A Question of Counsel

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A Question of Counsel Page 5

by Archer Kay Leah

Aeley raised her arm. "Escort a lady?"

  "I suppose, if you manage to find a lady," Mayr said with a sigh. When she slapped his chest, he wrapped his arm around hers and pulled her from the room. "What? Don't you think this'll make them jealous?"

  "Hardly."

  On their way to the meeting room, she kept the rest of her worries to herself. What she said to Mayr left her questioning everything again. It was a decision not made lightly, if she could make it at all. Give me the strength. Maybe even the brain I seem to be lacking these days.

  They entered the room quietly. Two men conversed at the window, well-dressed in black leather long coats and breeches with elegant, embroidered tunics. The taller, muscular man wore his brown hair long, tied with black cord. Before him, the shorter, heavier man wore his hair short, though the colour was the same dark shade.

  The soft noise of a third person stole her attention. Snapping her head to the right, her heart raced.

  "Lira?" Aeley glanced at the men at the window. They turned, waiting for her to address them. Maybe Lira was there to help her keep the meeting moving forward. Part of her hoped she was there for something else. "Why are you here?"

  With a hesitant smile, Lira neared Aeley. "Aeley, I'd like you to meet Emon and Ryler Derossa—my brothers."

  "Wait… what? Brothers?" Her heart pounded to a halt. Aeley's gaze alternated between the men and Lira. "That makes you—"

  "Lira Derossa, yes."

  "So, hold on, you knew and—"

  Lira leaned into Aeley, their faces almost touching, her breath warm on her cheek. "We can get into this later, but for right now, you should just talk to them. They're the ones being considered. As far as you should be concerned, I don’t exist. I can’t."

  If she were not stunned, Aeley would have enjoyed Lira being so close. "Fine. We'll talk after." Aeley straightened when Lira pulled away. "Emon. Ryler."

  The muscular man approached her first, his smile and blue eyes sincere when he reached for her hand. His lips pressed to her knuckles, the warmth making her wonder why she felt cold all of a sudden. When he released her fingers, he held his hand to his chest. "Pleased to meet you in person, Aeley Dahe. We've heard enough about you, but it's nice to be in the same space for once. It’s so difficult to trust the words of filthy grunts with swords and insipid women who waste their time on fanciful notions and rumours." He dropped her hand, his smile becoming a smirk. "I have to admit we’re honoured. It’s been entirely too long since a Dahe took it upon themselves to show us the grace of a meeting. And kind words, no less, without a band of soldiers. And here we expected to be talking to you from behind a closed door."

  Before Aeley could respond, he stepped back and bowed his head. "I'm Emon, the eldest Derossa and heir to our father's vast fortune. Though when I say vast, I’m certain you’re not aware of just what that implies. You are, after all, a politician’s daughter and best suited to warfare, not one for commerce. I wouldn’t expect you know all of what that entails, other than the coins that are traded in your particular part of the region. I’d be happy to explain it to you. Small words, of course, to keep it simple and not waste your time."

  Ryler coughed, though it sounded forced. Aeley thought he said, "Pompous," at the same time. He pushed past his brother to take her hand. "Ryler; middle child, but the smarter one, or so I've been told. At this point, I’d wager I’m already looking better than my competition. Emon’s the one who runs his mouth. I’m the one who has to clean up the mess." With a weak hand, he gestured to Lira. "And apparently you’ve already met this one. Not much you need to know about her. Actually, we’re not all too sure why she’s here. She doesn’t get anything out of any of this or the estate. I’m sure she’s good for something, just less… influential."

  "Less everything," Emon muttered, rolling his eyes. "Don’t worry about her. Certainly, I’m the one you’ll want to get to know intimately, given the control I have over everything once Father’s gone. If you want to be Steward for your entire life and want for nothing, I can make it happen. You want the support? I can make it so no one ever challenges the Dahes again." He cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind him, though Aeley caught his slight point towards Ryler. "Second-born has some merits worth pursuing, though he still has to go through me."

