by Naomi Lane
Jenna wondered if she should do something, so she whispered to Aylin in Khazaric. “The Sevalian translator is having trouble with an old Khazaran expression, but I can translate it. I think it’s pretty important. Do you think I should help?”
Aylin, smiling, indicated to the Queen that she would like Jenna to help with the translation for the ambassador. The Queen signaled to the official translator, who walked over looking puzzled.
Jenna explained to him the situation, noticing the King and many others were watching, including the white-haired man.
The translator looked uncomfortable. “Miss, you are absolutely sure about the reduction in tariffs?”
Aylin chimed in, using her native tongue. “I am also familiar with the phrase. You can trust Jenna’s translation.”
The translator seemed satisfied and returned to the other side of the table. He pointed to Jenna when explaining the situation. The King’s response now seemed much more acceptable to the ambassador, who stopped frowning.
After this, Jenna was most pleased that she had been able to help and was about to return to eating, except before she could put her fork into her mouth, the King spoke. “Miss Mallory, where did you learn to speak Khazaric so well?”
Jenna put her fork down and looked over across the table. She saw two rows of anxious faces, including the King and Queen, all turned in her direction, awaiting a response.
“My father is mainly responsible, Your Majesty,” she replied, attempting to keep the quaver out of her voice as much as possible.
The ambassador was the one who spoke next. “Your father, Mr. Alexander Mallory, is well-known in Khazaran. I myself met him last year. I must ask if you know his intentions over increasing lumber exports next fall.”
As the court translator was speaking in Sevalian, Jenna quickly tried to think of a good response. She really didn’t want to speak in place of her father, but she also didn’t want to let the court down. Then she thought of her brother. “I really cannot say what my father intends. My brother, Peter, would know far better.”
“He is here at court too, is he not?” the King asked.
“Yes, Majesty, he arrived with me yesterday to train to be a knight.” After her words were translated, the ambassador nodded and spoke quietly with the King for a few minutes. Jenna began to wonder if she was now off the hook, but then the ambassador spoke in Khazaric.
“Miss Mallory, one last thing, does your father favor opening trade negotiations with the new republic?” Jenna was horrified. She wondered how the ambassador could expect her to answer such a question, but he looked deadly serious. When the King heard the translation he looked angry, and there were murmurs of surprise around the table.
The ambassador looked somewhat smug. Jenna remembered her father mentioning something before she left about the Khazars openly favoring trade with the new republic. It was known they were never on good terms with the old Tenarran Kingdom in the north. For instance, Tenarran universities had developed medical technology, cures for disease that needed no magic, but then refused to export any of it. Khazaran suffered more than Sevalia because it had far fewer mages.
People were quieting, waiting for her response. She gulped. “I suppose my father would say, as he often does, that trading partnerships are like marriages.” She paused. Most people at the table had quizzical expressions. She continued. “Partnerships between friends are always most pleasant, but partnerships based on need are always most fruitful.”
It would be many months before Jenna even appreciated the meaning of her father’s humor. She was therefore rather surprised when the entire table went silent and began to glare at her. Several court advisors shook their heads, looking angry. The Queen blushed and turned toward the white-haired man, who looked at her with a renewed piercing gaze, and Jenna saw for the first time he had eyes of brilliant violet. Jenna herself started to blush, still not completely understanding the reaction to the phrase, and wondering if she would now be sent home.
Except, just then, the King burst out laughing so hard it drew the attention of the entire courtyard. He indicated the translation to proceed for the ambassador, and he too began to laugh and even tipped his drink to Jenna who, feeling as if she had just dodged an arrow, just smiled meekly and began nibbling at her third course. The rest of the table, though still with shocked expressions, began to relax and slowly return to normal dinner conversation.
“Well, Miss Mallory, I admit I hadn’t expected this dinner to be so… interesting.” It was Lord Vermillion who spoke then. “What you said sounds just like your father. I’ve known him for years, but I admit I haven’t seen him in a long time. You mentioned your brother Peter. I recall you have another brother named after your father, correct? I remember him.”
Jenna remembered her promise to Peter, but could not stomach the thought of lying to a provincial Lord. “I’m sorry to report, My Lord,” replied Jenna, “that my brother Alex recently passed away. It was an accident about a month ago.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that. I apologize. I had no conception. Was it in Salara? I would think I would have heard something.”
“Uh, no my brother was in Khazaran at the time.”
“Khazaran?” Aylin spoke in Sevalian. Jenna assumed she must have finally calmed down enough to speak it again. “I not hear this. In Akkara?”
“Yes, Akkara, a boating accident.”
“I is in Akkara before we leave. I not hear of accident.”
“It could have happened after you left. My father was not forthcoming with the details. He… did not always get along with Alex before the accident.” At this admission, Aylin seemed to calm down some.
