“Thank you, my friend.”
“Let’s hope he asks you to dance,” she winked at me.
At that, I made my way down the stairs and into the main hall to await our guests. Aubrey and his father arrived first, as we had arranged. I endured a half-hearted berating from Lord Augustus for missing my lessons that week. Once I had sufficiently reassured him we would resume as scheduled, he relented and turned to my parents for conversation. Aubrey stepped in, nodding to a sideboard with a few untouched glasses and a decanter of wine. I started toward it, turning my back on him.
“Good gods, Elivya!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone, fetching up beside me. “What in the seven hells prompted you to wear that?”
“My mother,” I replied flatly as I poured for us.
Understanding dawned on his face. “She certainly knows what she’s doing.” He took a hearty swig of wine.
The doorman announced the arrival of our final guest for the evening. I started back toward the entryway to greet him alongside my parents. Aubrey caught my arm. “Keep your wits about you,” he cautioned. “Your mother has given you some armor, but wolves are difficult to outmaneuver.”
Adrian made his entrance with grace and humility, handing his overcoat to Emmett with thanks. His face was flushed from riding. “Have you brought no attendants?” my mother asked curiously when the door was shut behind him.
He bowed smartly to her. “No, my lady. Just me this evening. I hope that does not disappoint.” Echoing his bow first to my father and then to me, he added, “I considered myself safe enough at Lazerin House. I hear you employ some of the finest armsmen in the city.” He met my gaze out the corner of his eye with a sly smirk.
My father grunted his assent. He was still displeased, and I expected my mother had instructed him to play up his disapproval throughout the evening. We mingled in the main hall for a short while, Aubrey and Augustus making their polite greetings. I’m not sure anyone but myself or Leon would have caught the sharp edge in Aubrey’s tone or the defensive set of his shoulders. Dinner was called in short order and we arranged ourselves at the table.
“I understand you spend much of your time at sea,” my mother spurred the conversation along as the first course was served.
Adrian nodded politely. “Yes, my lady-”
She waved him off. “Nefira, please.”
He began again. “Nefira. Yes. I spend nearly two-thirds of the year at sea.”
“And the remaining months?”
“The winters are particularly treacherous on the coastal waters. Ice floes can take a ship down as fast as any shoals. They are more difficult to spot, particularly at night, and they can’t be charted.”
“So the waters remain unprotected in the winters?” She was baiting him. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
He smiled politely, but there was something predatory and proud in his eyes. “In the winter, we sail a smaller fleet of ships built specifically for the winter waters.”
“And you command those as well?” she pressed innocently.
“The winter fleet has its own captains and its own crews. The ships are slower, larger, and must be handled very differently from the agile frigates we sail in the summer.”
“I see.” She finally relented, for which I was grateful. Augustus chimed in with some mundane bits of gossip. The King and Queen were said to be glowing in each other’s presence, and a grand gala was being planned for the spring equinox.
“Do you think you will stay for the festivities, Adrian?” my affable maestro queried.
Stormy eyes flicked toward me for a brief moment. “That will depend on the weather, I imagine.” He turned to my father. “And you, my lord? Do you intend to be gone from the city before then?”
My father considered him. “I’m afraid my duties do not allow me to linger for the sake of frivolity.” I winced at the pointed barb.
“Of course,” his silken voice ceded gracefully. “I’m sure His Majesty will understand.”
Augustus once again diverted the conversation and the remainder of the meal passed without incident. We retired to the salon where I grew less and less aware of the pleasant conversation around us and more and more aware of Adrian’s tempest eyes watching me unerringly. My mother was not the only one who knew how to lay bait. After a few moments, I extracted myself from the conversation and stepped out onto the terrace that overlooked the garden. The night air was bitterly cold, and I immediately cursed her for choosing a gown that exposed so much flesh.
I allowed myself a discreet smile of victory as I heard his steps approach from behind, the slightest graze of his fingertips meeting my bare skin, drifting slowly from between my shoulder blades down to the small of my back. It was an overwhelming breach of propriety, and intoxicatingly intimate.