  "We can fix that," Ryler murmured, almost too quiet for Aeley to hear. Acting as if he had said nothing, he straightened and slapped his brother’s shoulder. "What he means to say is that he steals from the wealthy and pools it all in some underground tunnel while I make an honest living and stow it under my mattress, though it’s a mere pittance in comparison." He winked, his grey eyes similar to Lira’s. "Then again, keeping it small keeps me from being so delusional. And dead. Did I mention I like being alive? I’m terribly fond of breathing. Though it always feels like someone’s trying to kill me. Ever feel that way, Aeley? Er, Steward Dahe. Whatever we call you? Paranoia: yes? No?"

  The glare Emon gave his brother made Aeley wonder what would happen if she left the room and locked them in together. Great, just what I needed. Men who think they're a gift to the rest of us. Did they rehearse this or is this just natural?

  Emon recovered quickly, standing to his full height. "Please excuse Ryler. When he’s excited, he tends to say things most people wouldn’t. Ever. It’s been a hard lesson for him, learning when to stay quiet. It seems that wisdom was one of the few things passed along to our sister. Suppose it what makes her such a good servant." Emon tilted his head. "Sorry, I meant scribe."

  And now comes Lira with one of her clever retorts. Make him look more like the idiot he clearly is.

  Lira remained silent. Humiliation flashed across her face. She stared at the floor, her chin lowering slightly.

  For all her opinions, she had nothing to say.

  What are you doing? Aeley gawked at her. Even in her silence, she said more than her brothers, not all of it good. There was beauty in how she denied her pride, setting her apart from the rest of the Grand Families. There was also ugliness, ego crushing strength into passivity. If only…

  Aeley cleared her throat, the muscles in her back tensing. If only I could shove a gag in their mouths. How do they think that any of this is right? Even Mayr looks like he could swat them. Insulting me is one thing. Shaming her is another. Yet, I still have to be nice. Still have to let them in. One problem at a time, I suppose.

  "Pleasure to meet you," she murmured, her mouth dry as she forced the lie out and turned to Emon and Ryler. "I suppose we should just get to this, since we know why we're here. You mentioned the marriage agreement in your letter. I'm curious to know how much you know about it, seeing as I just learned of it."

  Emon did not hesitate. He flexed his arm muscles as he spoke. "Everything, actually. We spoke to your father on our own after he brought it to our father. Nearly made every one of us fall over. But we talked it over, drank perhaps a little too much, swapped stories about how great things were before your mother destroyed our father’s life. Then we decided it was the best course of action for the Republic. The four of us worked out the details of the arrangement."

  "Which are?" Aeley asked. Was it wrong to feel like she was being sold?

  "You can choose," Ryler answered. "Whichever one of us you prefer, we will honour that choice. And so will the date of that marriage, within a year's time from when you officially make your choice. Which has to be announced publicly after a period of half a year's courtship by both of us." He leaned forward. "It’s something about making sure we’re all kept to our word. We’d hate to have one of us skipping out of a deal. The people tend to get a little angry when their leaders turn out to be liars. Then they call for inquiries and make demands and just talk so much nonsense. We’d hate to put you in that position."

  "And it needs to be clarified that we are marrying into your family, not the other way," Emon added.

  "Meaning?" Worried about the answer, Aeley took a breath and held it.

  "Meaning you remain Tract Steward in you
r own right," Emon answered. "We offer you a portion of our wealth in exchange for bearing the Dahe name, recognizing our children have rights to the future candidate positions. We are also to offer to the union our connections, our resources, all estates and lands inherited when our father passes—which may be soon."

  "In return, you agree to protect our family and extend certain rights to the surviving members." Ryler glanced at his sister before turning to his brother. "You know, to keep us from starving or having our throats slit. The usual. Guts hanging out, brains smashed in, eyes rolling across the road. It’d be like these horrible dreams I keep having where I wake up and the whole family’s hanging from the ceiling of the latrine by their right ankle. Suppose that means something, but I’m pretty sure it’s a call for protection, don’t you? We don’t all have armies at our disposal. Considering how much wealth Emon keeps saying we’re sitting on, I’m sure we can use the help. I’m not thrilled with the idea that I could be eating metal for having too many coins."

