Ehlren, shining in silver-plated armor, stepped up to the table, his chest barely cresting the edge, as he was short even for a dwarf. “General Ehlren Mergus of Ogtern Mountain,” he said with a brief bow.
“Ehlren, my friend,” Darius said, happier to see him than he imagined he’d be, “you’re certainly a sight. General now, is it?”
His deep, growling laugh harkened back to days of dirty taverns and shifty deals with merchants in need of mercenaries. “As much to the surprise of those girders in the dusty bowels of Ogtern as it is to me. Getting bloody in Orinda was worth its weight in diamonds, it seems.”
“As I recall, you were never adverse to a bit of blood, old friend.” Darius chuckled. As much as he wanted to hear his story of promotion, likely as not it wasn’t suitable for their current company. “But what’s dragged you out of your cave? I know how much you enjoy these gatherings.”
His brown eyes shifted to Arden, scrutinizing her closer than he’d seen anyone ever do to another person, but she never wavered. Arden was as curious about Ehlren as he was of her.
He cleared his throat and placed a wooden box in front of her, its intricate gold leafing catching the gleam of the small sapphires embedded in the lid. “I’ve been sent to present this gift to her ladyship from the Yar of Ogtern.”
Stunned, Arden reached out with tentative hands, running her fingers along the pattern on the box. “For me?”
Ehlren indicated the gift, prompting her to open it. “We present you with a Gordian dagger, used to slay the mightiest of the Void mages on the battlefield of Orinda Valley. The process of creating such weapons is lost to our people, but we present it to you that you might grow to match your husband in his ability to fight back the darkness. A kingdom is only as strong as those who watch over it, and we wish for you both to rule well.”
Shocked as much by his uncharacteristic eloquence as the invaluable gift, all Darius could do was watch Arden. She lifted the white-bladed dagger with such reverence and awe, he didn’t think she was breathing.
Without a word, she set it back in the box, pushed back her chair, and stood, the room falling completely silent as she walked around the table to stand beside Ehlren.
“If I may, would you accept a gift in return?”
Ehlren fingered the braids of his long, brown beard, uncertain of how to answer. “I… A gift in return, my lady?”
“I haven’t anything that’s nearly so precious, but I would give it all the same.” She set a hand on his shoulder and bent, leaving a small kiss on Ehlren’s cheek. “Please pass my gratitude to the yar, and to all your people who fought at Orinda Valley. Without their cooperation, Valentia would be lost.”
Darius had never, in all the years he knew him, seen Ehlren blush at anything, but a single kiss from Arden turned him redder than gems from the depths of dwarven mines. It was an immense struggle not to laugh.
“I… Yes, my lady. I’ll… Thanks. Yes.”
Arden smiled, blissfully unaware of the shocked faces of every guest in attendance, and returned to her seat. She either didn’t care, or hadn’t considered what the reaction would be to someone in her position showing such unabashed gratitude to a race outside her own, never mind the physical contact. Darius hadn’t thought it possible, but he admired her even more for it.
He shook his head, grinning, and turned his attention back to Ehlren. “Will you be staying at all? Perhaps tomorrow we could better catch up on things.”
Ehlren cleared his throat with a loud rumble, settling his ruffled composure. “I was due to head back in the morning, but I suppose one more day won’t hurt anything.”
Darius nodded. “Tomorrow, then, old friend.”
He snapped to attention and bowed again before making a hasty retreat.
“I didn’t startle him too terribly, did I?” Arden whispered from behind her napkin.
Lifting his goblet, Darius shook his head and put the wine to his lips. “He may not wash his face for a month, asahana, but he does love a good story to tell, so your gift will keep him busy for years to come.”
She choked a little on her water, her face flushed as she fought back a laugh.
“Something wrong?”
Immediately squelching her reaction, she pursed her lips and shook her head, her movements tight. “No, Highness,” she whispered. “Nothing at all.”
As wonderful as it was to see her so happy, it was worse knowing what was coming. Perhaps by the time he found a way to get her alone, he’d find the right words to avoid shattering her hopes.
Arden
The music, the dancing, the smiles and laughter… All of it was so wonderful she couldn’t imagine any day being more perfect. So many thoughtful gifts were presented over the course of the evening, she hardly knew where to begin expressing her gratitude. The gift from the dwarves had been especially moving. To present her with such a fine weapon, one invaluable from both a historical and material standpoint, was beyond anything she ever expected. And with Ehlren staying on at least another day, she might have another chance to speak with him in greater detail about his people.
The dancing was the most fun she had in a very long time. She spun and bounced across the floor in time with the music provided by superior players brought in for the occasion. Music had been in short supply during the war, and she greatly treasured it. She tried her hand at composition a few times, but while she grasped the concepts behind it, she was definitely lacking in actual talent.