The dinner continued, and Jenna finally had some respite. Aylin began to speak mainly in Sevalian, and the King’s conversation had moved away from trade concerns. Jenna took the opportunity to enjoy the palace cooking. She had barely eaten anything up to that point and had always had a large appetite. Her mind began to recap her extraordinary day at court. Peter would be upset with her, but she still felt that it could have been far worse. She wondered if he were in the courtyard. The Queen mentioned she might see him at feasts. She began scanning around, but it was difficult to make out who was who from the high table.
“Looking for someone?” Lord Vermillion asked.
“Oh, just thinking about my brother Peter, My Lord.”
“Training to be a knight, eh?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll be training alongside my own son then, not to mention Prince Sebastian.” Sebastian was the youngest Prince. Jenna wondered how Peter would feel with such illustrious company. “You may not find it easy to see your brother tonight. Their training starts tomorrow at dawn, and they will want a good night’s sleep.”
“Will they ride, you think?”
Lord Vermillion smiled. “If it’s anything like my own training they certainly will. They will want to take advantage of the summer weather.”
At that thought, Jenna started to think about how urgent it was to speak to Peter about what had happened. She knew he would be especially worried about the weapons she had stashed in the linen chest. She began to form a plan to meet up with him the next day before her own classes started. Although it would be risky, she felt it was important. She told herself it had nothing to do with the black stallion, nothing at all.
Chapter 4
Early the following morning as the sun was just about to cross the horizon, a bricklayer took a brief rest from the West Wing restorations to wipe his brow and have some water. He was finishing up a night shift. The workers thought it easier to work by mage light at night on certain restorations to avoid the oppressive heat at midday.
As he was finishing his drink, he noticed something odd. A young boy he didn’t recognize was walking from the park toward the west end of the castle. His clothes were rather fine-looking to be a servant and certainly not proper servant livery. They did, however, look worn. His skin was darker than average, but children in t
he plains often looked darker in the summertime after spending a lot of time outdoors. What seemed most unusual was his hair. It was long and black. Long hair was becoming more common since Prince Eamon had grown his out, but black hair was less common in the plains. It was not unknown to Sevalia though and more common in the eastern provinces near the mountains. In the end, the bricklayer went back to his restoration work. There were just so many people around the castle assisting the West Wing renovations that the boy was most likely just new help anyway.
Had he looked closer at the boy, he might have noticed subtle hints that this lad was not all he appeared to be. Jenna was used to wearing her brother’s old clothes and running around with him and his friends, but she could not hide everything. Although she rubbed dirt onto her hands and face, her skin was slightly softer than it should have been since she normally applied fragrant oil to it after washing. Her fingernails were also slightly too long to be considered masculine, and had he looked really closely, he would have spotted the slight curve to her waist and hip.
In the end, she hoped it wouldn’t matter and that no one would give her much notice. All she wanted was to talk to her brother briefly before returning back to the East Wing.
She ducked inside the main stables for the first time. They were by far the largest she had ever seen. There were so many stalls that Jenna did not even try to count them, and though her nose still readily picked up the scents of horse and hay, she could see the stables were extremely well-kept.
She walked down the main aisle, looking for her brother’s horse, Rune. She reached out with her mind, sending out the image of Rune, trying to get a sense of where he could be. Then she got an image in her mind of herself and heard Rune toward the other end of the stables. She jogged over to him.
“Hello, Rune,” she said to the young bay gelding. Jenna’s father bought him from the Rahtani specifically to support Peter’s training. Jenna had not had the chance to ride him, but he still recognized her and sent her thoughts of welcome along with some confusion over being at the palace among all of these foreign horses. He sent her images of the desert with longing. Jenna sent him some apologetic thoughts, but then other images of knights on horseback in the woods and plains of Sevalia. He seemed somewhat puzzled by this, but also interested.
Just then, Jenna was startled by some noises toward the entrance to the stables. She quickly opened the door to Rune’s stall and hid inside, crouching low so she would not be easily seen. She heard an unfamiliar male voice say, “So, are you going to show me this horse of yours or not?”
“He’s just down at the other end.” That voice Jenna recognized. She slid down even lower as they approached and attempted not to breathe too loudly.
The other boy whistled. “Straight from the desert. You can tell by the curve of the neck. What’s his name?”
“Rune.”
“Peter, you are a lucky dog. My father had to wait for years to get his horse from your father, and it didn’t come cheap.”
“I know, but since Rune was meant for me it made things a little easier—only because of my grandfather, of course.” Peter started to release the latch and enter the stall until he saw Jenna. She smiled; he didn’t. Instead he let the latch re-lock and turned quickly to face his companion.
“Something wrong?”
“Uh, just remembered something,” replied Peter.
“You need to return to the dormitory?”
“No, just need to check on something in the tack room for a minute.” Peter led the other boy away from Rune, and she had a harder time hearing what they were saying. Eventually she heard her brother speak again. “Sure, V, I’ll be out to meet you soon.”
