A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  Gabe disappeared quickly down the hall toward the servants’ quarters, yawning audibly. Quintin held back just long enough to eye me with poorly-concealed distaste. Apparently, he was not as distracted as my mother. “I’ll see you at daybreak.”

  I had hoped for a respite due to the lateness of the evening, not to mention that we’d be busy with travel preparations the next day. As he stalked down the hall after his counterpart, I couldn’t help but scowl after him. Stubborn ass.

  “Shera has a fresh pouch of silphium for you,” Mother murmured my direction, mind still fully elsewhere. “Goodnight, dear.”

  I gaped after her as she vanished down the hall. Sure enough, when I retired to my own bedroom, a tray with a teapot of hot water and a pouch of silverleaf waited. Shera lingered in the adjacent room, finishing drawing a bath. Sitting in the tub, sipping the bitter tea, I marveled at the complex and enigmatic woman I knew as my mother.

  Dawn came brutally early. My legs dragged their way down the stairs and out into the garden. Eyelids drooping, I was annoyed to find Quintin spinning through his warm-ups in lively form. After stretching, I buckled my Freyjan shield on my arm and drew my own sword, waiting for instruction.

  Blue eyes scanned me dispassionately. “Today, we add the dagger.”

  “I’m not sure today’s a good day to add anything,” I muttered sleepily.

  He wasn’t amused. “If you think no one ever fights except on a good night’s rest, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  I bit my tongue and drew my belt knife in my left hand. The balance was a bit awkward. I could barely feel the dagger’s light presence in lieu of the weight of the shield.

  “Not like that.” He grabbed my left wrist, wrenching the knife from my grip and flipping it around so the blade extended down. I raised my eyebrow skeptically. It would be good for a back-hand or over-hand strike, but not much else. He caught my expression. “You think you know better?”

  “It just doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Fine, try it your way then.”

  I flipped the knife back around and squared up against him. He swung at my left side. I deflected with the shield and made to stab at his open rib, but before I could shift my arm’s momentum for the strike, he recovered and brought his sword back around on the outside of my left hand. The dagger thudded on the grass a few feet away.

  “Now, my way.”

  It was awkward at first, but of course, he was right. With the knife tucked along my forearm in a back-handed grip, I could deflect and pivot much faster, driving the blade into the opening with less force but more speed.

  “It follows the momentum of your arm instead of trying to reverse it. Circles, see?” He demonstrated the pivot slowly with his own empty hand. I nodded my understanding. “It’s a more stable grip, as well. You’re less likely to be disarmed.”

  We spent the remainder of the practice drilling the same deflection and strike sequence over and over again. At breakfast, the day’s agenda was laid out. Mother and I would spend the remainder of the morning overseeing preparations for tomorrow’s departure. Shera would help me pack my things, and Emmett would see to it that any additional items were sent for.

  “You may want to consider taking Valor for one last ride before you go,” she suggested. I had selfishly considered taking him with me, but Atenas was a pedestrian city and sea travel was unpleasant for livestock. No, he would return to Laezon with my mother.

  Once the majority of the packing was done, I put her words into action. I spent the afternoon running him ragged in the vast fields outside the city walls, Quintin struggling to keep up on his stalwart gelding. A few times, we stopped to rest as we used to back home, Valor grazing nearby as I sprawled in the sun. The days were growing warmer and the spring grass was soft under my back. I closed my eyes and daydreamed about the adventure ahead. My guardian tolerated it all without comment, though I could tell he was growing restless. Here, with no one for miles around, there was no threat to be countered. I heard him settle onto the grass a few feet from me.

  “What will it be like, do you think?” I wondered aloud to him.

  “Elas?”

  “Elas, Atenas, the tall ships, all of it.” Clouds rolled past overhead.

  “Dangerous.”

  I laughed. “You think everything is dangerous.” He didn’t reply. “Have you ever been on a ship?” I asked him. That part of the upcoming journey unnerved me a bit, especially after my mother’s dire description of the ocean we meant to cross.

  “Once, many years ago.”

