Paitra and Elena to either side of her, her parents behind her, they filed through the castle corridors. Music whispered through the halls, growing louder the closer they got to the grand ballroom. Already familiar with the space from the engagement party, Arden’s throat tightened a little, remembering her conversation with Darius that night. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to go in there free of that memory or the lingering hurt, but, like so many other things in her life, how she felt had little to do with anything.
The doors to the ballroom stood wide open, and for a moment she thought she might enter unnoticed. As soon as her foot crossed the threshold, however, eyes turned toward her even before the herald shouted her introduction.
“Light of Valentia, Promised to the Crown, the Princess Arden Tanarien! Accompanying her, Duke Magnus and Duchess Cora of House Tanarien!”
Not allowing her smile to falter, Arden mourned the loss of subtlety from the rest of her days.
As she made her way through, ten steps in, the crowd parted suddenly, all greetings cut off mid-sentence. Surprised, she looked ahead to see Darius walking directly for her, his strides long and full of purpose. He stopped two paces away and bowed to her curtsy, immediately offering his arm. She couldn’t say what, but something in the way he looked at her was different than before. The earthy rings of his hazel eyes were so focused on her face, so intent, she wasn’t at all sure what it meant.
“If you’ll permit me, asahana, may I show you to your seat?”
A fierce blush immediately shot up her neck, heating her all the way to the tips of her hair. Sure as sunrise she was a flushed and blotchy mess at a single word from him. Whispered in private, or where only trusted ears could hear was one thing, but with the guests tuned to their every move…
Swallowing her nerves, she went to set her arm on his, only to have him link them instead. Her feet turned into lead weights, and she looked over at him, blinking up into the light of the chandelier directly behind him. His hair burned like golden fire, and she couldn’t speak at all.
All of it happened in a matter of seconds, but she’d swear to any who asked that a full hour passed before she could move again.
Was it a game? A performance to set her at ease and forget his heart belonged to another? Did he hope she thought his mind changed, his emotions suddenly swayed to her as though all it took was the wind in the right direction? If his love was so easily altered, what trust could she put in him?
His speech at the coronation gave her pause. She hadn’t thought he was particularly fond of teamwork or partnership. If he meant what he said, perhaps he was not the closed off man she thought him to be.
“We should probably talk,” he said, disturbing her thoughts.
“Highness?” The squeak in her voice was positively mortifying, but he’d startled her.
He kept his voice low, the pleasant expression he wore unchanging as they wound their way around the clumps of guests. “As we walk. I don’t think either of us wants to let on how… complicated our situation is. You’re far better at this game than I am, so if you’d grant me a distraction, I’d be in your debt.”
His explanation cleared up her confusion on several levels. Admittedly, she’d been fooled by his outward appearance. “Your Majesty is far better at it than he thinks.”
He shot her a look, but she ignored it, instead taking time to nod at a few people they passed. “I think I deserved that, but perhaps we might speak privately later?”
They reached the head table, and he released her to pull out her chair.
“If you’ll forgive me,” she said as she sat, “I think perhaps tonight I’ll have to pass on that invitation. I prefer not to make a habit of allowing ill-timed conversations to derail me publicly.”
Darius pushed in her chair, taking the opportunity to lean in close. “I want to make amends for that, asahana. I hope you’ll reconsider.”
Despite being upset with him, the word sent a fresh wave of heated blood to her cheeks. Someday she’d find a way to guard herself against it.
Darius
Was it only the effects of the tiara that struck him so powerfully? More than ever, Arden commanded the room without saying a word. Even the color in her cheeks seemed to do her bidding, hitting Darius in the gut when he least expected it. The harder he fought to find her flaws, the more elusive they were. And while he didn’t generally care to upset anyone, he never really gave much consideration to it either way. With her, however, the sudden ice in her tone when he walked her to the table was a constant preoccupation for him all through the meal. No matter what he said or how he asked, she avoided any agreement to see him later. He understood her hesitation while the party was underway, but she didn’t give the impression she wanted to see him at all, never mind after their social obligations were complete.
It was in frustrated tedium that the evening wore on. Arden allowed him one dance, but one with ever-changing partners that gave him no room for headway with her. The night dragged on and on, filled with an endless parade of well-wishers and favor-seekers demanding their attention.
Even if she agreed to it, he couldn’t have stolen her away for a moment’s privacy.
By ten, most guests were either well into their cups or departing. Arden yawned once and her handmaiden, the one from Aerenhall, was at her side. She barely glanced at him while offering to see Arden back to her room, but in the moment his fiancée was occupied with standing and arranging her skirts, the auburn-haired elf looked at him with sincere understanding. In that fleeting space of time, he glimpsed an idea, a hope that perhaps he could gain a co-conspirator in his efforts to win back a measure of trust from Arden. The unspoken conversation vanished in an instant, and the elf left with her charge.
He didn’t linger too long after that. He had too much planning to do in the next few days and couldn’t afford another late night with too much wine. When sleep finally took him, his mind was filled with visions— memories— he tried hard to put behind him. Naya’s violet eyes found him in the fog of his dreams, her voice whispered to him in words he couldn’t understand, and even her laughter danced and dodged him. She would be there one moment, gone the next, her touch lingering with the chill of her absence.
