Lainey curled her lips into a halfhearted smile. “I’m the one who should apologize. You must think my manners hideous.”
Marisol froze, obviously unsure how to respond.
Goodness. To have scared the girl so.
“The road has been long getting this far, and we’ve still many miles to go,” Lainey said. “Adventures aren’t quite what the stories make them out to be.”
“Anything’s better than being stuck all your life on a farm,” Marisol muttered.
Lainey could relate. Just a couple of weeks ago, what would she have given to get out of Eagleton? She shook her head ruefully.
“You can have the bed, of course,” Marisol said.
“Nonsense. You’ve already sacrificed your room to the niskma and been forced to sleep in your brother’s.”
Marisol looked at the bed and at the pallet. “Father would—”
“Your father need never know.”
After they’d changed into their night clothes, Marisol said, “How did you end up traveling alone with three boys anyway? Is one your intended?”
Lainey barked out a harsh chuckle. “Definitely not, but Xan, unfortunately, is my brother.”
“Oh.” Marisol settled onto the bed and looked away. “I missed him at dinner.”
Her implication couldn’t have been clearer if she’d hung up a huge sign, but Lainey still couldn’t believe it. Since when were girls interested in Xan? “Him? Really? Over Brant or Dylan?”
“I didn’t say I fancied …” Marisol’s face reddened. “He is sort of cute. And, maybe … dangerous?”
Not words Lainey had ever heard to describe Xan. “You have no idea about dangerous. Trust me, you want no part of him.”
Marisol sighed. “It’s not like I’ll ever see any of you again after breakfast tomorrow, anyway.”
“Look, Marisol—”
“Oh, please call me Mari. I’ve been trying forever to get my family to shorten it.”
“Mari it is then.” Lainey couldn’t help but give the girl a tiny smile. “Trust me, you don’t know how lucky you are to be safe at home. Better than being chased. Better than fearing for your life. Better than doing bad things to people.”
“You’re probably right. It’s just that nothing remotely interesting has ever happened to me.”
Interesting wasn’t the word Lainey would have used. “Xan’s a horrible choice, anyway. So is Brant.”
“How so?”
Lainey closed her eyes for a moment. How to explain? “Xan thinks he knows everything when he doesn’t have a clue. Brant is only interested in adventures and soldiering. Neither has the emotional maturity the Holy One gave a housefly.”
That might have been a little harsh. “Both will eventually be husband material, but they have a lot of growing up to do.”
“You left out the short one. Dylan?”
Wow. That was even tougher. “Practical. Capable. Sensitive without being wimpy. Comes from a good family and will do quite well for himself.” His only real issue was being silly enough to think money was more important than love, but the right girl would straighten him out fast enough. “Definitely the best of them.”
“It almost sounds like you have a thing for him.”
Lainey laughed. “He and Brant are almost as much my brothers as Xan. I could never …” Well, not never.
“What?”
Heat rose to Lainey’s face. “No. I can’t.”
Mari leaned forward on her elbows. “You can’t say something like that and not continue. I’ll die if I don’t find out.”
Lainey buried her face in her pillow. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”
“You can trust me. Besides, when would I ever have a chance?”
“Dylan and I kissed once.” Lainey couldn’t even look at Mari. “I was twelve and curious. There were only three boys in Eagleton anywhere close to my age. Brant was already way too experienced, and it wasn’t like I could choose my brother.”
“What was it like?”
Lainey’s face heated again. “Nice. Kind of messy but nice.”
“But you don’t feel anything for him now?”
“I care deeply about him.” And Brant. And as much as Lainey didn’t want to, Xan. “But there could never be anything romantic between us.”
She peeked out from behind the pillow. How could she still care about such trivial matters with everything that had happened? With everything she’d done. “I’ve said enough. It’s your turn.”
Mari shrugged. “I’ve never been alone with a boy, much less kissed one. Again, nothing interesting has ever happened to me. Literally.”
