by Erin Beaty
“Don’t you dare,” Casseck told Alex as he made for the steps to the top of the outer wall. “I’ll handle it.” Alex leaned on Sage, nodding gratefully. “I think I can convince them to stand down,” Casseck said. “But we should prepare to fall back.”
“Who’s their leader now?” asked Sage.
“The count may be with them,” said Alex. “But this must be the army they gathered.”
“Tell them D’Amiran’s dead,” she said.
“I’ll tell the riders,” Cass said with a shrug, “but I’m not sure whether it will get the troops to turn back. The closer they get, the less likely it is they’ll leave.”
“Hang D’Amiran’s body from the keep,” said Alex. “That was his preferred method of dealing with former allies. I’m sure they’ll get the message.”
* * *
Alex was walking in the garden on the fifth day and trying to convince Sage he was well enough to go on a patrol when the sentries sounded the approach of riders.
“Do you think they’ve come back?” she worried as they made their way to the inner gate. The troops had melted away after two days of surrounding the fortress, but everyone was on edge, waiting for them to reorganize and return.
The signal for all clear sounded. “I’ll be damned,” Alex said twenty minutes later as his father rode in at the head of a rider company. Sage followed but stood back several paces as he saluted the general and formally presented command of the fortress.
General Quinn looked around the wrecked ward in amazement. “I feel quite a report is coming.”
Alex nodded. “Yes, sir. But first I ask that you accompany me to the chapel.”
“The chapel?” his father said sharply. “Why there?”
Alex couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but his father read it in his face.
“Charlie?” he whispered.
Alex nodded.
“Take me to him.”
The general walked beside him silently until they reached the chapel, and Alex stopped and let his father take the last few steps alone to stand before the smallest of the three coffins laid out. Alex had no more tears left. On the third night, he’d managed to describe his brother’s last minutes to Sage alone, and she held him as he was sick several times and cried for hours. She’d taken care of Charlie’s body, cleaning and dressing him and clipping a lock of his hair for their mother.
Now Sage stepped forward. “I can open the casket for you, sir,” she offered.
The general focused on her for the first time. She wore a plain wool dress, and her sandy hair was plaited in a single braid down her back. Most of the swelling in her face had gone down, but he blinked at the colorful bruises across her cheek and forehead before turning back and placing his hand on the coffin. “No, thank you, my lady,” he said. “I prefer to remember him alive.”
Sage nodded and backed away, but Alex reached for her hand and drew her forward again. “Father, this is Sage Fowler.” She bit her lip and looked down as she blushed.
The general’s eyes dropped to their linked fingers. “I’ll take that report now, Captain.”
Alex led his father to the keep and the chamber they’d taken for a strategy room—the old Great Hall. The ladies were now housed in the rooms above, and most of the soldiers slept in the infirmary below. His father paced the room while Alex rested in a chair, flexing his left hand and admitting to himself he still had a long recovery ahead of him. It took over an hour to describe all that had happened, but he laid the credit for their success at Sage’s feet.
When Alex finished, his father filled him in on what had happened in the south. “The Tasmet brides’ escort vanished a week after you left,” he said. “I knew something was wrong, but I thought it had more to do with the pass in the south. We took a full regiment to Jovan, and the count disappeared right about when we stopped hearing from you. I feared the worst.”
“Is that why you were already halfway here when the river flooded?” Alex asked.
His father snorted. “Patience isn’t always a virtue.” He paused in his pacing. “I’m proud of you, son.”
“It wasn’t just me.”
“You said that. But I also know you.” He leaned his fists on the table. “You made some hard decisions.”
Alex swallowed. His father had no idea, and he never would. And D’Amiran’s taunts had no place in the official record. In the end, they’d been meaningless, empty. But Alex did have one thing he wanted to ask. “The duke said a few interesting things before he died. About you and Mother.”
“Really?” His father looked surprised. “Like what?”
“He said you stole Mother from him.”
The general sat down across from him, but said nothing.
“Is there a story behind that?”
His father looked at his hands. “Did your mother ever tell you she was picked for the Concordium?”
“Not that I can recall. I never considered it, seeing as I was born a year before one rather than a year after.”
“Well, she was, so I can assure you she wasn’t promised to anyone.” The general paused. “We met at the celebration of her sister’s engagement to the king. Everyone was making a fuss about her, too. Because of her family and her new connection to the royals, she was expected to be the most desirable match at the next Concordium.”
That surprised Alex. “I didn’t realize you knew her beforehand. I thought it was purely political, even though it was an off year.”
His father shrugged. “Most people did. That suited us just fine.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He smiled a little. “I was smitten.”
“So you bribed a matchmaker to put you together?” said Alex.
His father looked down at his hands again. “We may have done a few things that made matching us necessary to prevent scandal.”
The union of two powerful families was so rarely about love that Alex had always taken his parents’ marriage for granted. Ironically, it was the affection they had for each other that had made him fear matching—he could never be as lucky as they’d been. That they were as much a love match as Sage’s parents stunned him.
His father cleared his throat. “This Fowler girl…”
“Her name is Sage.”
