Consorting with Dragons

by Sera Trevor

  “Back to the palace. Where do you think?”

  “Of course,” he said. “But you must give me a moment to dry off. I’ve been told that the servants are procuring some clothes for me—”

  “I’m sure that you can get a ride with someone else,” Jasen said coolly. “I’m not waiting for you.”

  The chatter of the others had died down, with all of them leaning closer. They weren’t even pretending not to listen.

  Bertio must have noticed that, too, because he dropped his voice even lower. “Do you want to draw even more attention to us? Our little escapade is going to be the talk of Court already. People are going to be very curious why you’re so angry with me.”

  Jasen pressed his lips together. What Bertio had left unsaid was that he himself would be a pariah if it were known that the king’s favorite hated him, but what he said was still true. “Fine. But I’m not waiting around here a moment longer. Get in wet, or stay here. Your choice.”

  Bertio’s expression clouded, but he soon composed himself. He raised his voice. “I must apologize again for how clumsy I am! I know that you were wearing your favorite jacket that’s now been ruined. You have every right to be angry with me.” He dropped down on one knee. “Please, I beg of you, forgive me?”

  Jasen just blinked at him for a few moments. “You are forgiven,” he said tightly. He didn’t sound very convincing—he’d always been a terrible liar.

  But it seemed to satisfy the busybodies. The chatter sounded less befuddled and more…gleeful, for the lack of a better term. Jasen was sure that it would make for some very satisfying gossip. He got into the coach without a backward glance. Bertio got in after him. The door was shut, and a few moments later, they were headed back to the palace.

  “I think they believed it,” Bertio said, although it sounded more as if he were talking to himself. “And when you think about it, it’s more of a funny story than a scandalous one. If we play it right, this shouldn’t affect either of our standings.”

  Jasen stared at him. “When did you start thinking of this? Was it the moment you hit the water?”

  “No—my first thought was whether or not you were all right. When I saw you were perfectly uninjured, then yes, I did begin to consider what it would look like. Didn’t you?”

  “Don’t pretend that you were worried about me. You were worried about whether or not you had drowned the king’s favorite. I’m sure you would have preferred that I’d gone under—your gallant rescue of me would probably have been better for your reputation!”

  Bertio glared at him. “Don’t pretend you’re better than this. This isn’t Grumhold, and we aren’t children anymore. If you aren’t thinking about your reputation every moment of every day, then you are going to lose.”

  There it was again—the idea of the game. Jasen looked away. “This isn’t a game to me.”

  “But it’s a game for everyone else. You’d better start playing it.”

  “And my first move should be paying you off, I suppose.”

  “I’m only doing what I have to do—for the sake of my family.” The puddle underneath him was growing wider by the moment.

  Jasen folded his legs under him to avoid getting his bare feet wet. “Why didn’t you come to me as a friend?”

  That seemed to shock him—he actually flinched. It took him a few moments to collect himself. “Would you have agreed to help me?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.

  “I suppose we’ll never know,” Jasen said sadly.

  They sat in gloomy silence for the rest of the trip. When the carriage stopped, Bertio spoke again. “So I take it that you’re refusing me?”

  Jasen ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t say that. I need some time to think. You owe me that much.”

  Bertio nodded grimly. “All right, then.”

  The door opened. Jasen got out first—although he tried to avoid the puddle, he couldn’t help but get his feet wet. Once Jasen was out, Bertio followed. He also stepped in the water, but he slipped, falling face first out of the carriage and into the dirt. Jasen looked around to see who might have seen. Then he cursed himself that that was his first concern. There was no one else around, at any rate, except for the servants. No doubt they had gossip of their own. He started to consider what they might say, but firmly squashed that thought. It had been quite a tumble. He should help.

  He took Bertio by the arm and helped him to his feet. “Are you all right?”

  Bertio rubbed his head. “Yes. Thank you. We should—”

  But Jasen didn’t wait to hear the rest of it. He took off for the East Wing as quickly as he could without running. Bertio, thankfully, did not follow.

  Jasen stayed in his room for the rest of afternoon. He told Rotheld he wasn’t feeling well and had some dinner sent up to his room. Shortly after, there was a knock on the door. Jasen opened it and was unsurprised to see Risyda there.

  “I heard what happened,” she said. “But not what really happened, I imagine.”

  “Of course you’ve heard. There seems to be nothing useful for anyone in this damned Court to do but gossip!”

  Risyda tilted her head. “Are you all right?”

  Horribly, Jasen felt tears prick behind his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

  Jasen stepped aside to allow Risyda to enter the room. He poured them both a glass of wine—he didn’t normally enjoy it, but he most certainly needed something to steady his nerves. Once she was settled, he told her the whole sordid tale.

  When he was finished, Risyda drained the rest of her glass and poured herself another one. “Well, it’s simple enough to solve,” she said calmly. “I’ll just kill him.”

  Jasen smiled a little. “What would I do if you were hauled off to the dungeon?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t get caught. People spontaneously catch on fire all of the time, don’t they?”

  Jasen sighed. “What am I actually going to do?”