“There must be something. Some secret?”
Mari stared at the door silently for a moment, obviously listening. “You won’t tell Father I told you?”
Lainey nodded.
“Father’s titled. Rightfully, he should be called Lord Greenfield instead of master.” Mari sighed. “He thinks it’s ‘putting on airs’ to say so.”
“But you live on a farm?”
“‘Greenfields have tilled this land for nine generations.’” Mari rolled her eyes. “I’d rather be at court.”
“Why aren’t you then?”
“Are you kidding? Father won’t let me out of his sight, and he’s certainly not going to travel all the way to the City.”
All Lainey had to do was mention Mari’s desire to Lady Ashley. A word from the niskma would change Master Greenfield’s mind.
With one tiny act, Lainey could help, but should she? Asherton was about to be sieged. Traveling there was dangerous. She’d be exposing Mari to catchers and mages and soldiers.
“I wish I could help you,” Lainey said.
“I understand.” Mari blew out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “It just sucks that everyone cares more about my safety than I do. Shouldn’t I get to choose?”
She had a point. How many times had Lainey railed against the boys on just that subject? How hypocritical was she being?
Lainey sighed. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
A rooster woke Dylan to dim sunlight filtering through cracks in the hayloft wall. He rose and dressed, trying to be quiet as he climbed down the ladder to avoid waking his still-sleeping friends.
Once outside, he stretched and yawned loudly. He’d not slept well despite the hay making for a more comfortable bed than he’d had in recent memory.
Should he do as Brant advised? It felt so wrong to leave, but neither Brant advising caution nor Xan turning despondent was normal. Perhaps it was time.
Dylan nodded. Why had he stayed as long as he had? No one would look down on him for leaving. Crap, they were asking him to do it. He’d even be a hero for saving Lainey.
No amount of spin, though, changed the fact that he’d be abandoning his friends.
When it came to business, he made quick, perfect decisions. Why couldn’t he do the same for his personal life?
He’d start now. No more wavering. Ride with the others to the garrison. From there, Lainey and he would go their own way.
Dylan whistled as he walked to a water basin at the back door of the mansion. His reflection showed the brightness of his favorite blue tunic and the crispness of his black pants despite months of use. He grinned. The shop owner had asked two silvers for the outfit, but Dylan had only paid a single copper.
Soon, he’d return to that life.
Once he’d tidied up, he knocked. Jeffry, dressed impeccably in a ruffled mauve shirt and tailored brown pants, stifled a yawn as he answered and, after exchanging pleasantries, led Dylan to the breakfast table.
Lainey, attired as usual in baggy travel trousers and his least favorite of her hideous brown shirts, stood next to Marisol as they both looked on in rapt attention as Lady Ashley huddled in deep conversation with Master Greenfield. Dylan smiled at her dress—a shade of purple produced only by his family’s dye. Nice. Their salesmasters could make use of the niskma’s tacit endorsement.
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“Could you be more conspicuous? She’s the duke’s daughter, man,” Jeffry said quietly.
Dylan snapped his eyes away. As if he’d think such about someone so high above his station. Brant and Xan, however, would probably appreciate her dress more for it being form-fitting than for its color.
Dylan risked a closer look at Marisol. She wore a gold dress of conservative cut, though much prettier than her pink ball gown of the previous evening. Lace and pearls embellishing the bodice made the garment seem like something appropriate for a doll. Her wide eyes dominated her round face, further adding to the resemblance.
Not fantastically beautiful but cute.
“I must insist, Master Greenfield. Marisol will make a fine lady-in-waiting.” Lady Ashley clinked her porcelain teacup in the center of a saucer. “She’ll ride with us today, and I’ll have my father’s clerks send the proper sureties once we reach Asherton.”
The offer surprised Dylan as overly generous. Such positions weren’t typically available for the untitled.
The farmer looked flustered. “With three boys along? And no chaperon?”