  I pushed myself up onto my elbows, looking over at him. “A tall ship?”

  He nodded, glancing at me. “A small one, a fishing vessel. My friend’s father’s ship.”

  When he didn’t offer more, I pressed. “Why?”

  He shrugged, eyes scanning the field. “Thought I’d try my hand at a different life.” He smiled bitterly at the memory. “It wasn’t for me.”

  I watched his face. He was always difficult to read, but the telltales were there. “A woman?” I asked gently.

  Tugging at a sprig of grass, he avoided my gaze. “His sister.”

  I considered him a moment. It was a painful memory, and I dared not press further. “I’m sorry.”

  He stood, brushing off his hands and offering me one. “We should start back.”

  Valor was calm and sated by the time we made it home, the sun low in the sky and the chill of the evening settling on the city. I turned down a diligent stable boy whose name I regretted not knowing, preferring to tend to my mount myself. Quintin left me to my devices, disappearing into the house.

  Slinging the saddle over the edge of the stall, I felt a pang of guilt as I thought of James for the first time in a long while. A melancholy washed over me as I brushed Valor thoroughly, even taking a comb to his mane and tail. I picked the mud from his hooves and stalled him. The slosh of the water bucked soothed me as I drew it from the well. The itch of the hay was comforting on my forearms. The smell of saddle oil calmed me as I carefully polished his tack. An hour passed in a blur, lost in my own thoughts before a familiar voice broke my reverie.

  “Leaving is never easy, love.” I looked up to see my mother watching me across the aisle as I sat on a straw bale with the bridle and rag in my hand.

  I struggled to put my thoughts into order. “I have before.”

  “But never so far, for so long.” She crossed over to me and sat down at my side. “And never leaving so much behind.”

  Her gentle tone threatened to undo me. “I’m afraid,” I confessed.

  “Of what?” she challenged patiently, pushing me to search, to evaluate, to identify.

  “To be so far from everything I’ve ever known. To leave Valor behind, to think I’ve abandoned him. And what if Adrian changes his mind?” Once the floodgates were open, I was hard-pressed to control the tide. “And I’ve made such a mess of things with James. And these foreign delegations,” I gasped, my eyes glistening. “I have this terrible feeling like the wolves are at the door and I’m powerless to stop them.” Hot tears ran down my face.

  She pulled me to her, stroking my hair as I rested my head on her shoulder, and waited for the worst of my despair to subside before she replied. “Valor will return to Laezon with me, and spend a year biting the stable boys and getting fat.” I laughed through my tears at that. She smiled and caressed my temple. “Adrian is mad for you and will wait. Miserably, I’m sure, but he has his fleet to keep him distracted until winter. Even then, I’m certain you’ve seen to it that he’ll have plenty of fond memories to keep him warm.” I sat up, wiping my blushing face. “As for James, well, hearts will mend.”

  “I’m not sure he will ever forgive me,” I sniffled miserably.

  “You both knew what it was when you started. You have your duty, and he will find another. Give it time.” I wasn’t convinced but kept it to myself. She lifted my gaze with one soft hand on my chin. The firm resolve in her eyes braced me. “And you, my ferociou
s daughter, are the farthest thing from powerless I’ve ever known.” She released me. “Your father and I will keep an eye on things here. Amenon has many allies, and I am not without my resources.”

  Somewhat reassured, the tide of my despair passed and I collapsed into my bed that night and dreamed of adventure.

  The next morning, I did get a reprieve from training, as the travel party was due to depart the house just after dawn. A boat awaited us at the harbor. Servants loaded a wagon with our trunks and various accoutrements for the voyage ahead. I said one final farewell to Valor, who nuzzled me with his velvety nose, and wrapped Shera in a tearful embrace. Then, there was nothing left but to make our way to Dockside.

  Aubrey’s porters were already loading his trunks when we arrived. Lord Augustus greeted us heartily, clutching my mother against his robust frame and lamenting their shared woes of sending their children away. Aubrey was grinning from ear to ear. Adrian stood on the deck of the boat, conversing with a hawk-nosed man of middling years. When he caught sight of me, he broke away, leaping over the railing onto the dock. It made me laugh, and he smiled nearly as broadly as Aubrey as he made his way over to me.