The general looked up. “This Sage. What are your intentions?”
“I intend to marry her.”
“Is there a reason you must marry her?”
“Because I love her, and I will have no other.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant, Father.” Alex looked at him squarely. “The answer is no. But if you try to stop me, I’ll make sure there is.” He raised an eyebrow. “And now I know there’s precedence for it.”
“Relax, son, I like her. I just needed to know what to tell your mother.”
90
SUPPORT POURED THROUGH the Tegann Pass two days later, and the bridal group prepared to continue on to Tennegol. Alex was tied up in meetings, though he often slipped away in quieter moments to the tiny chapel near the burned-out armory. Clare was surprised by Sage’s sudden inclination to go there to pray, sometimes several times a day, but when she discovered why, she and Lieutenant Gramwell developed a new sense of piety as well.
Once they left the fortress, however, Sage rarely saw Alex. Had it not been for his injuries and Charlie, she suspected he would’ve been sent after the count or the Kimisar soldiers now raiding Tasmet, so she forced herself to remain satisfied with occasional glimpses of him as they traveled. At one point, she started to worry Alex might forget her, but the next night she found a note tucked into her trunk. The contents made it clear he hadn’t forgotten any promises whispered in stolen moments.
Their arrival in Tennegol created quite a commotion, as news had traveled well ahead of them. The escort received a hero’s welcome as they paraded through the city and up to the palace gates, though none of them were in the mood for celebration. Alex and his fathe
r stayed only one night, spent mostly in conference with the king and his council, and early the next morning they left for Cambria to take Charlie home. Alex did find time to write Sage another letter and departed with her reply tucked in his jacket.
* * *
Sage and Darnessa had only one week left before the solstice, when the Concordium weddings traditionally took place, so they got straight to work. Though the dominant concern was keeping the country stable, especially now, heavy weight was given to what was best for each individual girl. Every morning and afternoon, all three apprentices present were kept busy recording diagrams of compatibility and the political advantages of each possible pair.
Despite the reduced time, the process went smoothly. As the ladies’ guardians had relinquished their consent to the matchmakers, most outsiders assumed the brides had to accept whomever was chosen for them. In truth, the women were allowed to turn down their match, ironically giving them more power than they would have had outside the Concordium, but such refusals were rare.
Sage listened in amazement as the matchmakers predicted (with accuracy, she had no doubt) which noble families would be granted the forfeited properties and titles in Tasmet and matched women to them accordingly. The women in that room played the nation’s strings of power like a quartet of musicians, creating a balance of power that had served Demora well for over two hundred years.
In the evenings over tea, the regional matchmakers traded information for the future in a more casual setting. The most talked about men were the now famous escort officers, and the women pushed Darnessa to approach Captain Quinn for his thoughts on committing to a long engagement. She deferred their requests as Sage flushed over her ledger, saying with the recent death of his brother, it would be inappropriate to address just now.
Despite the reduced time, the deals went smoothly, due in part to the lack of representation from Tasmet, and several additional pairings were lined up for the near future. Even Gabriella Quinn was matched in her absence, as she’d returned home with her father and brother, though her wedding was postponed until at least winter.
Three days before the grand ball and ceremony, Sage received a visit from Prince Robert, who asked if Darnessa could spare her for an hour or two. Feeling flustered, she took his arm and let him lead her around the palace. She suspected he took her through the garden past nearly all the brides lounging about, just to make them stare. They chatted casually, and Sage found him a merry fellow with a streak of recklessness. He looked distractingly like Alex, except in the eyes.
After a few minutes he shared some news. Lieutenant Gramwell had heard from his mother that morning, and she’d agreed to accept Lady Clare into her house. “Mistress Rodelle will be working out the details.” He smiled. “I think Luke is telling Clare now, but then he’ll have to break the news he’s leaving in four days.”
“Have you heard from Alex?” she asked.
“He’ll be back soon,” Robert replied, looking slightly guilty. “But in the meantime, there’s someone who wants to meet you.” They’d stopped in an unfamiliar section of the palace. He knocked and then opened the door to a small library. A balding, fortyish man with Robert’s cheerful hazel eyes stood from his seat by the fire. “Father,” said Robert, “may I present Mistress Sage Fowler of Garland Hill?”
The king smiled, and she curtsied and kissed the offered hand, blushing scarlet.
“Mistress Sage,” he said kindly, gesturing for her to sit across from him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Sage took the indicated seat and shot a dirty look at the prince as he plopped down in a third chair. He winked back, seeming to enjoy her discomfort. Alex should have warned her about the prince’s love of surprising people. Maybe he had, but she’d forgotten in favor of remembering more pleasant moments.
The king, fortunately, was determined to put her at ease. “Both my sons and my nephew told me about your role in thwarting the D’Amirans’ plot. They spoke very highly of you.”
Sage’s annoyance with Robert kept her embarrassment at bay. “I’m not sure how well His Highness got to know me. I never really spoke to him until today.”
King Raymond chuckled. “Well, most of my direct information came from Captain Quinn, though some also from Ash.”