  "I see," Aeley murmured. Half a year to get to know both. Marriage a year after. One acts like he’s the only one in the world worth knowing. The other sounds like he’s missing a piece of his sanity. This is too rushed. Too… everything. Help me, she wanted to say when she glimpsed Lira's face, her eyes still downcast. Why did she seem disappointed?

  Ryler shuffled his feet. "I know you're not pleased about this, but it won't be bad. Not really. We're committed to this. We intend to give you everything if you're willing to give us a try. No tricks," he said, holding up his hands.

  "We have several months to get to know each other. You don't make the decision today," Emon told her, his voice low. He touched her elbow. "We need to spend some time. Maybe we can just agree to that today and we'll go?"

  I have to make an effort, Aeley reminded herself. Despite an arrogant air, Emon was not the worst-looking man. He appeared older than her, almost in his mid-thirties. There's something to be said about an older man. Maybe if I can focus on that, and he exhausts the insults, we’ll find something in the middle. "I suppose. Yes. Fine. I'll send for you… to spend time."

  Emon and Ryler each took one of her hands. They said their thanks and bowed their heads before striding from the room.

  "That went well," Lira said, once her brothers turned the corner.

  "I guess, considering they walked out with their heads still attached." Aeley faced Lira. "Why didn't you tell me? There you were, going on about how I should just meet with them and the whole time, you knew. I spent the whole carriage ride going on and on and you said nothing."

  Lira watched the doorway, swallowing as she drew her arms around her and then dropped them. "I just didn’t, that’s all you need to know. Call it minding my own."

  "No, that’s not good enough." Aeley pointed to the door. "And why didn’t you say anything during any of that? There they were insulting you and you said nothing."

  "You didn’t, either." Lira stepped around Aeley, heading for the door. "I have to go. Vant needs me—"

  Aeley grabbed her arm. "Why can’t you be honest with me?" she whispered, loosening her grip as Lira turned back. "I can think of something to say to them—"

  "No. Don’t. Don’t make this harder than it already is."

  "But—"

  "But the door is still open. But I can’t get into this."

  Lira moved away. Aeley rushed to the door and slammed it shut.

  "It’s closed now," Aeley said, leaning back against the wood. "And Vant can wait. The only one stopping you right now is you. And I’m asking. It’s polite to answer the question, Lira Derossa, or so you once reminded me."

  "Of course that’s what you’d remember from that conversation," Lira mumbled.

  "I remember plenty of things you’ve said. And the things you haven’t said. Why didn’t you tell me?"

  "It wasn't my place. I'm not supposed to say anything." Lira bit her lip, her gaze falling to the floor. "The Council didn’t wake up the morning of Allon’s trial and suddenly realize what they had. Emon and Ryler went to them days before. They told me to keep my mouth shut. They also pointed out that if I spoiled the contract and talked you out of it, they’d make me rethink my place in our family and your employment. I was lucky that they let me come today to begin with."

  So coercion. Threats. The same games I’m sure they play with everyone else. The same games Asha played with the people around my father. The same they’re trying to play with me. "Why? Why is there hostility at all? Is it because you're the baby of the family and they don't want you involved?" Aeley asked with a nervous laugh, trying to keep them from arguing.

  Lira tilted her head. Her smile was not happy. "They don’t necessarily like to share what’s theirs, including attention and the wealth Emon keeps prattling on about. Though they’re right: I don’t get anything from the family’s estate. I’m not worth the same as them. They also don't approve of certain choices I've made. Not that I approve of any of their choices, either. Mine just tend to be more shaming. Or so they keep telling me."

  "Choices?"

  "Being a scribe isn't considered a place of honour in our family. To be honest, it’s almost as bad as being labeled a traitor of the Republic. Pride is almost above all else in our family, just below loyalty. I chose to do something I loved. They see it as burning away everything the family’s built up, worthy of exile. Among other things they don't agree with. Other choices I can’t take back. Choices I’m not ever going to be sorry for making." Taking a breath, Lira raised her chin. "But this isn't about me. None of this was. I was just here to observe. This is about you. Now you’ve seen them for yourself. You have a better idea of what the Council wants you to do. So what do you think?"

