“I am glad we are sailing this morning,” Thomas told Phillip as they sat down at the breakfast table for the last time. “I look forward to the voyage to Castle Dragonreach. Perhaps we will run into a wizard storm and crash on some remote and deserted island.”
“Keep your voice down,” Phillip warned with a glance at Constanza, who was seated at the far end of the long table, sorting through the morning mail. “Come now,” he continued. “You know visiting the duke’s won’t be so bad.”
“That’s very well for you to say,” Thomas returned. “You are going to spend a fortnight in the company of the woman you love.”
Phillip shook his head. “And I must watch you dance with Sophia and drape her shawl around her shoulders and hold her in your arms while you teach her how to swing a tennis racquet. All the while, the Countess de Marjolaine will be dogging my every step, trying to catch me slipping poison into the punch.”
“Poor Pip,” said Thomas, smiling. “And I do have at least one reason to look forward to visiting the duke.”
“What is that?” Phillip asked, spreading butter on a slice of toasted bread.
“There may be a letter waiting there from Kate,” said Thomas.
“At the duke’s?” Phillip asked, surprised. “How did you manage that? I gave Kate our address in Maribeau.”
“When I received the invitation from the countess, I sent instructions to our landlord in Maribeau to forward our mail to the Duke de Bourlet’s castle. I could not very well have my correspondence sent to my mother’s,” Thomas added grimly.
Constanza gave standing orders to the servants that all correspondence was to be delivered to her the moment the mail arrived. She did not actually read letters that were addressed to her son in his presence, but she would study the paper, the handwriting, the ink, try to guess who had written them, and then spend the rest of the day endeavoring to persuade Thomas to tell her the name of his correspondent and the letter’s contents.
“Whereas when we are visiting the duke, you merely have to worry about the countess reading your mail,” Phillip remarked.
Thomas shrugged. “The countess does not know Kate. As far as she knows, you are receiving letters from a young lady of your acquaintance. Unless she thinks they are coded letters from Sir Henry.”
“That is not funny,” said Phillip in grave tones.
The luxurious yacht bearing the Stanford coat of arms, drawn by four wyverns, arrived in due course. The servants loaded the luggage on board. Constanza embraced her son and kissed him and gave him many loving messages from her to his future bride.
“I am sorry your visit to the Old Fort was a disappointment,” she said, accompanying him to the yacht. “I cannot imagine what Colonel Smythe was thinking, sending away the troops.”
“The fault was mine, Mother,” said Thomas. “I should have given him more than a few day’s notice I was coming. Besides, I will have many more chances to review them in the coming years. There is no hurry.”
His mother cast him a sharp glance. “What do you mean by that remark, my son?”
Thomas was startled by her reaction.
“I meant nothing, except that I will likely have many more years to prepare—unless you know something that I do not know, Mother?” he added, half in jest.
“No, no, I know nothing,” Constanza said. She patted his arm. “I am glad you are taking your responsibilities seriously at last. Please give dear Sophia my love and tell her that I wish her all the happiness in the world.”
“Yes, Mother,” said Thomas for the hundredth time.
THIRTY
The journey to Castle Dragonreach in Argonne in the wyvern-drawn yacht took about nine days. A larger ship could have sailed through the open Breath and traveled straight to Argonne, cutting the duration of the voyage in half. But the smaller yacht could not survive the wizard storms and strong currents of the open Breath and so they traveled first to the Aligoes, then east-northeast to Rosia, and finally along the Rosian coastline to Argonne.
When finally Castle Dragonreach came into view, Thomas and Phillip stared in awe.
Almost every landscape artist for the last century had done paintings of the castle, for the magnificent structure had been built atop cliffs overlooking the Breath and was said to be one of the most beautiful in the world. Thomas had seen the paintings, but no artist could capture the wild and rugged beauty of the shining white castle wreathed by the orangish-pink mists of the Breath, set against a backdrop of the famous black cliffs of Argonne.
“Sir Henry maintains that the late and unlamented King Alaric wanted this castle and these lands for himself. He made life so intolerable for the previous duke that he eventually rebelled against him. Stephano de Guichen was only a boy at the time, but he and his father, Julian de Guichen, were loyal friends of the duke’s and they both fought in the ill-fated rebellion.
“Stephano’s mother, the Countess de Marjolaine, had been Julian’s lover and bore his son. She became the king’s mistress in order to protect her son, and she persuaded King Alaric to spare Stephano from execution, although she could not save his father. From what Sir Henry says, Stephano was furious with her, blaming her for his father’s death. They went years barely speaking to each other. They were reconciled after the war, but their relationship remains cool.”
“What do you remember about your mother?” Thomas asked. “You never speak of her.”
