by Shea Godfrey
When talk turned to Jessa’s dresses and how they blended so beautifully the Lyonese and Arravan styles, she was most pleased to tell them that Radha had designed and made them.
As the afternoon wore on with no sign of Darry, Jessa could not help but feel her absence. As the talk about fashions continued, Jessa peered into her chalice and felt strangely abandoned, though she knew that was not the case. How you must hate these parties, Akasha, and I don’t blame you. The women all seem wonderful and kind and I’m having a surprisingly good time, but it’s a lot of them in one place and all so unlike you. Jessa turned as Alisha filled her goblet once more.
“Not to worry, Jessa.” Alisha grinned. “’Tis a light vintage.”
“Compared to what?”
Alisha’s eyes lit up. “That’s our girl.”
But Jessa’s humor did not last and she searched through the party once more.
Who is it that you’re worried for, Jessa? Emmalyn liked Jessa’s deep blue sari and noticed the curves of her beautiful body, somewhat on display though the dress fell within the rules of etiquette. It was the first court function that Jessa attended without her veil, and Emmalyn had heard more than one comment pertaining to Jessa’s beauty. You look decidedly forlorn, my friend. Emmalyn glanced about the crowded room. Perhaps a tad too much all at once?
When Emmalyn suggested the party move into the gardens and they enjoy the air now that the midday sun had passed over, the proposal was met with a cheer. The ladies mobilized as if they were a small army, Emmalyn taking Jessa’s arm.
“You’re not drinking enough, Jessa,” she teased, wanting to make her smile.
“If I drink any more, Em, I’ll be drunk. This would not please my Radha in the least.”
“We’re all getting drunk, my sweet,” Emmalyn replied. “Welcome to one of my mother’s afternoon tea parties. Now that the men are gone and the keep is ours, we have no intention of wasting such freedom.”
Darry watched the party from the upper balcony of the great hall, finding Jessa the instant she stepped outside. The sari she wore was beautiful. Jessa was at the center of the inner circle and she supposed that was Emma’s doing, which she was thankful for.
“Nina.” Darry was surprised to see her cousin for the first time in just over a year. Darry had known that Nina was coming, but not when. She expected to see many of her relatives, as Jacob’s wedding was barely two months away.
And then perhaps another wedding, most likely Winter’s Eve if Malcolm isn’t too much of a bloody fool. Or perhaps I’m the fool.
She had wanted to kiss Jessa so badly she was afraid something inside her would break, and she had thought at the time that Jessa had looked as if she wanted to be kissed.
And so what if she had? Are you to seduce your brother’s possible bride? Sweet Gamar, I’m so completely damned.
She had returned to her loft in the barracks after leaving Jessa and sat on her small balcony for hours, watching as the stars wheeled their way through the sky. And she had prayed, which she had not done in earnest for many years. She had asked Gamar to give Jessa whatever she wanted. She deserved all that her heart desired and the world at her feet. She deserved love beyond all measure and good sense. Even if Darry could not be the one to give it to her, Darry wanted it just the same. She wanted Jessa to be happy and protected and to know every wonderful touch of a lover who adored her. Even if it will not be me.
The understanding of that fact cut deep yet again, and something inside her was bleeding at the knowledge.
“Hello, Darrius.”
Darry’s shoulders twitched but she turned smoothly.
Melora Salish smiled at Darry and rested against the balcony railing, the upper expanse of the hall spreading out behind her.
Melora’s auburn hair fell in careful ringlets about her face and onto the shoulders of her deep russet gown. Her skin wonderfully pale and flawless, the delicate paint she wore at her eyes matched her dress and added to her attractiveness. Melora’s smile deepened at Darry’s appraisal.
“Hello, Melora.” Darry answered, marshalling her thoughts. Bloody hell, maybe I really am cursed. I hadn’t thought of that.
“I looked for you at the fête, but apparently I wasn’t good enough for you to bother with.”
Darry closed her eyes for longer than necessary, not wanting to open them.
“And we used to be such good friends,” Melora said softly.
“That was a long time ago, Melora.”
“Yes. But we were good friends, nonetheless.”
“Yes.”
“Before you felt the need to be a man.”
Darry laughed.
“Have you found, I wonder, that this way is better?”
“No. It’s just who I am.”
“You’re a woman.”
“Yes,” Darry responded. “I am decidedly so.”
“And are you really satisfied by that sort of thing?”
At least you get right to the point. “Perhaps your many lovers, Melora, have not been doing it right.”
Melora’s smile was quick. “Yes, lovers. Shall we speak of lovers, Princess?”
“Do we want to play this game again?” Darry asked.
“And what game would that be?”
Darry let out a tired sigh. “The one where you try to make me feel ashamed, and I retaliate by slandering your husband’s questionable skills in the bedroom. Which leads, then, to my reciting the list of your many affairs and your claws coming out. Are you not bored of that by now?”
“My husband is quite capable, thank you, Darrius.”
“Is that why you refused to take his name?”
Melora gave a wave of her hand. “The Salish name is mine and I’ve earned it. I saw no need to give it up.”
