Dark Swan Comic 1-4
Page 24
“What do you mean by ‘bow’? Does that mean—”
A herald hurled open the double doors and announced in a booming voice: “His royal majesty, King Dorian of the House of Arkady, caller of Earth, protector of the Oak Land, blessed of the gods.”
“Whoa,” I breathed. Dorian squeezed my hand.
“—with Eugenie Markham, called Odile Dark Swan, daughter of Tirigan the Storm King.”
I didn’t think I’d ever get used to being titled, but my astonishment over that faded compared to what happened next. Everyone in the room turned toward us and fell to their knees, heads bowed. Dead silence followed. Slowly, almost in a glide step, we walked down the center aisle, and I tried to look straight ahead and not at the sea of obeisance.
Civilizations rose and fell in the time it took us to reach the throne. When we did, Dorian turned us around to face the assembly and made a small, nondescript gesture. I don’t know how the others saw it with their heads so low, but they all rose and the drone of life and music promptly returned. People moved again, mingling and laughing. Servants scurried to and fro with drinks and trays. It could have been any human party, save for the occasional troll and wraith sipping wine. The men dressed in variations of the Renaissance look Dorian seemed to favor, but the women’s gowns ran the gamut of bell sleeves and velvet to Grecian wraps and gauze.
“And now, my dear, we must part ways.”
I jerked my gaze away from the assembled throng. “What are you talking about?”
He waved his hand. “These are the greatest nobles in my kingdom, not to mention the other kingdoms. I must mingle, listen to their simpering, act like I care. You know how it is.”
Panic seized me as I looked back at all those gentry faces. “Why can’t I go with you? I mean, we coordinate and everything.”
“Because if I keep you on my arm all night, I’ll look possessive and insecure. Leaving you on your own shows I have absolute confidence that you’ll leave with me tonight, regardless of other solicitations.”
“Oh, my God…I’m going to be hit on all night.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s all they’ll do—unless you wish otherwise. Anyone who touches you against your will would incur the wrath of my entire guard, not to mention most of the guests. It would be a shocking insult.”
“And yet I could apparently go off with anyone if I wanted to.”
“Of course. You’re free to choose as you like.”
“Wouldn’t that be an insult to your manhood or something?”
“A bit. But then I’d just take five or so women to my bed and redeem myself fairly quickly.”
“Whoa. I feel like I’ll be holding you back.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll recover once you’re gone tomorrow.”
I swallowed and looked around, the jokes unable to allay my anxiety. “I don’t even know anybody.”
He turned me to him and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. I had to consciously work to keep my body relaxed. It was still a shock each time he did that.
“You’ll just have to meet them, then,” he said.
He strolled off toward the first group of people he saw, and I heard a flurry of exuberant greetings at his approach. Feeling stupid and awkward, I wondered where I should go and whom I should talk to. I didn’t really do big parties. Too much of my time was spent in solitude to really know how to interact in a group like this. That wasn’t even taking into account that these were all Otherworldly residents. Two of my deepest phobias combined into one long evening.
“Wine?” asked a servant who had suddenly appeared at my side.
“Yes, please.”
I seized one of the goblets from her proffered tray and took a hasty gulp of a sweet, fruity red. Picking a direction at random, I took five steps and was immediately intercepted by a tall gentry in scarlet velvet. He had black hair and a neatly trimmed beard.
“Lady Markham,” he oozed, taking my free hand and kissing it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I am Marcus, lord of Danzia in the Rowan Land.”
“Hi,” I said, knowing I would never again remember his name once he left.
He kept holding my hand and let his eyes run over me from head to toe. I suddenly wished the dress wasn’t so tight or the neckline so low.
“I must say,” he murmured, “I’d heard reports of your beauty, but they are paltry things compared to the reality.”
“Thanks.”
I tried to take back my hand, but he held on to it.
“My family’s nobility extends all the way back to the migration to this world. We are renowned for our fierce warriors. Magic runs strong in our blood, usually calling to one of the elements. My own inclinations run toward control of the air.”
As if to emphasize the point, I suddenly felt the slightest of breezes blow against my arms.
“My heirs will inherit a vast estate. My house has always served in an advisory capacity to royalty. Even now, I am a close personal friend of Katrice, the Rowan Queen. She is a powerful ally.”
I realized then he was laying out his pedigree for me, quickly and efficiently, much as a breeder might show off a prize dog’s papers. I opened my mouth, ready to tell him I wasn’t interested, but he just kept going.
“Some men would fear having a warrior consort. They would seek to control you and seize the power for their own uses.” He inclined his head ever so suggestively toward where Dorian conversed with a tall, dark-skinned woman. “Not me. I would not use you to further my own ends. You would rule by my side as an equal, sharing in the guidance of our children.”
Yikes. This wasn’t even our first date. I managed to break my hand free of his. “Thank you, but this is all kind of sudden. It’s been really great talking to you, though.”
Anxiousness flooded his face. “But I haven’t even told you about my famed reputation as a lover—”
“I’ve got to be somewhere right now. Sorry.”