Sage nodded, flushing at both the thought of Alex and of how she thought she’d been in love with Ash. She hoped the king didn’t know anything about that. “Your Majesty, I was only acting as any true Demoran would in defense of her country.”
“You may believe that,” the king said. “It may even be true. But the fact is, I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”
“Nor would I expect such a reward,” Sage said quickly.
King Raymond smiled. “Perhaps not. Yet I believe there is something you wish that coincides with a need of mine.”
Sage had no idea what that could be. “I will serve Your Majesty in any way I can.”
“I’ve heard you speak Kimisar,” he said.
She answered him in that language. “I am better in reading than in conversation, but yes, Your Majesty.”
He nodded. “Reyan?”
Clare was much better, but Sage had been practicing with her since she’d found out. “Moderately well, My King,” she replied in Reyan.
“As your father was a fowler, I imagine you know a great deal about natural sciences.”
Sage looked back in puzzlement. “I’m not sure what you mean by natural sciences, sire.”
“You know and understand animals and their behavior, how plants grow and which are useful, weather patterns and land erosion, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, yes!” Sage replied, then blushed at her eagerness. “I just never thought of it as science.”
“Just about everything is science, once you break it down to its process.” He paused. “Geography?”
“My experience is limited, but I have studied many maps.” Sage’s suspicion as to what this was about began to grow. Alex—acting as Ash—had offered to introduce her to the king and find her a job teaching in the capital. But why the king should take the time to question her before recommending her for a position was unnerving.
“And how is your history?” he asked.
Sage glanced at Robert, who wore a secret-keeping smile. “History is like a story, Your Majesty. Easy to learn if it is made interesting.”
The king nodded. “What about mathematics? Can you do more than sums?”
She winced. “I can multiply and divide and my geometry is good. Algebra is my weakness.” Father had been teaching her algebra just before he died, and trying anything beyond the simplest equations had made her heartsick.
The direction of this conversation was now so obvious she could no longer hold back. “May I beg to know why you ask these questions?”
The king smiled almost exactly as his son did. “After you answer one more of mine, Mistress Fowler. I’m told you enjoy teaching. What is it you love most?”
Sage blinked. She’d never really thought about it, but her love of teaching was something Alex, Darnessa, Clare, and her aunt and uncle had all seen clearly. “My father found joy in learning and in teaching me. I suppose it reminds me of him. But what I enjoy most is how I bring something useful into the life of another. I give my student the tools to build a life that suits them.” Sage looked down, embarrassed.
“And what life suits you, Mistress Sage?” the king asked, his voice gentle.
What if Alex wanted to marry her? He talked like he did, but it would be years before he could. A lot could happen in that time. She took a deep breath. “I should like to teach and also to learn more where I can. That is what brings me fulfillment.”
She heard a smile in the king’s voice. “I have two young ladies in need of a tutor. Would you like to meet them?”
Sage’s head snapped up. Surely he didn’t mean…?
King Raymond turned to Robert. “Go fetch Rose and Cara, please.”
The door closed behind the prince
before Sage found her voice. “Your Majesty, you cannot be serious! I’m not qualified to educate royalty!”
“We would proceed only if you wish, but the queen has expressed concern that the princesses aren’t enjoying their studies. She also desires them to have a proper female companion closer to their age. This would all be subject to a trial period, of course, but I’m very optimistic.”
Sage twisted her hands. How had she found herself in this position? “And if it doesn’t work out?”
“We will find you proper employment elsewhere. The kingdom owes you a great deal; I find it only fitting to reward you.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Unless you wish to continue apprenticing with the matchmaker. Mistress Rodelle and Lady Clare seemed to think you would rather not.”
He’d already talked to Darnessa and Clare about her. Sage might have been angered that everyone—including Alex—had gone behind her back in arranging this, but they had all done it for her. And if so many people thought she deserved this honor, this happiness, perhaps they weren’t wrong.
Sage wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and raised her chin. “Your Majesty, I accept your generous offer. I shall endeavor to be worthy of your trust in me.”
“I do have one condition, Mistress Sage,” said the king, hazel eyes twinkling. “You must be honest with me about the girls’ progress and also about your own happiness in this job.”
“Sire, you may count on the first part. As for the second…,” Sage hesitated. “When I’m unhappy, I think everyone knows it.”
The king was still chuckling when the princesses arrived, eager to meet their new tutor.
91
BETWEEN WEDDING PREPARATIONS and Sage’s dizzying orientation to her new position, she and Darnessa barely crossed paths over the next two days. The matchmaker released her from her apprenticeship when Sage related the king’s offer, but said little about it. Sage felt too awkward to attempt a discussion.
To her great embarrassment, Sage also discovered she was somewhat of a celebrity, especially now that she was connected to the princesses. The final banquet and ball before the traditional mass wedding at midnight were exhausting, and she was introduced to face after face until they all blurred together. As the dancing began, Clare slipped up to her and pressed a note into her hand. Sage’s heart skipped a beat when she recognized the script. She looked up with a start, scanning the room for the dark face she craved, and spotted him near the door, watching her with a hungry expression.