“And I respect you for that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why should you bend before a man’s name when your own is more than ample? It’s never made much sense to me. Least of all for you.”
“Capitulation, yes. It can be troubling at times.”
They stared at one another.
“You’ve never bent in your life, Melora.”
Melora laughed. “Neither have you, Darrius.”
“Not much, anyway.” Darry smiled, the hairs upon the back of her neck prickling.
“Perhaps, though, you’ve found yourself upon your knees?”
“As have you, I’m sure.”
Melora nodded with a sly smile and studied her chalice. “Had we known when we were girls that love would be so complicated, I wonder if we would’ve bothered thinking on it so much.”
“Actually, I was rather occupied with learning the sword.”
Melora let out a quiet laugh. “Yes, that’s true.”
Darry examined her closely, not liking what she felt, as always. She said the words yet again, as she had many times over the years, wondering if she would receive an answer this time. “I never meant to hurt you, Melora. I hope you know that.”
“They were only rumors, Darrius. How could you know that by declaring yourself as you did that I would be tainted as well? At least for a time.”
“I didn’t.”
“No. You didn’t think, did you?”
“Still bitter, I see.”
“Not in the least. I’ve found that it adds a bit of mystery to my reputation. Spice, if you will. I have a past now. Was she the lover of our backwards Princess? Did they kiss? It is only spice.”
“A woman needs her mystery.”
“Yes, it helps.”
Darry thought of several responses but saw no use in voicing them. Melora wanted something or she would not be there. Prolonging their conversation was not high on her list of priorities for the day.
“You did bend once, though, didn’t you,” Melora said softly. “But I suppose that can be overlooked because of your station. It’s hard, I should imagine, to defy a king.”
Darry waited pati
ently.
“I was actually quite impressed at how you handled the Aidan McKenna affair. Much better than I thought you would’ve, considering your temper.”
Darry let out a harsh breath. She could not have been more shocked if Gamar himself had walked up and kissed her.
“I would have thought you might’ve given up your charade after that and come to your senses. Perhaps married your Bentley Greeves for all that he’s a complete cad. But you stayed loyal no matter what.” She lifted her wine. “Cheers.”
Aidan, Darry acknowledged, her thoughts stumbling. You know of Aidan.
Melora frowned though her eyes were bright. “You look pale, my dear. Are you quite all right?”
“What do you know of Aidan McKenna?”
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t know?” Melora asked, then laughed with obvious delight. “Your father and Malcolm, they paid her family a tidy sum of gold to leave Lokey. No doubt to avoid the disgrace and shame of your affair going public. I should imagine, actually, quite a lot of gold was paid.”
Darry’s pulse quickened with a violent surge of blood.
“She didn’t want to leave at first, of course. After all, she was a backwards girl. Sharing her spirit with royalty was most likely something of a thrill. Someone of that ilk cannot find much better, I imagine. Marteen said that she wept terribly.” Melora tipped her head to the side a touch. “They had to threaten her father’s station in the end in order to make the poor girl see reason. It happened very quickly after that, as I’m sure you remember. As I said, I was surprised that you surrendered so easily to your father’s justice. No matter what I think of you, you’ve always had a spine, which is more than I can say for most.”
Darry swallowed and it seemed as if a dagger was lodged in her throat.
“I would’ve thought you’d chase after her, or some such romantic nonsense,” Melora went on. “But for once you did the respectable thing.”
“Who told you this?”
Melora recoiled at the tone. “What does it matter, Darrius?”
“Who told you this?” Darry demanded again.
“You cannot think that your father and Malcolm were just going to let you run wild, did you? Darrius, my sweet, you were sleeping with another woman. You were endangering your family’s reputation and your brother’s future. Best that you have a care for that sometime soon, for when Malcolm takes the throne no doubt things will change for you.”
“You said…you said, Marteen? Malcolm’s councilor?”
“You ran off to the sea.” Melora sighed. “I suppose that was a bit romantic in and of itself. How did you find a ship full men? Did you try your luck, Princess?”
Darry reached back through the years for some sort of memory that would secure the crumbling ground beneath her.
“You did, didn’t you,” Melora said in subtle taunt. “Did the rocking of the ship ease the pain of that first time? Was his cock gentle? Were you quiet while the others slept and he pushed inside of you?”
“Melora.” Darry was still trying to get her bearings. That’s not what happened. It isn’t. Oh god, Aidan, tell me they didn’t.
Melora laughed quietly, a slight pout touching her features. “Poor Darry.” Her voice was mocking. “I suppose you should’ve just found a man who was willing to be your wife. Your handsome Arkady Winnows seems an accommodating fellow, at least on the dance floor. Perhaps something there can be nurtured, if you’re careful. Is a bastard more pliant? Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if you wore a phallus, do you think?”
“I think you’re lying.”
“Really?” Melora countered. “How would I know, then, that your gentle little Aidan gave your father back the necklace? It was your grandmother Lewellyn’s, wasn’t it? A nice gold linked chain with a sapphire the size of a bloody walnut?”