  “I’ve counted the minutes,” he beamed at me, his carefully composed demeanor replaced by boyish charm. Before I knew it, the last of our cargo had been stowed and it was time to cast off.

  My mother wrapped me in a crushing embrace. “Take care of that foolish boy,” she murmured into my ear. “And try to enjoy yourself.” She held me at arm’s length, eyes glistening. “Remember, it’s all a grand adventure. Be safe, but do not take the weight of the world with you. These days are precious and fleeting.”

  “I’ll try,” I promised.

  I waved at her from the deck as we cast off. She stood straight-backed and beautiful, her slender frame dwarfed beside Lord Augustus. Then the tide took us and we were swept downriver. Aubrey and I exchanged a glance, both our eyes glistening. With a laugh and an embrace, we made a pact of no more tears and turned to join our travel companions.

  “Time for the tour?” Alec offered. Natalia stood beside him, smiling reservedly. Adrian had returned to the foredeck to speak with the man I gauged was the captain. Quintin, Aubrey, and I followed as we were given the full presentation.

  It was a luxurious vessel, to be sure, a vast pleasure barge kept by the Van Dryn House to ferry them up and down the Septim River in comfort. Operated by a small but capable crew, there was a significant amount of space dedicated to the leisure of the passengers. A sizeable common room branched off to several well-appointed, if small, staterooms. Silk shades littered the open and airy deck, covering couches and carpets set out for our enjoyment.

  Natalia took obvious pleasure in assigning our rooms and pointing out the various games and diversions available in the common area. It was a fantastically luxurious way to travel. The barge drifted slowly along the river’s lazy current. Sailors slipped unobtrusively about their duties, the captain pacing slowly at the helm. We spent the first day lounging in the shade on deck, Aubrey and I marveling at the sights along the bank. Birds, beasts, and small villages slid past us along the water’s edge.

  The quarters were full, the entire Van Dryn family returning to Daria for the summer. I finally met Natalia’s husband Oliver, a wiry merchant with a sharp brow and a gentle disposition. Their twin sons looked very much like him, with the same curly brown hair. Alec’s wife Sara was also in attendance, a pretty young woman with one babe on her hip and another growing in her belly. Along with them came an assortment of cousins and kin, many of whom I’d already met at the Greyshor.

  Dinner was surprisingly lavish, with all manner of delicacies laid for our delight. It was a delicious, raucous affair, as we celebrated fully the commencement of our great adventure. The children were collected by patient nannies once supper had concluded. Wine flowed, and the common room was filled with laughter and song for many hours thereafter. Quintin, of course, abstained in his usual fashion. The rest of us had a ridiculously good time, and all my hesitations vanished. When the night grew late and we decided to retire, I caught my prudish guardian’s eye. His piercing blue gaze read my thoughts across the room. You may not want to see what comes next. His scowl darkened and he excused himself, retiring to his quarters.

  I felt Adrian’s arms slide around my waist from behind, his breath hot on my hair. Natalia and her husband slipped away laughing. Someone was helping Sara haul Alec’s nearly-unconscious body to their stateroom. Lord Yuri and his wife had long since retired. One hand slid down my arm, taking mine and leading me slowly to an elegant chamber at the end of the hall. As heir, he claimed the largest and most lavish quarters, second only to his parents’ accommodations. Two large windows spilled the night sky into the room as I threw the latch and leaned back against the door, willing my breath to steady. He took a few slow steps back, watching me.

  My mother had taught me more than just poisons and eavesdropping. I used it all, that night.

  Where our first encounter had been fierce and urgent, this was quiet and full of tenderness. We devoured one another, slowly, meticulously, hands and lips paying homage. Tangled in sheets, we gasped passionate prayers into the night. When at last we lay sated, limbs entwined in the moonlight, we found words again.

  “Tristan,” he murmured.

  I smiled, my head on his chest. “Mm,” I agreed. “Liam.”