“You forget yourself, sir.” I fought to steady my trembling voice.
“Forgive me.” He pulled his hand away, his voice practically a whisper. “I had to touch you.”
I turned to face him. “Satisfied?”
A soft laugh escaped his lips. “I think a man could drown himself in you and still want more.” I shivered involuntarily. Whether it was from the night air or his touch, I’m not entirely sure. His brows knit with concern. “You’re freezing. Let’s go back inside.”
“A moment longer,” I protested. “You keep slipping through my fingers.” My teeth began to chatter.
He smiled his disarming smile. “I’ll make sure you’ve the opportunity to question me at your leisure.” He tilted his head with an apologetic shrug. “In relative privacy. Now come on, before you freeze to death.”
It took several minutes to shake the worst of the cold from my bones. I lingered by the hearth and Aubrey gallantly brought me the blanket from his couch, wrapping it about my shoulders and hovering close to my ear.
“I hope it was worth it,” he murmured dryly. “Don’t come crying to me when you catch your death.”
As the evening progressed, my mother surprised us all with an Istran quartet. Ruled by a lesser house of Oristei, the people of Istra possess an innate gift for music, and it pervades their education and culture. They certainly did not disappoint. Accompanied by a singer from Vitri, they performed several beautiful ballads for us over the course of an hour. Seated about the room on couches and chairs, we sipped our wine and applauded heartily at each conclusion. Servants circled with trays of sweet and savory morsels. When the performance drew to an end, we stood and cheered as they bowed.
A close was called to the evening, and my heart sank. We escorted Adrian to the door, and he bowed low to my parents. “My sincerest thanks for your hospitality this evening.”
“It was our pleasure,” my mother replied politely. “You must join us again.”
He straightened, grinning. “It would be my honor.” He offered my father another smaller bow. “My lord.” And one to me, a secret smile on his lips. “Miss Elivya.”
At that, he made his exit, and we were left to the Lords Chamberlain. Aubrey hugged me fiercely as our parents bid each other good evening. Amber eyes met mine in earnest. “Keep on your guard. Last year, he set his eyes on Serena fen Caerus, and the year before it was my cousin Claire, among others.” There it is, I realized, the pieces falling into place. The reason for his dislike. “The year before that, some Hydraxian princess had her heart broken when her father refused his proposal. Van Dryns are about one thing and one thing only: enlarging and preserving their family’s empire. Be careful, Elivya. I saw the way you looked at him.”
“I will,” I promised, though I wasn’t entirely sure I could keep it.
Chapter 7
A handwritten note arrived the next morning, sealed and addressed to me directly. My mother passed it to me at the breakfast table with a satisfied smile. I cracked the wax and read his scrawling hand.
Come to the Greyshor tonight and ask your questions. I’ll be waiting.
-Adrian
“I take it you’re going out tonight,” she said
without bothering to read my face.
“You know my requirements.” My father’s voice reminded, calm but stern.
“Yes, sir.”
“And mind that you take a more discreet mount this time,” Mother added.
After acceding to all their numerous demands of various precautions to be taken, I excused myself from the table to spend the better part of the day in the library. I pored over tomes of Darian and seafaring lore. I lingered over volumes of love and poetry, feeling pangs of jealousy and doubt as I reflected on Aubrey’s catalog of Adrian’s previous affairs, as well as guilt over my acerbic end with James. Finally, I landed on an older text containing detailed paintings of what I’d heard the Van Dryns refer to as “tall ships”. Tall, they were, with sweeping wooden bodies and billowing sails hidden amidst a web of rope lines. I’d never seen such a thing, and it was hard to grasp the scale of them.
“Studying?” my mother’s voice interrupted my reverie.
I looked up from the desk. “Have you seen a tall ship before? I mean, in real life?” I asked her with wonder.
She rounded the table to stand beside my chair. “I have. They are more vast than pictures can express.” Green eyes shifted to me. “And the sea is infinitely more inconceivable.”
