to take advantage of a skill they had in common. If she was hesitant to say whatever it was in the open, speaking in a tongue their company didn’t understand might be convenient.
“Would it suit you better to speak about it this way?” He asked, his elvish only a little rusty after a few months of disuse.
She gave a small start, but smiled as her cheeks colored. “If you don’t mind. My mother doesn’t approve of some of my interests.”
Darius chuckled. “Then I’ll admit to being very intrigued by what this forbidden subject is.”
“I wouldn’t say forbidden, exactly,” she said, frowning a little, though she looked more frustrated than upset. “My mother is of the opinion that chemistry experiments are very unladylike. I try to appease her by explaining that it’s very similar to cooking, but she’s not any more excited about the thought of me working in a kitchen, either. My father disagrees. He tells me he didn’t marry Mother for her embroidery skills, but found her ability to read the intentions of other people fascinating. He placed more value on her mind than any of the feminine qualities she had in abundance. Despite what she says, I’m fairly certain that’s why she chose him over other men of higher station.”
“Your father does come across as having more good sense than most nobles,” he said.
“Well, he did eventually listen to me about the Moth’hari, so he’s not completely dense.” When she laughed, he couldn’t help noting how light and genuine it was. It had been a long time since he heard a sound like that, untouched by the violence of war.
“Chemistry, is it?” he asked. “What intrigues you about the subject?”
She tilted her head to one side, looking up into the cold, gray sky. “It’s a bit like magic, really. At least, from what little I’ve read on that subject. But rather than ancient incantations, you can create entirely new materials through the application of mathematics and experimentation. For example, did you know swords from Aerenhall are twenty-five percent stronger than swords from almost anywhere else in the kingdom?”
Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) Page 4