  "About what? Them?"

  "Yes. I gave you your answer. Now I’m asking you, in all honesty, what do you think? You didn’t turn them away. You didn’t tell them no. You agreed. Obviously, that means you’re still going along with it."

  Aeley stepped back. How could she think the honesty would last longer than a few moments? There was no use in pushing further—today. "I'm not any happier about it. I don’t see how it’d work. I’ll probably end up locking them away just to get peace of mind. But they’re who Father chose. They’re who the Council thinks will keep things together." She sighed and crossed her arms. "I can tell you I can’t stand them and I wish I didn’t have to do anything. But all things considered, I guess it could be worse. I know worse. And maybe it’s better to keep them close, to watch what they do. Maybe marriage would keep at least one of them out of trouble. But half a year to get to know them? I don't know what I'm doing, let alone anything about them to make it more comfortable."

  Lira’s lashes fluttered as she gazed at the floor. "I know you’re in a delicate position, but your father would’ve known what he was doing. He’d want to keep your place secure, safe. They offer that. If you can find a way to play along with them, it won’t be that hard. Just make reasons to see them, involve them. Have more meetings. Do things. Have a ball and invite them." She touched Aeley's arm, the gentle weight making Aeley take a breath. "Yes, it's a perfect idea. You're a new Steward. You need to get involved with the other families, better introduce yourself. You can learn about my family at the same time."

  "What about you? Would you come if I did?"

  The gleam in Lira's eye was obvious, but confusing. "Absolutely. Now, I really have to get to Vant. I’ll watch for the invitation."

  As Lira left the room, Aeley wondered if she had missed something.

  *~*~*

  She hated dancing. As Emon's arm curled around her waist again, Aeley wanted to push him away. When his smooth, gloved hand took hers, she almost blurted out how much she despised the mundane steps and turns. Glancing at the brightly-painted faces of the other dancers, she decided against it and allowed Emon to pull her into the crowd, spinning and moving in small steps to avoid the other couples. She needed to remain composed, the perfect host.

  Or the perfect bride, she
thought with sarcasm. Two weeks after we met for the first time, and here we are, in public, acting like we know each other. Forcing a smile at Emon when they parted, she mirrored his hand movements and circled around another couple. He should consider himself lucky, she wanted to tell him. It was thanks to her father's insistence that she knew what she was doing. Had she never relented and learned, she would have made a disgrace of herself among the others, embarrassing Emon in the process.

  And I already have an idea about how he handles embarrassment. His confidence did not waver, overshadowed only by his pride. Guess I can't blame him. He's the eldest, like I am. There's an arrogance with that. Except I have no idea how this would work—we would spend most of our marriage butting heads and mistrusting each other.

  His brother was no less a concern. Aeley gazed across the room to Ryler, immersed in conversation with Luinn. While not a boring man, Ryler still bore the stubbornness that she had come to realize was a family trait. He vied for her attention just as much as his brother, sending her gifts of fine jewels and imported goods from countries about which she knew little. They had even presented her with two daggers before the ball began, each encrusted with polished jewels and elaborate designs on the blades, lying in separate wooden boxes lined with fur. A play on her skill in fighting, she knew, but had accepted the gifts with the same kindness in which they were presented. While pompous, both men had considered what pleased her, even if other women rarely enjoyed sharp weapons.

  Staring at Ryler's golden long coat, she knew he had spoken to someone about her preference for the colour. Emon's green long coat looked new, with gold buttons and trim. Both matched her flowing gold gown and black bodice laced with gold ribbon. It seemed trivial, but the fact they had catered to such a small detail made her think it could be easier than she thought.

  Even then, she was not fooled. It was not about her, it was about them. They wanted to seem more attractive.

  But that's the problem. I'm not attracted to either of them. Not even vaguely enough to make it easier to pretend like I want this. Between the obvious jabs at my family and the disrespect dripping from every other word, I can’t decide if they’re purposely trying to run me off or if it’s really just a test to see what I’ll put up with. Unless they want out of the contract, too, but they want me to break it first, so they don’t have to.

 

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