A small sound escaped Darry’s throat. “Your father told her it wasn’t necessary, of course, but the silly girl insisted. She said something about honor and saving some small measure of it, or some such foolish nonsense.”
“You lie.” Darry’s voice broke.
“No,” Melora returned almost kindly, and then she laughed, the quiet sound very close to mocking. “You’re making me feel almost guilty, Darrius. This is all too perfect.”
“You’re a liar.”
“No,” Melora repeated. “But if you think so then you should ask your mother, Princess. No doubt the Queen will have a prettier story for you, to soothe your heart and send you off to sleep. She’s had plenty of time to think of one.”
Darry stood unmoving as Melora pushed from the railing and walked toward her. She reached out and Darry flinched. Melora’s perfume filled Darry’s senses and she closed her eyes at the brush of Melora’s soft skin against her cheek.
“You’ll be lucky if your favorite courtesan doesn’t meet the same fate,” Melora whispered beside her ear. Darry jerked in reaction to her words. “Marin Corvinus, isn’t that her name? Did you sneak back that night, Darry, and take what she offered at Madam Salina’s? I believe that Malcolm is preparing a very swift horse for her even as we speak. Off into the night as little Aidan went.”
Melora’s lips brushed Darry’s ear with the merest hint of a kiss. “It’s too bad,” she said, her breasts pressing close as her left hand slid beneath Darry’s jacket. Her touch was suggestive at the small of Darry’s back. “I imagine your whore was a much livelier fuck than your little Aidan. A woman like you? Timid was never your style, Darry.”
Melora kissed Darry’s cheek tenderly, her lips lingering before she stepped back. “Perhaps I’ll have Garwyn bring the carriage around,” she said softly. “Thank you for a full afternoon, Princess. Your mother’s parties are always such fun.”
She walked back along the balcony and Darry watched her go, holding on to her composure with every measure of strength she possessed. Only after Melora lifted her skirt above her shoes and swept down the wide staircase did she let go.
Darry let out a choked cry of anguish and grabbed for the wall beside her. She gripped the bound red curtain instead and bent at the waist in a rush of physical pain. The drape pulled against its golden rings and popped them one at a time in response to the sudden force. The curtain fell in a cascade of fabric from high overhead and poured downward.
She stood slowly, her head filling with the sound of the heavy material as it pooled on the floor beside her. She stared down the length of the empty balcony, lost within the brutal rush of her Cha-diah blood and more than happy to let it come. Her body trembled as her entire world turned on a heartbeat.
*
Marteen Salish studied his sister upon one of the divans by the hearth, the lamp dusting her features in a pale glow. She still wore the dress she had that afternoon, though her shoes were off and he could see her bare feet, her right leg hooked casually over her left knee. Her eyes were closed and she rested the fingers of her right hand against her temple, looking for all the world as if she had dozed off.
“Is it done?”
Melora opened her eyes. “She hadn’t a clue, Marteen, not a bloody clue. I have to admire the timid Aidan McKenna for a job well done. She must’ve been particularly brutal to have thrown Darry so far off the scent.”
Marteen took off his jacket as he went to her. He tossed it on the couch opposite the one his sister occupied, then sat on the last cushion. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, Mel.”
“That’s really beside the point.” she answered. “I’ve just committed political suicide.”
“Do you think she’ll come after you?”
“Why should she? I’m not the one who betrayed her.”
“Betrayed?”
“It will come out,” she responded. “And I’ll be banned from court. Most likely by Cecelia herself, for revealing her nasty little secret.”
“Her circle is unimportant.”
“Yes. It is Malcolm’s that matters.”
“Yes, it is. His is the court of the future. And I promise you shall
have an elevated place in the accounting of it.”
“He’s not the King yet. Keep that in mind.”
“Soon,” Marteen replied. “Even sooner than some have predicted, I’ll wager.”
“Is he really planning to marry her?” Melora asked. “A woman of foreign blood? I can’t see it. Owen will never allow it. He may be haggling now in order to buy time, trying to find out what Bharjah is thinking. But a child of Bharjah’s blood upon the Blackwood Throne?”
“She’s irrelevant, at least for now. It’s Joaquin who is important.”
“And in the meantime I’ll sit in this house and wait, yes? Made a pariah by the truth.” She laughed. “There’s a first for me.”
“No, Mel. Do you think I would let you be thrown to the wolves of the Queen without a care for your future?”
“I don’t know, Marteen. I just stood before a woman I used to hold very dear and ripped her heart out. Though I hold no feelings for her now but contempt and pity, I’m not foolish enough to think I won’t pay for that in some way. The deep repercussions for this may not be what Malcolm expects.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. Darry has always been an unknown. It’s why Malcolm hates her so, even more than her backwards bent. Malcolm has never known what she’ll do, and he has always underestimated her power.”
“Sweetling, she has no power.”
“She has a great deal of power, and for all that you and Malcolm scheme and plot, it amazes me that you can’t see it.”
“What sort of power does she have?”
“The power of a favored child.”
Marteen mulled over her words with a frown. “Perhaps, but that mea—”
“That means more than you think it does. And have you considered that she might go after Malcolm? Has he considered that?”