Lady Ashley scowled.
Though Dylan wasn’t the intended target, he stepped back. What a monster. Good thing she’d been too concerned with Brant and Xan even to notice him.
Master Greenfield sat back in his chair as if repelled. “That’s not to say you’re not fully capable of guarding my daughter’s honor.” He swallowed. “But what about the danger? You’ve been out of touch. Perhaps you don’t know about the impending siege?”
“Are you implying, sir, that my father lacks the ability to guarantee the safety of his subjects?”
“My lady! I didn’t mean—”
“That’s good,” the niskma said, “because such an accusation would border on treason!”
The farmer’s shoulders slumped. “I would consider it the utmost honor if you accepted her into your court.” Each word sounded forced.
Lady Ashley smiled. “It’s settled then.”
Master Greenfield’s eyes lit upon Jeffry. “I’ll send men with you for protection. You’ve been kidnapped once.”
“Father! It’s harvest season,” Marisol said. “And you’ve already sent all the men you can spare.”
“One or two won’t hurt.” He frowned. “My son doesn’t do much anyway.”
Jeffry shrugged and grinned at Dylan. “True enough.”
“What good would a child and a couple of farmhands do?” Lady Ashley said.
“They can—”
“My escorts, Master Greenfield, are more capable than they appear, and it’s little more than a day’s ride to the garrison.”
The farmer stood and pulled his daughter into his arms. “This is too soon, little one. It seems like you were just weaned yesterday.”
Marisol blushed bright red. “Father!”
“I know. You’re too old for that kind of talk.” Master Greenfield buried his head in her curly brown hair. “You mind the niskma now. She’ll look out for you.” He directed a significant look at Lady Ashley, who nodded in response.
As the girl stepped away, she turned to Dylan. “You don’t have a problem with my coming along, do you?”
Why would she ask him? Even if he could object to the niskma’s wishes, why would he? As long as the girl didn’t cause him any more work and didn’t interfere with him leaving, bringing her along didn’t impact him. “The more, the merrier.”
* * *
Lainey shook her head as Mari fretted over the size of her three small saddlebags. “All you need is a couple of changes of clothes.”
“No, I’m going to court. I need gowns.” Mari froze. “I can’t believe I’m going to court!” She spun and hugged Lainey. “All because of you.”
“It will be good to have another girl along. I can’t exactly chat with Lady Ashley.”
Mari drew a yellow dress from her armoire and folded it. “I paid more attention to your friend this morning. He’s sort of cute.”
“Dylan? Really?”
“A little uptight, maybe, but cute.” Mari giggled. “And he checked me out even with the way Lady Ashley was dressed. That’s a good sign, right?” She paused. “Do you think I’m his type?”
It might be fun to help her win him. Someone so … excitable … might do him good. And if Lainey could teach him a lesson about the value of love over money, so much the better.
She grinned. “I think you’re perfect. Want a little advice?”
Mari nodded eagerly.
“He’s stubborn. If he thinks you’re after him, he’ll plant his feet like a mule. He can also be indecisive, so don’t force him to decide. And he can be shy around girls. You have to get him talking to you.”
“About what?”
“Clothes.”
Mari’s eyes widened.
Lainey laughed. “His family trades in dye. He takes a professional interest.”
“Hard to imagine a conversation with a man about fashion.” Mari clapped her hands. “I guess it’s good, though. I can talk about dresses all day long.”
“The most important thing is to not let him know you’re interested. Play hard to get,” Lainey said.
“Should I avoid him?”
Lainey thought for a moment. “No time for that. Act super friendly one minute and aloof the next. That’ll confuse him.”
They talked strategy while they packed, and Lainey grew more and more enthusiastic about their plans. There was one big problem, though, if she were really going to teach him a lesson.
“Do you mind keeping your being noble secret for a while?”
Mari wrinkled her nose. “Would it offend him? We’re not like the nobles in the city.”
“I’m actually worried the information might encourage him.”