I took two steps back, turned, and practically ran into another man. Beyond him, a few others attempted to linger inconspicuously. In fact this one, I realized, had simply been waiting for me to reject Marcus. He gave me a dazzling smile.
“Lady Markham, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last….”
I sort of lost track of time after that. I never got much farther than that spot and my wine remained forgotten and undrunk. Listening politely to each guy’s sales pitch, I amused myself by considering just how much I could push the limits of the hospitality rule before getting in trouble with Dorian. Yet, no matter how annoying each guy got, I squashed my rebellious instincts and kept to good behavior.
After a couple hours, I caught sight of Shaya, the black-haired woman who had captured me that first night. She walked alone through the room. Brushing off my current suitor, I broke free of the next contender and hurried over to her.
“Hey, Shaya, how’s it going?”
She looked at me in astonishment, not surprising considering I hadn’t spoken to her since my capture. Her gown was midnight blue velvet with a full skirt, tight sleeves, and a high collar. I didn’t entirely understand her whole background, but apparently she was the younger daughter of some noble and had ended up in a military career as part of Dorian’s guard.
“Lady Markham,” she returned. Mild curiosity showed on her face. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thought we’d…you know, talk.”
One delicate eyebrow rose. She glanced over at the eager throng of men and turned back to me with a half-smile. “It seems like you have plenty of guests to talk to.”
“Please,” I whispered. “I know we aren’t friends, but just talk to me like we are. Just for a minute. I can’t stand it. I need a break. I’m so tired of hearing about how big each guy’s estate is…not to mention other things.”
She laughed, the sound rich and sweet. Linking her arm through mine, she led me idly around, like we were indeed friends.
“I’ve heard stories about the things you’ve faced
down. And yet, in the end, it’s a group of desperate nobles who undo you.”
She allowed me a few minutes’ solitude, and we talked about trivial things. As we did, I realized something: She was really funny. And intelligent. And…nice. I’d dismissed her upon our first meeting as a prissy gentry bitch, my attitude fueled partially by my capture and partially by the antagonism at dinner. But here she was, hanging out with me like any other person would, her comments both witty and astute.
“I have to go. Rurik’s looking for me,” she said at last, letting go of me. She smiled again, amused and compassionate. “Put up with them a little longer. They’re nothing more than a nuisance.”
I shook my head. “They’re so blunt and straightforward. It’s strange.” Kiyo and I had once mocked the pretenses in dating, but right now, a little less honesty had its appeal.
“Then be blunt back. If you’re too nice, they’ll think they have a chance and will try another time. Most now consider you a high-ranking noble; arrogance is expected. They won’t think you’re rude.”
I thanked her and watched her leave, just as a hand tapped my shoulder. I sighed. Time to face the wolves again.
Or fox, as it turned out.
“Hey,” I said. “Nice threads.”
Kiyo stood before me in a beautifully tailored tux, its clean black and white lines standing out in sharp contrast beside the flowing colors of the other men.
“I wore it for you. Figured you might like a change from velvet and silk. And as for you…” His smoky eyes did a quick assessment of me. “I’ve been hearing a lot of guys drool over your dress tonight.”
“You’ve been here for a while? And didn’t come talk to me?”
He grinned. “You looked pretty busy.”
“Well, stay with me now. Maybe they’ll leave me alone if they think I’m occupied with someone.”
We found a two-seated bench against a wall, padded with brocade-covered cushions. I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder. He put an arm around me.
“I wish I was out patrolling like I usually do tonight. Fighting spirits and whatnot isn’t half as exhausting as this.”
“And so Tucson goes undefended, eh?”
“Roland’s on it, much to my mother’s dismay. I just hope I’ve drawn a lot of the action here instead of back there.”
We sat quietly for a while, watching the party. It reminded me of the bar. Alone but not alone. Like any other party, people were getting more drunk as the night progressed. That unabashed sexual contact popped up more and more frequently, and a number of people danced wherever they found room. They moved in graceful strides, reminiscent of ballroom styles I knew.
“I’ve been thinking…about last night.”
I looked up at him. “Yeah. I’ve thought about that a few times myself.”
“You were…I don’t know. I’ve never seen you like that. Not that we’ve done it all that much, but…wow. You marked me up pretty good.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He smiled. “No. I don’t think so.” His fingers brushed my chin and tipped my face up. “But what was going on? How’d a nightmare bring that on?”
I turned my face away. “It wasn’t exactly a nightmare.”
“What, then?”
“Just a dream…or a memory. It was about my father. And magic.”
“What happened?”
“I…well, it’s hard to explain.”
“Eugenie—”
I kept my demeanor light and playful. “Forget about it. For tonight at least, okay? It isn’t the right time. We can talk later.”
He hesitated, then nodded. I moved my face closer, and he brushed his lips against my forehead, down to my cheek. I closed my eyes and sighed, luxuriating as his lips moved delicately down the side of my neck. We turned toward each other, our mouths drawn by some unseen force. And as we kissed, I forgot all about the crazy propositions tonight. There was only this. Me and Kiyo.
