Dark Court: The Summons

by Camille Oster

  Walking slowly, Ashra observed the evening activities and who was talking to whom. Relationships were crucial here, and no one who had observed her speak to Harl would think they were creating one. Chalk and cheese, in every way. Well, someone like Lorcan would understand that, even if not privy to what was said. Harl, on the other hand, would assume everyone looked down on her for the reasons he did, and probably underestimate the game because of it. Strong beliefs were dangerous because they blinded.

  There was a murmur. Something was occurring and Ashra didn't know what. It always made her uncomfortable when something was happening.

  The large doors were opened and a finely dressed pair was introduced as Lord Gray and Lady Emily. The man walked proudly up the center of the hall, with what must be his daughter on his arm. He had reason to be proud, the girl was beautiful, although blushing at all the attention on her. Her youth was obvious and she was being presented at court. Her dress was one of the finest Ashra had ever seen, sewn with pearls and iridescent silk. A small fortune had gone into that gown.

  Letting go of her father's arm, she curtseyed gracefully, her blond ringlets moving slightly as she bowed her head.

  "This must be your daughter, Lord Gray. What a pleasure this is," Raufasger said in his raspy voice.

  Ashra remembered the anxiety of her own presentation. But this girl was more excited than Ashra had been. Her eyes sparkled with it. A girl like that had been raised for this purpose—to be presented at court, and then used to form an alliance with a powerful family.

  "Stunning creature," Raufasger said, seemingly delighted. "Welcome to the court, my dear. It is our pleasure to welcome you. In your honor, we must throw a masquerade," he said and waited for the applause.

  They all complied, a murmur of excitement spread through the room. A masquerade. Ashra didn't know what that entailed, and unknown things were a cause for concern. How bad could it be? It was obviously a ball of some kind, involving masks. She didn't have one and would have to find someone who could create one for her. Yet another thing life at court would require. Perhaps there was one in the closet somewhere. Torunn would have had one, if masquerades were a common occurrence, but then they were usually gender specific if her estimation was correct.

  Chapter 16:

  * * *

  The masquerade was set for a couple of days later and Ashra had found no masks in the apartment. Eventually she had to call one of the pages, who, as it happened, came carrying a red box.

  "Your mask, my lady," the page stated, placing the box down on the settee. "A gift from the liege." The man bowed deeply before stepping back.

  Ashra was taken aback, uncomfortable receiving gifts from Raufasger. What did this mean? Thought raced through her mind. Was she singled out to receive a gift? That couldn't be good. The liege's attention was never good as far as she saw. "Oh, I see. That is very generous," she said with an uncertain smile.

  "He designs the masks himself with the help of the court magicians," the page said proudly. In the box must be her mask.

  The words sent a chill down her spine, because it suggested there was some magics attached to it. "It is charmed?"

  "It is charmed to ensure your identity is not revealed."

  "I see," she said. That made sense, but it still made her nervous. In truth, she didn't trust Raufasger near her, let alone to perform magics on her, but perhaps she was letting her fears run away with her. A masquerade was supposed to hide identities, so magical means of achieving that was perhaps reasonable.

  The very concept of going to a ball and not knowing who she was dancing with was unnerving, but that was the purpose. She could be dancing with the most racist people in the court, and she would have no idea. Then again, they would not know they were dealing with her, either. There was actually something satisfying about that.

  Opening the box, she saw the mask inside, red satin trimmed with gold and feathers. It was very beautiful, the eyeholes lined in black, exaggerated cat's eyes. Reaching down to pick it up, she could feel magic humming off it as soon as her fingers were near. She didn't dare touch it.

  When the masquerade ball had been announced, most in the hall had seemed excited, but there had also been some faces who had looked almost fearful and she didn't know what to make of that. In a place like this, not knowing who you were talking to could be a dangerous thing, she supposed, or perhaps seen as a waste of time.

  There was nothing for it. It had to be done, and she might actually enjoy the evening, not worrying about what people were whispering behind her back. The brushed satin red gown in her closet would be perfect, matching well with the mask. She hadn't worn it yet.

  *

  Ashra left her apartments and walked toward the ballroom where the masquerade was. It was the mirrored one so the gathered crowd looked much larger than it was. It was a disconcerting effect with the mirrors on both sides of the hall, reflecting the scene infinitely.

  People milled around, dressed like jewels. Each mask was different, but all elaborately decorated, with gold, jewels and feathers. She'd felt the magic in it as she'd taken a deep breath and put it on, but it did nothing further that she could tell. The people behind the masks were truly indecipherable.

  This was not one of Raufasger's many throne rooms, so he wasn't sitting above them for once. Still, she assumed his mask would be extraordinarily elaborate to set him apart, but she hadn't seen him yet.

  Milling past people, she didn't quite know what to do with herself. It was impossible to tell who was who. The masked seemed to transform people, leaving the exposed parts of their heads and faces a little blurry. There was something highly disconcerting about it, but also exciting. For a night, she could be anyone, not the Solmnite widow who some regarded as too lowly to be in their company.

