The Carnelian Legacy

by Cheryl Koevoet

  She gazed around the room and admired the magnificent oil paintings that adorned the castle’s walls. Most of them depicted battles and warriors with a few nude women. She remembered from her European history class that centuries ago it was common for members of the noble class to exhibit their wealth and power by displaying the family tapestries, candlesticks, furniture, and chandeliers for the entire world to see. From what she had seen of him so far, Marisa decided that Savino was definitely the peacock type of guy.

  She studied the beamed ceiling in awe and noticed the gold leaf details around the wooden window frames. Obviously, the opulent dining room was the largest room in the castle, and Marisa had overheard guests referring to it as the Knights’ Hall. She wondered what it would be like to live in such a castle and to be constantly surrounded by servants, cooks, and butlers.

  The servers carried out the main course, which tasted like some kind of bland poultry. She ate it hungrily; glad she didn’t have the distraction of having to talk to anyone. A little while later, another plate was set in front of her, and Marisa decided that it tasted like her uncle’s favorite dessert of crème bruleé. She had already licked the sticky syrup off her fingers before deciding that it wasn’t very ladylike.

  When the plates had been cleared away, Savino dotted his mouth with his napkin and slowly leaned back, eyeing Darian carefully.

  “Ambassador Fiore, let us conclude the business for which you have come so that we may move on and enjoy the rest of the evening,” he said in a loud voice. The loud chatter in the hall came to a halt as Darian stopped eating his dessert and turned to his cousin. Marisa stared at Savino, surprised by his sudden, businesslike manner.

  “As you already know, my father’s health is in decline, and he is not expected to last until the end of the month,” Savino began.

  Darian crossed his arms impatiently.

  “Our lands are teetering on the brink of war, and we both know I am the man most suited to lead the country. Practically speaking, I am also the only one capable of producing a legitimate heir in order to ensure the succession of power.”

  Savino took a sip of wine, pausing for effect.

  “The question is, Your Excellency—what are you prepared to offer me if I agree to establish an accord and sign your peace treaty?”

  Darian cleared his throat. “Your Grace, by authorization of the Crimson Court and as patriarch of the Fiore family, I am prepared to offer you in marriage the hand of my sister, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Adalina Fiore. Revered for her matchless beauty and virtue, I’m certain you shall appreciate the fact that any man in the country, whether noble or common, would give his right hand to marry her.”

  Marisa’s jaw dropped as her fork clattered to the floor. The other guests turned to stare at her as she bent down to pick it up. She hoped that no one had seen the look of horror on her face.

  “It certainly is a noteworthy offer,” Savino said. “However, I am not entirely certain that your proposal is enticing enough to make me want to sign your treaty.”

  A flurry of whispers broke out around the table as Savino casually spread some butter on his bread and took a bite. He clearly enjoyed being the center of attention.

  Savino held up his hand to silence the commotion. He eyed Marisa slowly before he continued. “If you were somehow able to sweeten the deal, perhaps then I might be persuaded.”

  Darian blinked. “What do you mean, sir, by sweetening the deal?” he asked.

  “You offer me the hand of your sister, Princess Adalina, but I am of the opinion that Lady Marisa would be a much more agreeable alternative. If you were to offer me her hand, well, then I would have no choice but to accept and sign your treaty.”

  The room exploded with chatter.

  Marisa gasped. She couldn’t possibly have heard that right. She tapped on the earpiece and assumed that there must have been an error in the translation.

  Darian stared defiantly at him. “Lady Marisa is not a part of this bargain, Savino, and she never will be. Kindly dismiss the idea from your head.”

  “Why don’t you let her answer for herself?” Savino asked calmly. “She seems like a young woman who is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Give her the opportunity to decide if she is willing to sacrifice herself for your peace deal.”

  Marisa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She glanced down the table at Arrie. He appeared worried as he watched the negotiations with growing concern. She looked at Matilda. The young woman’s eyes glared at Marisa’s with contempt.

  “You have explained how important this peace treaty is to you,” Savino offered. “I am simply telling you that I am prepared to accept your proposal, or at least a modified version of it.”

  Darian shook his head with disgust as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

  “This girl is a nobody,” Savino said, dismissing it with a wave. “She is the distant cousin of a man of next to no importance. Why should you care whom she marries?”

  Marisa frowned. She didn’t like where this was going.

  Savino’s eyes locked on Darian’s. “Tell me, Your Excellency, are you prepared to throw away all you’ve been striving for just for the sake of a maiden of no consequence?”

  Darian clenched his jaw but didn’t answer.

  “Unless perhaps, you want her for yourself,” Savino added smugly as whispers echoed around the hall.

  Slamming his napkin down hard on the table, Darian stood abruptly and headed for the door. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. Struggling to control his anger, he slowly turned and walked back to the table.

  As Darian sat back down, Savino smiled in obvious enjoyment of his cousin’s discomfort. The hall became silent and Marisa imagined hearing a pin drop.