He awoke exhausted, but still determined.
“If we take this route,” Vennic hunched over his desk, tracing chalky lines across the map, “it’s likely the safest way to get to the western stops on the tour. There’s the black shores here, a detour south to the monuments of Galanor Ridge, then northwest a day to Ogtern, and then…”
At his pause, Darius knew he came to the conclusion he’d reached two days prior. “The Ansere’th. Yes, I know. It’s all right to mention it in my presence.”
“You’re certain you want to go there? We could double back and visit the Jorai’i instead.”
Darius ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands into chaotic ruffles. “It needs to be done, Vennic. I can’t avoid it forever, and Arden will want to see the turning of the Blighted Sands. This whole trip is meant to be a way to move forward. I can’t do that if I’m clinging to the past. Besides, last you told me, Naya chose a different path, one that brought her outside her tribe. Likely as not, she wouldn’t be there.”
Vennic straightened and crossed his arms, dubious. “Are you willing to risk it if she is? It could spell disaster for not only the trip, but your marriage as well.”
“I keep my vows when I give them.” It was mildly insulting Vennic thought him so weak. “Naya and I agreed to end it, and we have. Nothing will change.”
“For her part, I’m certain, but yours…” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t doubt you. I apologize. I speak from a place of concern, not criticism.”
With a deep, fortifying breath, Darius picked up the chalk and made the last marks to the Ansere’th lands. “I know. I appreciate your council. Let’s discuss the route back. I t
hought a ship at Darkrock could take us back around, porting in Cartan. There are a few potential stops we could make on the way back here.”
“Such as?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I thought I might speak to Arden’s handmaiden to see what would be most appealing.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Which one?”
Darius groaned. “It’s terrible I don’t know her name, but there’s not been time for introductions. The one that came from Aerenhall.”
Vennic nodded. “Paitra, then. She’s Moth’hari.”
“I did remember that much. Do you think you could approach her for me? I don’t want Arden to suspect I’m plotting anything.”
Tilting his head to one side, he was already working out how to accomplish it on the sly. “I think so, yes. I can see to it this afternoon if you like.”
“Please.” He gave him a grateful nod. “Arrangements need to be made quickly as there’s not much time left.”
“I believe Elena usually brings the tea in the afternoon, but Paitra always takes a walk beforehand. Her route takes her by the stables when I’m sitting down to lunch. I should be able to flag her down then and send her your way.”
“Noticed her, have you?” Darius smirked.
“She sometimes brings apples for the horses. Don’t be ridiculous.”
He held up his hands in surrender, knowing how unwise it was to push Vennic on that issue. “Just an observation.”
His eyes narrowed. “Keep your observations to yourself, please.”
Laughing, he rolled up the map for use later. “Duly noted. Thank you for your help.”
Chapter 14
Arden
“She’s gone again?” She looked at Elena, frustrated. “It’s two days until the wedding. Paitra knows how stressed I am. Why does she keep disappearing?”
Elena shrugged. “I think she’s been running interference for you. I understand your reluctance to get caught alone with the king, but maybe you ought to consider smoothing things over with him before the ceremony.”
In the days since the coronation, Arden received requests from Darius at least once a day to speak with him. Each time she made excuses— everything from planning meetings to receiving one of the hundreds of guests staying for the wedding— but he was relentless in his pursuit. Once she’d even faked illness to avoid him, and Paitra was getting irritated.
“I know it’s childish to be this stubborn, but I’ve no idea how I should act around him. I’m a little worried I’ll say something I’d greatly regret, and that isn’t fair. Our situation isn’t really his fault, but his timing with the truth was terrible. I don’t want to be made a fool of by some act he puts on for the public.”
“You guard your heart now,” Elena said with a sigh as she pulled the hair back from Arden’s face for braiding. “I’ll admit that worries me. I think we’d not be friends if you’d been that way when we met.”
She smiled at the elf in the mirror. “I’m not so jaded as that yet. I’m happy to offer anyone friendship. It’s only him I’m careful with.”
After she finished, there was still no sign of Paitra, but her parents were waiting on her for lunch. As Elena and Arden left to join them, a young boy scurried down the hall to meet them, out of breath from running.
“Your Highness,” he said between gasps. “King Darius requests—”
“Tell him I’m busy at the moment,” she interrupted the summons. “I’m on my way to lunch.”
“But, he said…”
She set her hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled kindly. “Tell him where I’ll be and that he’s welcome to join us. If he gives you trouble over it, let me know and I’ll see he apologizes. Have no fear from it.”
The boy didn’t look happy about having to deliver the news, but ran off to see it done all the same.
“I certainly don’t envy that poor page,” Elena said. “He’s had to pass on your refusals four times this week.”
“And if His Majesty gives that boy any bother for it, better believe he’ll finally get his audience, though I don’t think he’ll enjoy that overmuch.” She sniffed a little before nodding at the guard stationed outside the dining hall. With a pleasant greeting and snappy salute in return, he opened the door.