  “It’s your word against his. I think I know who the king will believe.”

  “So you think I should lie?”

  Risyda seemed surprised. “Of course you should lie! I hate to say it, but he was right about one thing—you wouldn’t have gotten into Court if the scouts had vetted you properly.”

  Jasen felt his face fall. “You’re right—I don’t belong here.”

  Risyda whacked him on the arm. “I didn’t say that! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but almost everyone is lying in some way or another. Court couldn’t exist without a careful balance of deceptions. Everyone has secrets.”

  Jasen slumped in his chair. “I say again, I don’t belong here. I don’t like secrets and lies.”

  “No one does, but it’s—”

  “If the rest of that sentence is ‘how you play the game,’ I’m going to scream.”

  Risyda poured him another glass of wine. “I know, I know—you hate that. Fortunately for you, I’m fine with playing games, and I don’t mind playing dirty. Does Bertio have any evidence of your tryst? Any letters?”

  “No. He sent me several, and I threw them out ages ago. I only responded once, and there was nothing in my reply that was at all improper.”

  “So it really is his word against yours. And you have yet another advantage—you know his secret. His family is broke—if you don’t belong here, neither does he. I wonder what his marriage prospects will look like once everyone knows his family’s true position? Gossip works both ways.”

  “So I should blackmail him back?”

  “If you don’t want to do it, I’d be happy to have a chat with him. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to it.”

  Jasen frowned. “As much as I hate what he’s doing, I don’t want to ruin his life.”

  Risyda rolled her eyes. “He’s ruining his own life by coming after you. And as long as he stays quiet, we stay quiet. It’s a stalemate rather than a win. I’m tempted to thoroughly ruin his reputation, but on the other hand, he’d be more motivated to keep quiet if he has something to lose. I’ll
still start some light rumors so that if we need to launch a more thorough campaign later, the ground will be laid.”

  “Please don’t,” Jasen muttered miserably.

  Risyda gave him a surprised look. “He just threatened you! He declared war, not us.”

  “I know. But I won’t be the one who escalates this. If we need to pursue a stalemate, fine, but that’s all I agree to.”

  “If you say so. But the best defense is a good offense, in my opinion.” She paused. “Can you think of any other past lovers who might come forward?”

  Jasen felt even more miserable. “It seems like you and Bertio are on the same page. That’s exactly what he pointed out.”

  “Well, are there?”

  “I’ve had a few more lovers,” Jasen admitted. “All right, more than a few, but only three other nobles. My other lovers were all commoners, so I don’t imagine that I’m in danger from them.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  “Because they’re not a part of all this horrid intrigue! And they’re good people—I didn’t sleep with just anyone! I considered each of them a friend.”

  “The promise of money has a way of changing people. Trust me, I’ve seen it before—my father is very wealthy, and people do all sorts of things for him. But I imagine your common-born lovers are in Grumhul, so I agree that they are probably the least of your worries. And I suppose we’ll deal with any other potential blackmailers as they come.” She stood up and smoothed out her gown. “I suppose I should go find Bertio.”

  “What, now?”

  “No time like the present. In fact, I’d say that time is of the essence. Do you want to come with me?”

  Jasen shook his head. “I don’t have the stomach for all this intrigue.”

  Risyda leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Poor Jasen. You really are too good for this place. Don’t fret—I will take care of everything.”

  She started to leave, but paused at the door. “Much as I hate to admit it, the lie that Bertio came up with as to why you were angry with him at the lake was a good cover. I think that you should get out and mingle with the other consorts. If you were just angry about a ruined jacket, there would be no reason for you to be hiding yourself away. If you stay holed up here, people might come up with rumors of their own.”

  The last thing that Jasen wanted to do was socialize, but Risyda made a good point. “All right,” he said.

  “We have this under control,” she said firmly. “Don’t look so hopeless.”

  Jasen tried to smile. From Risyda’s expression, he wasn’t altogether convincing, but it would have to be enough, damnit. After she left, he rang for Rotheld to come help dress him. After all, appearances were so important.

  Once he was dressed, he made an appearance in the Swan Parlor. He picked out a book and pretended to read. Several consorts approached him and asked him about what happened. He told the story of Bertio’s clumsiness and his annoyance. It actually got a laugh out of a lot of people. Banither dubbed him “Bertio the Bumbler,” which got more laughter. Jasen realized that without intending it, he had dealt Bertio’s reputation a blow. He knew that Risyda was correct that Berio had brought it upon himself, but he still felt sick about being a player in the game of Court.

  Some time passed, and the consorts began excusing themselves to retire to their rooms. Jasen retired as well and found Risyda waiting for him at his door.

  “It’s done,” she said. “I can’t imagine that he’ll give you any more trouble.” She grinned. “You should have seen the look on his face.”

  Jasen couldn’t share her glee, but he did return her smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Fortunately, you do have me, so stop worrying. It will be all right, you’ll see.”