  “I am not in the position to speak for the Lady Marisa,” Darian said. “I am neither her father nor her brother nor her lover. She shall not be included as a factor in any agreement between you and me.”

  Savino sighed heavily. “So am I to assume that you are refusing my proposal?”

  “No. I am simply stating that I cannot force her to marry you. Neither can I force her not to marry you.”

  “Well this is simply extraordinary—”

  “The choice must be hers, wholly and completely,” Darian interrupted. “I am not at liberty to offer you the hand of Lady Marisa within the framework of this peace treaty because I do not wield that power of authority over her.” More whispers flew back and forth through the room.

  Savino stared at his cousin in absolute astonishment.

  “This is just utterly ridiculous! You are the mighty Prince Darian Fiore, are you not?” he asked loudly. “Am I to believe that the man who would reign as Supreme Ruler over all Carnelia is incapable of persuading even a common maid to accept a most advantageous marriage?”

  The room erupted into peals of laughter. Marisa gazed sympathetically at Darian and her heart went out to him. He didn’t deserve to be publicly humiliated in such a cruel way.

  “As I said before, I do not exercise a rule of authority over Lady Marisa,” Darian repeated calmly. “The decision is hers.”

  Savino shook his head and turned to Marisa. “Well, there you are, my dear. It appears that the choice is yours. You do not have to give me an answer right away, but I will be expecting it soon. I am a patient man, but I do have my limits.”

  She looked across the table at Darian, but he was clearly avoiding her stare.

  Savino stood and offered Marisa his hand. “Would you care to dance, my darling?”

  She exhaled a breath of air and took his hand. She had no choice but to follow him out to the courtyard. The other guests rose from the table and followed behind them. The hall was suddenly empty.

  Darian remained in his seat, staring down at his half-eaten dessert. Arrie got up quickly and hurried over. “Are you just going to sit here and let this happen?”

  “Just give me a moment, will you please?” Darian snapped.

  “But this has already gon
e too far.”

  “I know that, Arrie! Don’t you think I already know that?”

  “You cannot in good conscience allow her to marry him. We have introduced her into this mess and we must get her out!”

  “Just let me handle this!” Darian shouted. Arrie paused for a moment to calm the situation down. He took a deep breath as he searched for the right words.

  “Your Highness, you know that I would never contradict you in the presence of others, but I must speak my peace. Dear cousin, if you do not take steps to rectify this situation immediately, you shall regret it for the rest of your life. As will I.”

  “Lord Macario, you are dismissed!”

  Arrie nodded his head curtly and stormed outside to join the others in the courtyard. Darian sulked at the empty table, burying his face in his hands.

  “Oh, what have I done?” he whispered to himself.

  Up on the rampart, Savino pulled Marisa close in a dance under the starry skies. The guests stood around the edges, admiring the beautiful couple as whispers of an upcoming royal wedding spread like wildfire among the servants.

  She glanced up into Savino’s ice-blue eyes and wondered what it would be like to be his wife. It was crazy for her to be considering marriage at her age, but everything in Carnelia seemed to operate on a totally different time frame.

  Did he love her? How could a person possibly love someone in such a short time? Some people married a person they’d never even met until their wedding day. There was a mutual attraction between the two of them, but Marisa knew there wasn’t love yet. Perhaps it could be some day.

  Although she’d managed to capture the heart of a handsome nobleman, she couldn’t get her mind off Darian. Her gaze shifted toward the doors of the Knights’ Hall where he stood alone in the shadows.

  As his lonesome frame leaned against a pillar, Marisa was loaded down with guilt. He had done everything in his power to make the mission a success, but she’d blown it just by her being there. Although he had insisted that she stay back in Andresis, she had practically forced him into letting her come with them to Abbadon. If she had never come, his beloved peace treaty would have been a done deal by now.

  She saw the smug smile on Savino’s lips and it occurred to her that he was the one with the power to change the law. Darian was right. Savino had no intention of making any concessions to his cousin. For now, at least, the handsome young viscount seemed to be holding all the cards.

  When the dance ended, Savino escorted her to the refreshments table and handed her a goblet of what looked like sparkling champagne. She took the chalice but then hesitated, unsure if she could stand the taste. On the other hand, she didn’t want to offend her host by refusing it.

  As she lifted the cup to her lips, Marisa felt a strong, warm hand on her back and she turned.

  It was Darian. “Lady Marisa, would you honor me with a dance?”

  She quickly scanned the room and spotted Savino over by the far wall, engaged in a private discussion. He probably wouldn’t mind if she danced with other men at the ball, but with Darian he might have a problem. Marisa hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded and took his hand.

  They walked out onto the dance floor where he slipped an arm around her and gently drew her close. She felt like Cinderella, but it was confusing as to which of the two men was the handsome prince.

  “Please, don’t say anything, but just listen to what I have to say,” Darian began. She drew a breath, held it, and then gave a long sigh.

  “I truly regret that you have become involved in our complicated affairs, but I’m afraid what’s done is done. Savino has made you an offer of marriage, and it’s an honorable one at that. If you were to marry him, you would have every luxury you ever wanted for the rest of your life.”