“How so?”
“Boundless and mercurial. Unfathomably powerful and merciless.” Awe and fear combined. She shut the book gently. “Someday, you will see it for yourself. Today, you must focus on the task at hand.”
It didn’t feel much like a task to me. I relished the thought of another foray into the city, to laugh and dance and celebrate my youth outside the constraints of propriety. I knew what she wanted to hear, though, so I humored her.
“Plain household mount, common wools, Quintin with me at all times, limit my consumption, no jewelry...” I ticked off my parents’ list of precautions on my fingers, my tone droll.
“And coppers only, in your pouch tonight,” she added, pointing at my waist. “A good cutpurse can hear the difference.”
“How do you know all these things?” I shook my head bewildered.
Her face shuttered instantly. “I wasn’t always your mother, my dear.” She touched my cheek with a smile and left me to the books and my thoughts.
The evening arrived without much ado. My parents ensured I ate heartily, to fortify myself against the evening’s mead. After our early supper, Shera helped me into my black woolen gown and cinched the narrow belt about my waist. “Where did you get these?” I finally thought to ask her.
She glanced up at me as her hands fastened the buckle. “They’re mine, miss.” The startled look on my face made her laugh. “I leave the grounds once in a while, too, you know.”
“I’ve been spending your coin,” I realized.
Shera adjusted the belt knife and reassured me that my mother had seen her generously reimbursed.
Quintin was waiting in the foyer, looking just as unhappy as the last time I’d seen him. My parents, somewhat reluctantly, sent us on our way. After riding Valor for so many years, the small dun gelding beneath me felt graceless and puny. He ambled lazily alongside Quintin’s own similarly common mount. No one in Dockside paid us any mind, though. The boy at the hidden stable admitted us without question. As we were relieved of our horses, I caught sight of a crew of men opening crates marked with a sigil I didn’t recognize: an owl crossed behind with branches and encircled with writing. Before I could see what they pulled from within, Quintin and I stepped out onto the street. I clutched my cloak about me against the cold and followed my dour companion to the much-appreciated warmth of the Greyshor.
I had expected the raucous noise and crush of bodies of my previous visit, but the common room was largely abandoned. A few small clusters of folks talked quietly at tables, sharing a drink or a meal. At one such sat Natalia and Alec, along with two of the cousins from before. Our corner table was empty.
“Relative privacy, as promised.” His silken voice cut through my thoughts as he approached us from the bar. The stalwart woman I’d seen at the stewpot the last visit, and who I guessed likely owned the establishment, tucked a bulging pouch into her apron and headed for the kitchen. We made our way through the room toward familiar faces.
“Elivya,” Natalia stood and embraced me, kissing my cheek. Alec flashed me a kind smile and turned to Quintin. “Would you join us? I was hoping to get your opinion on smiths. I’m in need of a good sword and some seasoned advice.”
I could feel his spine stiffen beside me, and his gaze flicked to me. “I’m afraid I’m on duty this evening, my lord.”
“You will be well within sight of your charge, I assure you.”
I didn’t think Quintin would bite, but he did. Positioning himself with a clear line of sight, he sank reluctantly into one of the chairs and Natalia called for a fresh round. I knew without needing to watch that his would sit untouched.
Adrian and I settled ourselves into our empty corner table near the hearth, two mugs of mead waiting. Despite the chaste distance between us, my heart raced in my chest. He leaned on his forearms on the table, cradling his mug between both hands.
“So,” he fixed me with a slate gray stare. “What is it you want to know?”
“Should I expect honesty or diplomacy from your answers?”
He laughed. “I will be as truthful as I may,” he worded carefully.
We all have our secrets to hide. “Fair enough.” I took a sip and a deep breath, gathering my courage. “First, I’d ask why this place is so empty.”
“Many of the barges shipped out, I expect.” He lied well.
“Mm. And it’s nothing to do with the coin you passed to the tavern keep just a bit ago, of course.”
He grinned, eyes watching me. “Certainly not.”