“No groping,” I warned, seeing his hand slyly move toward forbidden areas. “I don’t care how many other people are doing it. Or how much attention we don’t draw to it.”
“Then let’s go somewhere private,” he murmured, trailing kisses along my shoulder.
“I can’t. You know I have to leave with Dorian. Nothing’s going to happen,” I added, seeing him open his mouth. “It’s just for appearances. We can get together tomorrow.”
He considered and nodded. “All right. But I’m giving you a good sendoff tonight.”
He moved back, and we continued our kissing for a bit until a voice said, “The gods know I’ve seen some strange things in my life, but never did I expect to find a kitsune trying to make himself ruler over all of us.”
We looked up in surprise. I hadn’t expected another suitor while clearly busy with Kiyo.
Aeson stood there.
Chapter Twenty-One
I shot up, anger coursing through my body as I stared at that smug face. A heavy, bejeweled crown sat atop his brown hair, and he wore a close-fitting black satin dinner jacket.
“Don’t look at me like that, Lady Markham,” he told me in a voice both pleasant and hostile. “Dorian will not protect you if you start trouble in his home, no matter how advantageous you are as a lover.”
“Fine. I’ll just have to kill you somewhere else.”
“Your plan didn’t work so well last time.”
“Neither did yours.”
He leered. “That dress is exquisite, you know. It outlines every part of your body beautifully.”
I crossed my arms instinctually. “Don’t waste my time with compliments.”
“Just tossing in my own bid for your body, just like everyone else here.”
“Yeah? Haven’t you paid attention? None of their compliments have worked either.”
“Bah. They’re petty lordlings and leeches scraping for power,” he said with a sneer. “The general consensus is that you’ve refused everyone simply because you’ve yet to be approached by anyone worthy.” He cut a glance at Kiyo as he spoke.
“Or maybe because I’m with Dorian. Not that it makes any difference. I’d fuck that trowe over there before I’d go anywhere near you.”
“I think I’d like to see that, especially considering he comes to your knees.”
“If this is the part where you tell me how well-endowed you are, save it. There’s nothing you can say that would get me near your bed, so just give it up and leave.”
His features hardened, a cold and sardonic smirk turning up his lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that. Not that it matters. I won’t be alone tonight.”
He stepped aside, just barely, and inclined his head. I followed the motion across the room. Jasmine Delaney stood among a group of gentry nobles. She was watching us, an unreadable look on her face. A long dress, heavy with brocade and jewels, draped her slight form, and her gray eyes looked even more enormous than last time.
I clenched my fists, remembering the look on my mom’s face when she described her captivity. Wil’s picture of a lonely girl, lost in her fantasy world, circled around my mind. “I will kill you, you bastard. But first I’ll make sure you beg me for it.” I sounded like Volusian.
“Eugenie,” murmured Kiyo, laying a hand on my wrist. His voice was firm and cautionary. He apparently feared I’d do something stupid. It was a good fear.
Aeson seemed unconcerned. “Those are kind of extreme measures, don’t you think? Especially when there are much simpler ones.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged. “I’ll turn her over to you tonight.”
“Let me guess. If I go live with you instead?”
“No such commitments. Come with me just for Beltane. One night, and both you and she walk free. Not a bad offer, especially since there are still a number of men out there plotting to carry you off for an extended period. Considering the other drivel that’s approached you, you could do a lot worse. I’m powerful. Rich. Influential. A worthy consort.”
He gave me a mocking bow, face still hard. “I look forward to the attempt.” He started to walk away, then gave Kiyo a considering look. “I suppose you could pick worse men to father your child. This one’s already proven he can do it.”
Aeson swept away from us and headed back to his group. Sliding a possessive arm around Jasmine, he leaned over and kissed her hard, pressing her body up against his. With the difference in their heights, he looked like he was molesting a small child—which, I supposed, he actually was. Puberty be damned.
The anger that sight inspired in me solidified into ice as I turned back around to face Kiyo. The look on his face made something inside of me curl up into a ball.
“What’s he talking about?”
He started to open his mouth and then paused, apparently reconsidering what he wanted to say. My incredulity exploded.
“Kiyo! This is where you tell me he’s full of shit and you have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“Eugenie…” he began slowly.
“Oh, my God.” I turned around. The ice inside of me melted and made me queasy. “You have a kid you never told me about. You have a kid somewhere.”
“No. Not yet.”
I spun around. “What the hell is that supposed to—” I stopped. “Maiwenn. Maiwenn is pregnant.”
Poor Maiwenn. Poor sick and weak Maiwenn. I’d heard a number of comments made about her condition and never questioned it. It was a sign of my distraction in the last month. Gentry didn’t really get sick. They could get killed in battle, die from an infected wound, or die of old age. That was about it.
Even now, looking across the room, I saw her sitting and talking with a few others. She was smiling but looked pale under her tan. The dress she wore was loose and voluminous. The one she’d worn at my house had been similar, albeit not made of silk. She wasn’t currently showing off her body.
“You should’ve told me,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I should have.”