  She looked up at him but said nothing. He touched a soft ringlet of her hair as he carefully pieced his words together.

  “The decision whether or not to marry Savino is yours. I shall not interfere, nor shall I influence your decision. I cannot deny that I have developed certain feelings for you, but I deeply regret that I am not at liberty to either declare or pursue them. With your sudden appearance into my life, I find myself in a most complicated and perplexing situation.”

  Darian’s speech was methodical, clinical, detached. His eyes nervously roamed the room before finally settling back on hers.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and yet somehow I sense you have not even reached your full potential yet. Any man in his right mind would be a fool not to offer you the world. However, as you are already well aware, my position is extremely complicated. Had the circumstances been different—”

  “Stop,” she whispered, putting a finger to his lips.

  Tears flooded Marisa’s eyes and she took a step backward. Unable to hide the pain of her disappointment, she quickly gathered her skirts and hurried off the floor. She ran off into the shadows toward the northern rampart, and as she collapsed against the cold stone wall, her heart shattered into a million pieces.

  Darian quickly followed after Marisa and then gently moved up behind her. He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. She gazed out over the mountains towering in the distance as tears streamed down both cheeks.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” Darian whispered. Slowly he turned her around and pulled her close against him. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, softly and gently.

  It was a pure kiss, utterly selfless and giving, not expecting anything in return. His lips were warm and tender against hers, and Marisa had never desired anything more in her entire life. Her hands trembled and her heart raced as she felt the blood pulsing through her entire body. She opened her eyes slowly.

  Stunned to see a single tear rolling down his cheek, Marisa remembered reading somewhere that the eyes are the doorway to the soul. In that particular moment, she was staring straight into his soul. She gazed past him for a moment and saw the stars twinkling like diamonds in the night sky.

  All of a sudden, the gravity of the situation hit her. “Please—let me go! I can’t do this…” she said, pleading through tears.

  Darian’s eyes searched hers questioningly as she struggled to wrestle free from his grasp. Finally, he let her go and she raced down the stone steps and through the empty corridors. She ran up the two flights of steps to her chamber where she collapsed on her bed, gasping and sobbing.

  Savino glanced into the faces of the guests congregated around the refreshments table. “Has anyone seen my bride-to-be?” he asked.

  Several people shook their heads.

  “Brother, I cannot seem to find my escort for this evening. Have you seen Prince Darian?” Matilda asked.

  The host’s eyes narrowed at his sister as a rather disagreeable realization came over him.

  CHAPTER 12

  DEPARTURE

  THE SUN ROSE THE next morning and shone through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the wall. Marisa rolled over and pulled the covers up to her neck. No matter how beautiful the morning may have been, she was too afraid to face the day.

  She felt an awful pounding in her head. Still confused by what had transpired the night before, she sat up and realized that a full night of sleep had not provided a single ounce of perspective to her puzzling predicament. As she remembered Darian’s kiss the night before, tears formed in Marisa’s eyes. She had no desire to see anyone at all.

  As Helinda hastily barged into the room, Marisa wiped her face and lunged for the earpiece on the nightstand. The chatty woman began to tidy up the room, starting with the olive dress that Marisa had carelessly thrown onto the floor the night before.

  “Well, my dear, apparently you were the belle of the ball last night,” Helinda clucked as she tossed fresh logs into the fireplace.

  “The servants were all gossiping this morning, and everyone was highly complimentary of you, my dear. In fact, rumor has it that you are to be congratulated
with your engagement to the Viscount da Rocha. I declare, if you were able to secure such a match, you would be an exceptionally lucky girl indeed.”

  Marisa smiled faintly and pulled on a heavy dress, thankful that she wasn’t expected to respond. Helinda continued to blabber on as she swept the floor and poked the fire one more time.

  “Imagine that, one day you shall become a countess!”

  Marisa rolled her eyes as she pulled a brush through her hair.

  “According to the cook’s assistant, Lady Matilda is soon to be engaged to Prince Darian. Now that’s a true match made in heaven.”

  Ouch.

  Just when she was beginning to wonder if the woman ever stopped talking, there was a knock at the door. As Helinda opened it, Arrie stuck his head into the room. From the knowing look on his face, he’d already heard everything from Darian.

  “And how are we this morning, dear cousin?” Arrie asked.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I was just finishing up in here,” Helinda said with a nod. She hastily grabbed a load of laundry on her way out and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  He smiled. “So, I understand that the situation has become somewhat complicated since the last time we spoke?”

  “Ha! That’s an understatement. Did you hear Savino asking me to marry him? Well, actually, Savino asked Darian if he could marry me. Technically, he didn’t pose the question to me.”

  “Of course I heard it. In fact, everyone in Abbadon has heard it by now,” he said, chuckling.

  He walked over to the dressing table and picked up a small mirror. Gazing at his reflection, Arrie smoothed his mustache. “You’ve been in the country for what—less than a week now? And already you have not one but two suitors chasing after you. That must be some kind of record,” he teased.