  Walking to the drinks bar, she accepted a glass of some pink concoction. It tasted both sweet and bitter, and she decided she liked it. Perhaps she should dance with someone.

  "Looking wistfully at the dance floor," a voice said. There was something familiar about the voice, but also not. "Lady Greve."

  Disappointment coursed through her, having just thought how exciting it was that no one knew who she was, but apparently this person did, and she couldn't say the same. His mask was dark, with white checkers. Clear eyes showed from inside the mask, but as soon as she tried to identify them, the thought fleeted out of her head. That must be part of the magic.

  "I thought we weren't supposed to know each other," she said. "The magics on these seems very good at hiding identities."

  "They are. I saw you coming out of your apartments."

  There was only one person who had cause to be down that way. "Lord Lorcan." He smiled, but his features shifted under her bespelled gaze, refusing to still into recognition. "You look nothing like yourself."

  He stepped closer to her. "That's the point. This is a night for doing as you wish, for not being yourself and for releasing all the pressures of being here."

  "Is it? Sounds irresponsible."

  "Absolutely. No one knows who they are dealing with. It is a night for simply being oneself, without any consequences."

  "So any behavior goes tonight?"

  "I see you're finally understanding the point, and these masks cannot be removed until dawn."

  "Then it is a shame that you saw me when you shouldn't have."

  "Your secrets are safe with me."

  "Somehow I doubt that."

  He smiled gain. "Do you not trust me, Lady Greve?"

  "Do you trust me?"

  "Tonight is not a night for trust. It is a night for uninhibited exploration, the absence of everything except the things we wish to do when no one can hold us to account. A time to put responsibility, even sorrow, to side for a short while."

  "Even commitment?"

  "Especially commitment. Although my wife does not have trouble with that at the best of times."

  She could understand now why some had not welcomed this masquerade ball with relish
, especially those who did not trust their nearest and dearest when there was no account for their choices.

  "But now that someone knows my identity, I can hardly do whatever I please when you can spot me in the crowd."

  "Then I will apologize if you feel the weight of that knowledge. Then how about I free you from any ramifications for the things you do tonight. My lips are forever sealed."

  "I'm not sure what you think I will engage in."

  "All those things you want to but can't. No doubt you will be propositioned. You look stunning. It is hard not to notice you."

  Ashra blushed under her mask. The thought of having a liaison with a stranger was on some level very exciting, the ability to let go of all the tension, the expectations, and even her loneliness. But that was not an option now that she knew Lorcan would watch her every move. Irrespective of what he said, she would have to behave. "I will have to see what mischief I can find, then." She looked around and wondered where she should explore.

  "In that case, you are most welcome to stay." His voice was almost like a purr and her eyes snapped back to him. Was he propositioning her? He could well be as he had effectively done so before.

  "Still thinking you would dazzle me to the point where I would hand over my son's inheritance to you?"

  A grin spread over his lips. "As I said, tonight is a night of no consequences. It is decreed."

  "A decree must be adhered to, but I might forego the allure you apparently exert on the unwary."

  "That would be a shame. I would enjoy a night of getting to know you better—away from the gossips and politics."

  "But could that be as we both know who we are?"

  "Oh, yes. I think you will find me quite personable."

  "I'm not sure personable is the way I would describe you, Lord Lorcan." She went to drift away.

  "Like I said, it is a night for not being oneself. But there is also something very appealing about knowing who you're dealing with, particularly as our esteemed liege is currently roaming the crowd, looking for his next conquest. He did, after all, create the masks and therefore knows who everyone is. Raufasger in a playful mood is not a trap I would encourage being caught in," he warned. "I offer you my protection—for the night."

  Ashra bit her lips together. Lorcan’s words were like cold water being poured on her, sending shivers down her spine. Being approached by Raufasger in disguise was a thought as unpleasant as she could imagine, particularly as he knew exactly who he was talking to. Apparently, the dark lord liked such games and this was a way for him to disguise what he wanted to do, she realized. Sitting up there on the throne, looking down on them night after night. Who knew what went through his twisted mind and this was his opportunity to play.

  With that, Ashra returned to Lorcan's side. He offered his arm to her and she reluctantly took it. Was she jumping from the pot into the fire? But then it was perhaps crucial to know who she was dealing with tonight.

  "Wise choice. Shall we dance? As I recall we have once before."

  He led her out onto the dance floor, turning her into his arms. His hand felt warm and strong on the small of her back. Was this a wise choice, she wondered. Perhaps not, but she knew instinctively that it beat being at risk of being Raufasger's toy for the evening.

  Chapter 17:

  * * *

  The people around them were behaving differently. There was a level of inhibition Ashra hadn't seen before. There was drunkenness and even lecherous behavior. The court was certainly entertaining itself, and Ashra was happy she wasn't subjected to the groping of unknown hands.

  While initially interesting, it grew weary to watch, so when Lorcan suggested taking some air in one of the courtyards near the hall, she agreed.