  But he wouldn’t always have her. After Court was over, she would be gone—either successfully married or back to her father’s. Jasen had had enough gloom for the day, so he didn’t bring it up. He gave her a hug and wished her good night. Rotheld arrived soon after to help him undress. Jasen was so exhausted that in spite of the turmoil of the day, he dropped off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 13

  After the debacle with Bertio, Risyda decided that it would be best if Jasen was kept busy. She asked Lady Wesor to recommend honorable suitors to accompany Jasen on various outings. None of them were seriously courting him, of course, but they all seemed excited for the opportunity to make a good impression on the future king consort. Jasen tried his best to be charming and cheerful, even though he felt like neither of those things. He appreciated the extensive training that Lady Isalei had provided for him—it allowed him to go through the motions without too much effort. If any of the suitors noticed that his behavior was hollow, they didn’t show it.

  Bertio didn’t appear to be having much luck. Jasen overheard two consorts laughing at invitations they had received from him, contemplating whether the risk to one’s wardrobe was worth it. Risyda smugly predicted that he would leave Court early. Jasen wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  In addition to Lady Wesor’s friends, Jasen found himself spending a lot of time with his fellow consorts. It wasn’t as if he had much choice—every time he tried to grab a moment to himself, he was found out and dragged into some amusement or other. He didn’t mind, exactly. In fact, he had developed a certain fondness for some of them. He never felt quite comfortable calling them friends, though—he would never forget how they had made him feel when he first arrived.

  He would also not forget how quick so many of them were to abandon Polina. Now that Lalan was gone, Polina was completely alone. All of her other “friends” had abandoned her. Jasen rarely saw her—it seemed she almost never left her room except for meals. When she did make an appearance, she sat alone in the corner of a parlor, working at her needlepoint absently. Jasen wondered if she was receiving any invitations. His question was answered one day when he saw a servant approach with an envelope. She just shook her head, refusing to even look at it. In spite of everything that had happened between them, Jasen wished he could do something to help her.

  One night, Polina didn’t come down for dinner at all. Worst of all, it seemed like Jasen was the only one who noticed.

  “She’s probably just not feeling well,” Risyda said with a shrug when Jasen brought it up.

  “She was your friend once. Aren’t you even a little concerned about her?”

  Risyda picked at her dinner. “Of course I am,” she said eventually. “But what can I do?”

  “Maybe we should go check on her.”

  Risyda snorted. “Do you really think a visit from either one of us would make her feel better? If anything, it would make it worse. If I were her, you and I would be the last people I’d want to confide in.”

  “I suppose so,” Jasen said, but he wasn’t so sure.

  It was still on his mind after everyone had retired for the evening. Maybe Risyda was right that he’d only make things worse, but he felt as if he had to do something. Jasen got out a quill and some paper. He sucked on the tip while he tried to think of what to say.

  Dear Princess,

  I noticed you weren’t at dinner tonight and wanted to inquire after your health. You may feel like no one cares, but I do.

  Risyda would probably slap me silly for saying this, but I understand why you did what you did. For what it’s worth, I forgive you, and I wish you well.

  Jasen

  Once he was finished, he folded the paper but didn’t seal it. He considered sending for a servant to deliver it to her, but since he had seen her refuse to even glance at letters presented to her, he felt as if a more direct approach would be better. He made his way to her room and slipped the paper under the door.

  He returned to his room and read for an hour or so. Just as he was getting ready to get in bed, a paper slipped under his door. He picked it up.

  Thank you, it said.

  Jasen was surprised at how relieve
d he felt. He went to bed with his heart feeling significantly lighter.

  The next morning, Jasen was pleased to see Polina at breakfast. He waved at her. She smiled and started to wave back, but then looked down, her expression grim again. It didn’t take long to figure why.

  “Why are you waving at her?” Risyda said, scowling.

  “I sent her a note last night. I think we made up.”

  “Made up?” Risyda was red with rage. “You aren’t friends who had a disagreement! She has done nothing but belittle you and sabotage you since the moment you arrived. Why does she deserve your forgiveness?”

  “Forgiveness isn’t something a person deserves or not,” Jasen said. “She isn’t a horrible person—just sad and misled. I’m sure Minister Adwig has been egging her on.”

  “You don’t think Minister Adwig told her to curse your shoes?”

  “I don’t know, but at the very least, I think that he’s been telling her that I’m the only obstacle standing in her way. I’m not excusing her, but I do understand why she acted the way she did. She’s in love, and now her heart has been broken.”

  “So you feel sorry for her.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Risyda crossed her arms and huffed. “Feeling sorry for her isn’t the same as forgiving her.”

  Jasen shrugged. “It makes me feel better to forgive her. That’s enough of a reason, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose,” Risyda said, but she didn’t look convinced.

  They were just finishing up when a valet approached Jasen with an envelope. Jasen tore it open without much thought, figuring that it was from yet another noble looking to curry favor with him, but he froze when he saw the signature: it was from Minister Adwig.

  To the esteemed Lord Jasen,

  I humbly request the honor of your presence to discuss a matter of some importance. As the matter is somewhat urgent, I would urge my lord to attend at the earliest convenience.

  Your obedient servant,

  Minister Adwig

  “Who’s it from?” Risyda asked.

  “It’s from Minister Adwig.”