“Wouldn’t that be good?” Mari said.
Lainey exhaled sharply. “Look, Dylan is a great guy, and I don’t think he’d court you for the wrong reasons. But marrying into a family like yours is a huge benefit for a merchant. He’d be able to use his new status to secure all kinds of contracts. If you two end up together, don’t you want to know that he wanted you instead of just money?”
Mari chewed her lip. “You’re probably right.” She thumbed through the dresses in her wardrobe.
“Dylan likes blue best,” Lainey said.
Mari flashed a smile. “Pity I don’t have any of those divided for riding.”
After Mari finished packing and dressing, Lainey walked toward the door. “I’ll send him up to help with your things.”
49.
Dylan dragged his feet up the staircase.
He should have known. It was an immutable law of life that more women equaled more work. How’d he get stuck with helping anyway? Wasn’t heavy lifting why they had Brant along?
Marisol waited inside a bedroom. Unlike the other two dresses she’d worn, the emerald one she had on, though still conservative, emphasized her figure and made her wide jade eyes sparkle. Cute.
No, pretty.
A smile lit her face. “You’re Dylan, right?”
His mouth dried as he sought words. What was wrong with him?
“Okay, then,” she said after an awkward pause. “Lainey sent you to help with the bags, right?”
Dylan forced his head to bob up and down. At least he’d managed a response.
“Thanks bunches!” Marisol gestured toward a pile of luggage on the floor.
He nodded again, and she left the room. Her slender hips swayed as she walked, and he had to break his gaze away. What was he doing? Brant and Xan went nuts over girls, not him.
Dylan had to say something. “You’re welcome, Marisol.”
She glanced back at him and smiled again. “Call me Mari, please.”
Grinning, he hoisted the stuffed saddlebags over his shoulder and followed her from the house to the barn where his friends loaded their horses. He stowed her gear on a spotted mare.
“You’re so much more of a gentleman than th
e boys around here.” Her lips grazed his cheeks.
Had she really just kissed him? Warmth shot to his face, and he didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like that was his first experience with a girl. He hid his face from the rest of the party as he loaded and mounted Cuppy.
She was nice and seemed fun. Polite, too. Probably would make a good hostess, a necessity for a merchant’s wife.
Dylan shook his head. Where the blast had that thought come from? A farmer’s daughter wouldn’t advance his business. He had to keep his eyes on the prize. Besides, nothing was going to stop him from leaving for Welloch.
They traveled, at Lady Ashley’s insistence, relatively slowly throughout the morning and halted early for lunch. A small brook gurgled just to the west of a clearing. As the girls chatted and Brant and Dylan gathered firewood, Xan approached the stream with the cookpot.
Mari scooted across the clearing with surprising speed. “No! You can’t.”
“Get fresh water? Why not?” Xan eyed her like she’d gone insane.
“It’s rads infested.”
Dylan started. Such language from a girl? He’d thought she had better manners. Lady Ashley frowned, and Mari’s cheeks turned crimson when she noticed.
“It wasn’t a curse, my lady. Truly, it is what I say.” Mari pointed to the west. “A blighted area lies just over those mountains, and this stream is fed from there. It’s not safe.”
“From the war, no doubt. A blaster or a big, bad wizard?” Xan rolled his eyes. “If every such story were true, there’d be nowhere for anyone to live.”
Dylan clenched his hands into fists. “Watch your tongue!”
“I’m just saying that—”
“I don’t know about other places,” Mari said, “but I’ve lived near here my entire life. The blight is real. Just before the war, a town sprung up around a gold mine, and it became a key source of funds for the nobles against the mages. So one morning, the Lion flies—”
“The Lion himself,” Xan said. “Wow!”
Dylan scowled at him. The two of them were going to have words in the near future.
“—into the town and gives everyone a day to clear out,” Mari said. “The following noon, he reappears and blasts the whole thing.”
Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) Page 25