An hour on her feet, trading from partner to partner, and she sorely needed air. Excusing herself from a heated conversation on the naming conventions of the seldom used roads in Tinedale, she snuck out through the nearest exit, which happened to empty out to the gardens. Others were there, creeping through shadows for an amorous meeting, so she went undetected into the night, finding a quiet spot of her own behind a large holly bush.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of cold night air, relishing the opportunity to preserve the feeling of the evening. She was so caught up in her own head she didn’t hear the footsteps until he was upon her.
“If my lady wouldn’t mind the company,” she jumped at the sound of the prince’s voice, “might I speak with you?”
She laughed. “You startled me, but no, I don’t mind the company so long as we aren’t away too long. Depending on how much wine she’s had, my mother will come looking for me soon, I imagine.”
He shifted nervously in the moonlight, and wasn’t nearly as jovial as he’d been most of the evening. His expression left her uneasy.
“Is something wrong, Highness? You look…” She tilted her head to one side, studying him. “You look as though someone’s died.”
Sighing, he shook his head and offered his arm. “Will you walk with me? There’s… something I feel you should know, should have known from the beginning, really, and I don’t know if I’ll get another chance at this.”
Deeply worried, she linked her arm with his, and he led her further away from the castle, off into a secluded garden with a bench where he bade her to sit. A sick feeling settled into her stomach, coiled like a snake waiting to deliver a killing blow. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
“Please,” she said, trying to contain her panic, “whatever this is about, just say it. Is it my father? Has something happened?”
He stopped where he’d been pacing. “What? No. No, nothing like that, it’s just…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then came to sit beside her, taking both her hands. “I want to give you a choice, but what I have to say is not likely to make it easy. First, I would tell you that I wish I’d met you two years ago. I think in any other circumstance, I could lose my head over you completely, and I want you to remember that. Especially after tonight, what I said about you is even truer now than it was in the gazebo. You would do wonders for this kingdom.”
She stared at him, trying to puzzle
out what he was getting at. A choice? If he’d met her two years ago? What was he talking about and why did it make her heart ache so?
“But I can’t in good conscience allow this to go forward without telling you all of it.” His gaze fell to their joined hands, his shoulders slumping a little. “Two years ago, I was a free man until I took a job scouting for the army. I had skills they needed, and they gathered others like me to head behind the lines of haegaroi, to locate their weaknesses. That was around when I joined up with Ehlren and Vennic, and how Duke Ingram caught sight of my birthmark, one carried only by the Marillion line.” He pulled back the collar of his shirt, revealing a red-brown starburst where his neck and shoulder joined. “That was also how I met an elven huntress named Naya.”
She was paralyzed, unable to look away, to cover her ears as she realized what he was saying. Her ability to speak gone, Prince Darius continued. “A group of us traveled together, a shadow unit. All of us put our lives on the line for one another every day. With Ehlren and Vennic, I formed fierce friendships. With Naya…”
Swallowing hard, she managed to find four quiet words. “You fell in love.”
As he nodded, he released her hands and stood, avoiding her eyes. “And then I discovered I was the last living nephew of King Ledas Marillion. After the war, the houses were at each other’s throats. It was either Ingram put me forward as heir apparent, or let Valentia tear itself apart from the inside. And with me as king…”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing all too well the pressures that came with a title. “They’d never accept an elf as a queen. I understand.”
“A week after the decision of succession was reached, that was it. Neither of us was happy about it, but we agreed it was better to end it. She left, and I haven’t heard from her since.”
Arden pinched her eyes shut, trying to keep her head from spinning. “But you still love her.”
Returning to the bench, he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “And so it’s now your choice, asahana. I won’t force you to marry a man whose heart lies elsewhere. If you wish it, I’ll find a way to call this off that spares you and your family any shame. You deserve far better than what I’m capable of giving you.”
A million thoughts whirled in her head. She considered her parents, and how long they’d been together. There was never any great passion between them, but it was a happy marriage, filled with loyalty and the comfort of being with a person who knew the other better than anyone could. They were partners in all things, but did they love in the sense Darius spoke of it? She doubted it, but neither would change their fates if given the chance.
“You’ve not said anything yet.” His face was etched with lines of concern, the scars on his cheek darker in the moonlight than she noticed during the day. The man undoubtedly cared for her, and she could see how much it pained him to tell her his truth. How many other men would be so honest in his position? And then there was all she might do as queen to a king who actually listened to her opinions…
“It’s… quite a lot to think about, Your Highness.”
“And there isn’t much time for you to consider my offer,” he said, gently squeezing her fingers. “And for that I’m also sorry.”
“There’s little for me to consider, honestly.” She freed a hand and touched his face, the stubble on his jaw prickly against her skin. “I thank you for telling me, but there’s no need to change what’s already been planned.”
“You’d marry a man that’s outright told you he loves another?” He stared in disbelief. “Why?”
She pulled away from him and stood, smiling as best she could. “There are different types of love in the world, kendala.” It seemed so fitting to call him such. “Wounded one” spoke to the deepest places she saw in his eyes. “Mountains are founded on cracks in the earth, and stand for millennia. Boats are built in a manner of days and easily sunk. Love can be a mountain untouched by time, or a boat on a sea of storms. I know which I’d ask for if given a choice. I’d rather outlast the shifting soil than be a fast boat waiting to be scuttled. I think you can find either if you’re open to them.”