  “I’ve a second cousin named Liam.”

  “Damn, I liked that one.”

  “We can still use it.” He breathed deeply, hand caressing my arm. “What about our girls?”

  I paused a moment. “Shera.”

  He shifted to eye me with surprise. “Your handmaid?”

  “My friend,” I corrected firmly, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “She helped me through many difficult times.”

  His fingertips slid to my ribcage, gently tracing the scar there. “Was this one of them?”

  I looked away again, not wanting to think of James. “Some first loves leave visible scars.”

  Sudden anger stiffened his body beside me, suffusing every limb. “He hurt you?” His voice took on a hard, dangerous edge. It was only half a question.

  “No more than I hurt him,” I replied honestly. The words wrapped the mess of it in truth, granting me a clarity that brought me no comfort. The tension in him eased a bit, and I reached to trace a scar on his bicep. “And what about this?”

  “My second boarding party. Bastard nearly took my arm off.”

  I fingered a large burn scar on his leg. “And this?”

  He laughed humorlessly. “Ball of pitch. Nothing quite like the stench of your own flesh burning.” We fell silent, both reflecting on the myriad scars we had earned and given. Each of us had a history, a litany of experiences both good and ill that felt too vast to share. It would take years to tell it all, but we were young yet, with many decades of marriage ahead of us.

  After a long while, his hand found my chin, gently bringing my gaze to his. Moonlight cast his tempest eyes in silver. “I would never hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  I fell asleep to the sound of his breath and the gentle sloshing of the river.

  Chapter 10

  Dawn had just begun to creep through the windows when a fist rapped on the door. We both shot upright, Adrian reaching for his sword. My own lay buried in a chest in my room several doors down. A pause was followed by another trio of firm pounding on the wood. The murkiness of sleep clearing, I glanced out the window to see the first lights of day peeking over the horizon.

  “On deck, five minutes.” Quintin’s brusque voice called unhappily from the other side. His boot steps retreated down the hall.

  Adrian tossed his sword aside, collapsing back onto the pillows. “Fucking hells.” He eyed me sidelong. “You let him talk to you like that?”

  I was already scrambling for my clothes. “It’s a long story.”

  “You’ll have to share that one sometime.”

  In the en
d, I had to don my gown just to slip down the hall to my own room, where my trunk awaited with my gear. Yanking my boots on, I hopped up the steep stairs in my breeches and tunic, sword belt tucked under one arm. I settled my weapons on my hips and buckled the Freyjan shield as I hurried across the deck to where Quintin stood. He was in a rare mood, arms crossed and scowling.

  I eyed him irritably as I approached. “Might I remind you that you volunteered for this assignment? You could at least attempt some minor level of civility, no matter how much you dislike my choice of company.”

  He didn’t move, his stone-like demeanor on full display. “It is your complete lack of decency I find offensive.”

  I rolled my eyes at him in exasperation. “What in this wide world is not offensive to you Tuvrian prigs?”

  He ignored my barb, pale eyes glinting angrily. “He is not yet your husband. You dishonor your father’s House. You dishonor yourself.”

  I bristled at that. “I seem to recall you claiming it wasn’t your place to judge my actions,” I challenged, my tone harsh.

  One nostril twitched as he swallowed a retort, keeping his cool composure in hand. “I am not here to be your chaperone. I am here to keep you alive and to continue your training. If you have a problem with my attitude, you can take it up with your father upon our return.” His tone put a firm end to the discussion. “Now warm up.”

  I obeyed, stretching and burning my way angrily through a basic circuit of one-handed drills. When I’d finished, he bid me draw my dagger and we repeated the same deflect-and-strike pattern from the other day. Sailors eyed us curiously as they went about their duties. After about a half hour, he demonstrated a variation on the same technique, and we spent the remainder of our practice on that. It took the entirety of my focus, but I acquitted myself well enough. When he finally called a close to the exercise, I was sweaty and sore.

  “That’s enough for today,” he said sourly.

  My head lolled back as I gasped for air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adrian emerge from below deck.