“Just don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
Jenna heard the sound of footsteps approach. Suddenly Peter glared down at her. “Jenna, what are you doing here? Are you out of your mind?”
“Hi, Peter. I just thought we should talk.” Jenna stood up. Peter rolled his eyes and turned away from her. “Was that Lord Vermillion’s son?” she asked.
Peter quickly turned back around to face her. “Yes. How in Heaven’s name did you know that?”
“He mentioned to me last night that his son would be trained as a knight.”
“Last night? You mean the feast?”
“Yes. Lord Vermillion sat across from me at the high table.”
“You were sitting at the high table?”
“Yes. You mean you didn’t see me there?” Jenna asked as Peter entered the stall. He took her arm, and they walked toward the rear wall where there was less chance of being overheard by a passerby. Jenna got the impression that Rune was amused at all the odd human behavior, but he continued to eat his breakfast.
“I was sitting nowhere near the high table. I didn’t think to look for you there,” Peter replied.
“I was called on to translate for Princess Aylin at the last minute.”
“Translate Khazaric?”
“Yes. I suppose all of our lessons will pay off.”
“Our lessons?”
Jenna realized she needed to tell her brother about her suggestion he participate in lumber trade negotiations.
When she finished, Peter’s mouth fell open. “They now expect me to assist with trade talks? That’s preposterous.”
“Well, what else was I supposed to do…? Oh, and don’t be surprised if the subject of trade with the northern republic comes up.”
“What? No! Jenna, tell me no one asked you about that.”
Jenna bit her lip. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just told one of father’s jokes in response,” she said.
“What joke?”
Jenna repeated the joke, causing Peter to turn toward the wall and lean his forehead against it. Jenna grew slightly panicked. “Don’t worry. The King laughed; it was all right.”
“Oh, Jenna.” He faced her again. He now had a weary expression. “It’s okay; you were in a tight spot. Father will actually probably like it if I assist the negotiations anyway. So this was why you needed to talk? To let me know I should brush up on my Khazaric tonight?”
“Well, no actually. I came to let you know about the weapons.”
“What about them?”
“You didn’t notice them missing?”
Peter grew wide-eyed again and started running his hand through his hair. “They haven’t given us full access to our weapons yet. I just assumed they were all in storage.”
“Well, they showed up in my luggage when unpacking.”
“What did you do?” Peter looked straight at her.
“Hid them in an empty linen chest in a guest bedroom. It was the best hiding place I could find around the East Wing dormitory.”
Peter sighed. “Okay, but promise me you will just leave them there.” Peter had his arms on Jenna’s shoulders and looked directly into her eyes when she replied.
“I will.”
“And no one knows about your magic?” Jenna’s eyes dipped away to the side, and Peter threw up his hands in frustration.
“Just a stable hand, and only about my ability to communicate with horses.”
Peter glared at her. “Just do your best to see that it stays that way.”
Jenna merely nodded.
“Look, I need to get going,” said Peter, running his hand through his hair once again. “Is there anything else?”
“No, really, except…” Jenna bit her lip on the other side, remembering her discussion with Lord Vermillion about Alex. She told Peter. His expression went blank. “What was I supposed to do?” she continued. “Lie right to the face of a provincial Lord?”
“No, of course not. It’s merely… unlucky.” There was a pause. Peter sighed again. “I do need to get going.”
“I’ll head back to the East Wing then.”
“Gods, if anyone sees you dressed like that-”
“It should be okay. I have Bree tied up in the park, and I have a dress I can put on over this once I get b
ack to her.”
“Good. Go straight to Bree then. And once you are back with the Ladies, please, please just speak only when spoken to, and keep your head down and nose out of trouble. No more sneaking around like this.” He led her out of the stall.
“Good luck,” said Jenna.
Peter actually managed a half smile. He gave his sister’s shoulder a slight squeeze and headed out toward the west exit. Jenna headed over toward the east side where she had entered then stopped. An image of herself riding Bree appeared in her mind. It had to be the stallion. He must have sensed her presence somehow, which was odd for a horse she barely knew. His mind tugged her towards the southward direction. She looked for a door and found one near where she had entered. It led into another area of the stables with fewer stalls, and she heard a familiar neigh.
Jenna jogged over to the stallion past other horses with desert blood, horses that also must belong to the Crown. When she reached him, he sent her a flood of warm thoughts. “Hello, beautiful,” she said, smiling. She stroked his forehead and his neck. He sent her an image of herself riding him astride, and she laughed.
“Who is there?” Jenna whipped around, suddenly in a panic. Her first thought was to run out toward the east exit, but there stood a man blocking her way. He walked up to her, muttering to himself. Jenna could only pick up something like, “noble boys… no respect… every year.” She stood frozen, trying to think up an excuse or a plan. Instead the man grabbed her arm before she could speak, and the stallion whinnied in protest. “Come along then. Lord Nigen will have your hide for being late.”