  The air was crisp outside, the stars showing in a clear sky. The quiet was stark in comparison to the droning sound of a ballroom full of people, some of which were getting quite inebriated. Away from that, she felt more comfortable about accepting the glass of champagne that Lorcan was offering her.

  They sat down on a wall overlooking part of the citadel, the endless gabled roofs, turrets and even ramparts. Was the liege expecting to hold off an invading army? There was no one left to fight. He had effectively made all those who oppose him too weak to be a threat.

  She dismissed the dark thoughts of all the things that had gone on before. "Does he hold these balls often?"

  "Not often, but once in a while. People have learned to appreciate them as an opportunity to escape the tension of regular court life, a time to act out and escape responsibility."

  "Do you?" she asked.

  "Do I what?"

  "Use this as a time to act out and escape responsibility?"

  "I suppose I see it as a time that has no purpose."

  "Does everything you do have purpose?"

  "Yes," he said, taking a sip from his champagne glass. "That is what life here at court is about. It is a game that is constantly played."

  "And what is the game at the moment?"

  "Like I said, tonight has no game. That is the point."

  "You could be having an affair, like everyone else."

  He smiled; she could see it under his mask. "On the occasion I've had affairs, there has always been purpose, so if there is no purpose, I do nothing."

  "Is that what we're doing, nothing?"

  "Exactly."

  "Is your wife the same?"

  Roisen snorted. "My wife," he said as if the word was distasteful, "does whatever pleases her, even if it is wholly destructive to herself and the family."

  That must be difficult for him, for whom everything he did had a purpose, having a wife that was a loose cannon. "You paint her as being quite immature." Ashra would guess so from the games she played.

  "She is not one of this world's old souls."

  "I suppose I would ask why you married her, but I assume you had a good reason."

  "Looking back, it was a mistake, but we cannot always foresee such things. Now I have to work to manage her destructive streak and impetuous behavior."

  A bird of prey screeched somewhere in the night sky. For a moment, she wished she was free to fly like that—or just free. "Will we ever get to leave here?" It felt like they were on an endless thread mill of court life, gossip and intrigue.

  "No," Roisen said, "we don't, which is why these nights are important, I guess." Crossing his arms, he looked out over the view. "Torunn marrying you caused quite a stir at court," he said.

  "I had guessed that. Was it such a shock?"

  "Marriage is one of the biggest hands to play. Around here, it is an alliance that trumps all others and needs to bring great rewards. Hence my marriage to Amethyst. It did enhance the family's position. I didn't foresee it being a barren one. But Torunn threw it all away and married for love. You must understand that is unheard of. Most thought he had lost his mind, or was too weak of mind to capitalize on an alliance. Most still think so, and cannot understand the creature you are, to have called a man away from his duties—and to what some say subsequent doom."

  Ashra felt goosebumps travel up her arms. "Do you think his death had anything to do with me?"

  "If that was the case, no one had profited from it—except you."

  Shock made her open her mouth. "For what purpose would I kill my husband?"

  "A dangerous question around here," he said with a smile. "But no, I don't think you ever would. But someone wanted his death. You never know about such things. There are always currents beneath everything. He is not the first to have died as part of court politics. He didn't die at the liege's hands, though."

  "Do you know who killed him?"

  "No," Roisen said.

  Disappointment flared in Ashra, but she also conceded that maybe she was better off not knowing. How would it be if she knew who had done it and could do nothing about it? Raufasger wasn't exactly known for meting out justice. But then this person could still pose a threat to her and Tabain. She had to root them out.

 
"I never understood why he married you," Roisen continued. "It was such a self-undermining move. Shocking, in fact."

  She had never thought of her marriage to Torunn as something that undermined him. Yes, she had no lands, no influence, but they'd had a good marriage. "We were happy."

  Roisen turned to her. "Obviously, I cannot presume to understand."

  "Is happiness such a foreign concept?"

  "It is not a state which has any relevance."

  "Then maybe you are selling yourself short."

  He smiled again. "You reckon happiness is worth such sacrifice?"

  "You reckon power is worth such sacrifice?"

  "Touché. But love did not keep Torunn safe. I am sure his family warned him against such a move, but he still did it." He was looking at her now, as if trying to figure out the hold she'd had on her husband. "I cannot deny that over the years, you have been a bit of a curiosity."

  "A siren leading men to their doom?" she laughed. Her thoughts grew serious. "I don't regret anything, even if in the end I lost him. I think he felt the same way."

  Roisen was still staring at her through the mask that covered her face. "How much loss would bring you to regret it?" It was a strange question and she didn't know how to answer.

  "I don't know if there is an amount. I loved him and there is no amount of loss that would make me regret it."

  "But now you are alone, with more people who want to hurt you than not."

  "I have to protect my son."

  Roisen inhaled and slowly exhaled. "Duty is love, was how I was raised. Still, I have always been wary of you, the woman who made Torunn turn away from duty. But he never brought you, saw you as too precious to risk exposing to us."

  "When he came home, there was nothing of this," she said, indicating to the citadel at large. "It didn't exist. We had a very different life."

  "Do you love him still?"