She turned away, heading back towards the castle. He didn’t follow, but she was glad for it.
If she looked at him even once more, she was sure her tears would’ve drowned her.
Chapter 10
Darius
His head pounded, helped little by the knocking on the door of his study.
“Come in already,” Darius barked.
“Pardon, Your Highness.” A page stuck his head inside. “But there’s a General Ehlren to see you? He’s very insistent.”
“Let me through already.” The dwarf shuttled aside the boy and barged in without further argument, making sure to slam the door behind him. Darius cringed at the sudden noise. “Ha! Can’t hold your wine anymore, eh?” He laughed as he plopped down in a chair across the desk, his armor from the day before replaced by leather and linen.
“It was a trying night,” Darius grumbled as he reached for his water glass.
“Parties with politicians always are.” Ehlren chuckled. “Where’s Old Horsefeathers? Didn’t you say he’d be joining us?”
Before Darius could answer, the elf in question rapped once on the door before entering, not waiting for permission to do so. Vennic’s smile was much broader than Darius thought it would be to see Ehlren again, given their often tense relationship.
“Who let the child in?”
Ehlren stood, chest puffed out. “The same person that let a dung-rolled fairy in, I imagine.”
The two laughed before sharing a hearty embrace, which Darius likely would’ve been much happier about were it not for his headache, then took their seats once the pleasantries were out of the way.
“Careful for His Royal Highness’s delicate sensibilities this morning, Vennic,” Ehlren said with a wink. “His constitution’s none improved with this soft palace lifestyle.”
Rather than laugh at Darius’s misfortune, Vennic’s expression turned to concern. “Drinking heavily last night? Surely it wasn’t such a terrible party. I thought you were growing accustomed to them?”
Forgoing his water, Darius left his seat and poured a large amount of wine instead. “It turns out that honesty can drive a man to drink.”
Vennic groaned into his hand. “Oh, tell me you didn’t. At your engagement party? Do you have some unfounded hatred for the poor girl?”
He downed the wine, hoping it would chase away the worst of the consequences a night of drinking led to. “She had to know, Vennic, while there’s still time for her to avoid it.”
“What the devil are you two on about?” Ehlren asked. “Who had to know what? Who do you hate?”
“He told Arden about Naya.” Vennic’s tone held a disapproval Darius hadn’t heard since he told him he went after a dozen haegaroi on his own and nearly got himself killed.
Ehlren shot to his feet. “You did what, you brainless bintbug?”
“Stop yelling.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I’ve never claimed to be the smartest of people. It didn’t make a difference, anyway. She said she wants to go forward as planned.”
“Of course she does,” Vennic said, disgusted. “She’s rational and understands her position in society, and is also a much nicer person than you, so it would seem. Honestly, why would you do such a thing, at a party of all places? Were you trying to make her cry in front of the other nobility?”
Darius lifted his glass in cheers, as they hadn’t said anything worse than he thought of himself yet. “And hence my horrendous hangover this morning. I didn’t see that I’d have another shot at it before it was too late, and so…” He drained the goblet. “Further proof that making me king was likely a very poor decision on Ingram’s part.”
“Gods alive, did you tell him the news yet?” Ehlren flopped back down into his chair. “I imagine
not, as you haven’t been strangled where you stand.”
He retreated back to his chair with a refilled glass. “Astute observation. No, I have not. Probably best to keep it from him, as I don’t think he’d appreciate my attempts to free the Lady Arden from a miserable marriage.”
“What did she say about it, exactly?” Vennic leveled an icy stare at him, and he shivered.
“After sweetly calling me ‘kendala,’ she made a beautiful metaphor with mountains and boats that made me hate myself even more fervently.”
“She gave you an elvish pet name?” Ehlren shook his head. “What’s that one mean?”
He sighed. “Wounded one.”
Vennic crossed his arms, still glaring at me. “You’re a fool if ever there was one, Darius.”
He raised his cup in cheers once more. “And again we agree.”
Ehlren snorted. “You insult the girl by telling her you’re in love with someone else and don’t want to marry her, and she returns the favor with an endearing nickname? What do you intend as an encore, bintbug? Bring another woman to your marriage bed and make her watch?”
“That’s quite enough,” Darius growled at him. “I’m not purposely trying to hurt her, I just seem to muck it up at every possible opportunity.”
“That would be an understatement,” Vennic mumbled, then let out a huff of frustration. “So how do you intend to fix it?”
“Fix it?” That actually made him laugh. “As I’ve done such a phenomenal job of that up until now, it’s likely smarter I stop trying to do what I think is right and do what I should probably spend the rest of my life doing.”
“And what’s that?” Ehlren crossed his arms, looking at him as if he were actually a bintbug.
Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) Page 9