Her annoyance level dropped severely at seeing her father’s smiling face already waiting for her. Her mother looked as pleasant as she ever did, but Arden knew the last minute plans for the wedding were causing her plenty of headaches. Madame LeVallier was working very closely with the duchess to ensure seating arrangements were as perfect as they could be, taking into account the various degrees of tensions between nobles, merchants, and the dwarf and elven emissaries that would be present. As Arden sat down, they went back to discussing food choices for the banquet, ignoring her almost completely. Instead, she chatted with her father about Maer, offering questions or solutions where she could. There was a problem securing new building materials, namely reliable tools and small, but crucial supplies like nails and screws, and prices for replacements were higher than was reasonable to expect for areas recovering from a war.
Shortly after the bread and soup arrived, the hall door opened with a powerful bang, startling them all. Darius marched into the room, his eyebrows drawn in an impatient scowl, as everyone but Arden scrambled to their feet.
“Do excuse the interruption, but I require the presence of my fiancée,” he said.
She slowly stood and smoothed out her skirts. “As Your Majesty can see, we’re in the middle of lunch. I’ll happily see you after we’ve—”
He stopped behind her and pulled back her chair. “You’ll forgive me if I doubt your use of the word ‘happily,’ as I’ve grown to dislike that word from all your other dismissals the past week.”
Her mother leveled a tight smile at her father, clearly displeased at the news Arden had been ignoring the king. “Dear, would you mind accompanying them? Madame LeVallier and I have much to—”
Darius took hold of her by the shoulders and guided her away from the table, gently, but firmly. “That’s quite all right, Your Grace. I promise to return her to you in the same condition she leaves in. No supervision required.”
“But—”
He stopped and met her mother’s disapproving scowl with one of his own. “I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from questioning the integrity of the king, Your Grace. A private conversation with the man she’s to marry will hardly besmirch the honor of your daughter.”
At her mother’s stunned expression, which matched hers moments before, Arden had to look away or risk a fit of laughter. With no more to say on the matter, Darius resumed the forced march to the exit. All she had time for was a helpless look at Elena before they were in the hall and en route to his study, and his arm linked with hers left her no options for escape. He didn’t say a word as they walked.
Inside the study, he finally released her, locking the door behind them. She was very displeased at being hauled away so rudely, but refused to let her anger get the better of her, holding her tongue and waiting for an explanation.
He leaned against the closed door and let out a small huff. “This is not the way I wanted to do this, but you left me little choice.”
“I’ve been very busy.” She crossed her arms, watching him.
“As have I, but I would gladly make time for you when asked.” He pushed away from the door, his shoulders relaxing as he approached. “I have my flaws, but I’m not irredeemable, asahana.”
That damnable word always made her drop her guard with him, and he took advantage of her ease in posture to guide her to the couch, still arranged as she’d done for tea that day. They sat there a moment, the silence between them awkward, but his expression changed when he seemed to decide on a course of action.
From inside his soft leather vest, he produced a small piece of parchment, folded in half. He
looked at it for a moment, considering whatever it was, before his gaze returned to her.
“I have a gift for you,” he said, placing the paper in her hand. “I hoped it would be both a peace offering and wedding present.”
Confused, she unfolded the parchment. On it was a list of places: an itinerary containing things she’d wanted to see for years but was prevented from by war or concerns for her safety as a young lady.
She lifted her eyes to his. “What is this exactly?”
“Our travel plans beginning in three days’ time.” With a sigh, he dropped his gaze and took her empty hand in his. “Despite everything, I do care for you, Arden. I listen when you speak, and I thought I might prove that to you.”
She glanced at the list again, noting a few stops that she’d never spoken of to another soul outside of—
“Paitra?” she said aloud, astounded her friend was involved. “This is what she’s been up to? Plotting with you?”
“Are you angry? I didn’t want—”
Wide-eyed, she stared at him. “Angry? No. Not at all. I simply didn’t consider…” She tilted her head, trying to read past his expression. “You went to all this trouble to arrange this for me?”
He grimaced. “Regardless of my shortcomings, I want you to be happy, Arden. I think you could be invaluable to this kingdom, but more so if your heart isn’t weighed down by troubles.”
Without realizing it, she’d let him suck her in again. Unexpected disappointment met her with his words, though why or how she dared to think it was more than a friendly offering was beyond her. She knew his heart; he told her in no uncertain terms what his feelings were. Why should she be disappointed at the confirmation?
Softly pulling her hand away, she turned from him to read over the list again. “It’s a very nice gesture. Thank you.”
“You don’t sound very happy.”
Swallowing her true feelings, she put on the brightest smile she could muster. “Oh, I am. I’m very excited for the trip. I’m just thinking about all the packing I’ll have to do. What sort of things do I need to bring? Should I be reading up on anything, maybe learning some dwarven words so I won’t be totally lost when we’re amongst them? And what about while we’re gone? Kingdoms don’t run themselves, and—”
Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) Page 13