“And how much of a cut do you get from your… livery stable?” It was a gamble, but I was fairly certain.
His gaze took on a predatory glint. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Those seals won’t paint over themselves, I expect.”
“You seem to think you know an awful lot about me already.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. On the back foot. Good. I pressed the attack.
“I think you’ve enlisted the help of your siblings on several occasions to beguile me into socially compromising situations. Possibly to incur unflattering gossip and press my family into an alliance. Possibly just because you find it good sport. Either way, I think you enjoy the hunt here at Court as much as the one at sea.” I jutted my chin at the bar on the far side of the room. “I think you’d buy out a Dockside tavern for an entire evening just for the opportunity to try your way into my bed. I may not be a Hydraxian princess, but I’d wager I’d make for a decent diversion all the same.”
“My, my,” he hovered on the edge of anger. “You do think you know me. Allow me to disabuse you of this delusion.” He leaned forward onto the table. “I enlist the help of my family because they are the only people in this world I know are capable and trustworthy enough to keep our encounters out of Court gossip. I make no apologies for enjoying the same game of courtship that every unmarried noble plays in this city. I make equally few apologies for excelling at it. Princess Hasha was a beautiful spoiled brat and a cruel soul, and I thanked Adulil when my father’s proposal was rebuked.” He paused to let that sink in. Finally, he dropped his eyes. “And I didn’t buy out the tavern for the night.” Adrian took a sip of his mead. “I bought the tavern.”
I gaped at him a moment before a short laugh escaped me. “You are joking.”
Shaking his head, he smiled. “Eleanor is a stubborn old woman. It was my only recourse. Father will be furious when he finds out.” As I clutched my sides, he turned his gaze on me again. “Whatever prompted this unexpected dressing-down?”
I collected myself and considered him a moment. All humor gone from my voice, I fixed him with my best stern Lazerin stare. “I have it on good authority that you’ve a history of toy
ing with women. I can assure you, I’ll be no-one’s plaything.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Toying?”
“Serena? Claire?” I offered.
“Ah,” he nodded, understanding. “My father has been trying to see me married for nearly a decade. Serena was… conservative. Always in her books, never a moment to spare to just enjoy life. Getting her to engage with me was exhausting.” He looked tired simply at the memory.
“And Claire?” I pressed, bristling. She was obviously dear to Aubrey, and I wasn’t ready to let it go.
Remorse flickered across his face and he dropped his gaze to his hands. “I have not always been the most considerate of courtiers. After many years of playing the obedient heir, I grew tired of my father’s machinations to see me wed.” He thumbed a runnel of perspiration from his mug. “For a time, more recently than I care to admit, I spent my winters here at Court pursuing my own selfish ends rather than endeavoring to honor my House. I didn’t care who I hurt, so long as it irked my father.” He exhaled heavily out his nose and lifted his gray eyes to meet mine, haunted and contrite. “Claire was innocent, more so than most, and I treated her carelessly. For that, I have no excuse.”
Anger flared in my gut for a girl I’d never met. “You hurt her?”
He read the unspoken question behind my sharp words. “Nothing beyond a stolen kiss or two, but I had learned by then how to use my talents to my advantage. She was very young and very naïve and I’m ashamed to admit that I used them heedlessly.”
I nodded, not entirely sure I could forgive such negligent behavior, especially when it involved the dear kin of my closest friend.
That, too, he could read in my face, and his voice took on an edge of remorseful candor. “By the time I managed to see past my arrogance and realize the wanton cruelty I was inflicting on her and others, it was too late to do anything but disappear, so I left. Sent her a letter and returned to my ship.”
We sat in silence for a short while, the low din of other conversations filling the space between us as the weight of his confession settled over the table. I, surely, was not without fault in that same arena. I’d been just as careless with James, and he had suffered far more than I for it. The realization softened me to Adrian’s candid recounting. We are irreparably human, every last one of us, noble and commoner, sailor and stable hand alike.
A Crown of Lilies Page 12