“Nothing to talk about,” said Phillip with a wistful smile. “She and my father died in a carriage accident when I was young. They had loved each other from childhood and when I came along, they both loved me. She was pretty and happy. He was funny and loving. They led very simple and prosaic lives.”
“We could all wish our lives to be like that,” said Thomas.
“Indeed we could,” Phillip agreed quietly.
Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess de Bourlet, were waiting at the grand entrance to greet Thomas and Phillip upon their arrival. Neither had ever met His Grace, Stephano de Guichen, although they had heard him highly praised by those who knew him, including Captain Thorgrimson of the Dragon Brigade and many other Rosian officers. The two young men reserved judgment, reminding themselves that the duke was the son of the formidable countess.
“How pleasant can he be?” Phillip had wondered.
As it happened, they discovered that Stephano was extremely pleasant. They liked his bluff, frank, and unaffected manner, his warm smile. He immediately made them feel at home, as did his wife, the duchess.
Juliette Corti was gracious and lovely. The daughter of a knight, she had met Stephano when she was a new recruit to the Dragon Brigade. Following the war, Stephano had retired as commander of the Brigade, but he had built a training ground on his estate. Juliette had been one of the first women to enter the ranks of the Dragon Brigade and had a distinguished military career before leaving when she discovered she was expecting their first child.
Juliette was as tall as Stephano, who was of medium height, and, like him, she had the lithe, slender-boned build of a dragon rider. She had dark eyes and long black hair, which she wore in a simple braid around her head. She seemed reserved and cool until she smiled and then her dark eyes warmed and the hint of a mischievous dimple creased her cheek.
“Welcome to Castle Dragonreach, Your Highness, Your Grace,” Juliette said, extending her hands and giving them both a kiss.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Has Princess Sophia arrived?” Thomas inquired.
“She came yesterday with the Countess de Marjolaine,” said Juliette. “And Sir Rodrigo de Villeneuve is a guest, as well.”
Stephano and his wife escorted their guests inside the castle and personally showed them to their rooms, which were on the third floor.
“Rodrigo,” Thomas whispered. “Isn’t he the man who saved you when the countess caught you with Sophia at the ball some months ago?”
“Yes,” said Phillip. “Wait until you meet him. He is one of the wonders of the world.”
/> They met Rodrigo as they were ascending the stairs and he was coming down. Both young men stopped to stare, for Rodrigo was dressed in the fashion that might have been popular with a courtier of King James I. He wore puffy pants tucked into tall leather riding boots that came up his thighs, a slashed doublet of blue velvet trimmed with silver, a frilly white shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat with a curling white feather that slanted over one eye.
“Sir Rodrigo?” Thomas asked Phillip in a low voice.
“Sir Rodrigo,” said Phillip. “Do not be deceived. He may look like a coxcomb and act like a popinjay, but beneath his fine feathers are the talons of a hawk who can rip you to shreds.”
“Your Grace,” said Rodrigo, pausing on the landing to extend a hand, first removing an ornate glove done in brown leather that matched his boots. “I am pleased to renew our acquaintance.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Phillip. “Allow me to introduce His Highness, Prince Thomas Stanford.”
“Charmed, Your Highness,” said Rodrigo.
He swept off his hat with a flourish and bowed deeply, leg extended, and then straightened to give Thomas a languid hand. Thomas was about to dismiss him as a fop, despite his friend’s warning, when Rodrigo’s grip on his hand suddenly tightened. Thomas looked into eyes that were glittering and bright as those of the aforementioned bird of prey.
“What is that outlandish getup you are wearing, Rigo?” Stephano asked with a laugh. “You look as though you walked out of an old portrait titled A Noble Musketeer of King Thibault.”
“Laugh if you choose, my friend, but my haute couture will be all the fashion at the court this autumn,” said Rodrigo, smiling and twirling the feather in his hat.
“Do you know the whereabouts of my mother?” Stephano asked. “I would like to introduce His Highness.”
“The last I saw of her, the countess was in the solar writing letters,” Rodrigo replied.
“Ah, then she will be steeped in some intrigue and we must not disturb her,” said Stephano with a slight frown.
“Hush, my dear.” Juliette reprimanded him gently. “Have you seen the Princess Sophia?”
“I saw the little dog this morning, but I have not seen Her Highness,” Rodrigo replied. He turned to Phillip. “Feel free to call upon me if Your Grace finds himself lost. My room is down the hall from yours. I am going out now to give a piquet lesson to a certain lady of my acquaintance, but I will return after luncheon.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Phillip.
Rodrigo bowed again, put his hat back upon his head, and proceeded down the stairs, the tops of his boots flapping around his knees.
“Piquet!” Stephano repeated, shaking his head. “He’s playing at some game, but it’s not piquet!”
Juliette raised her eyebrows. “My dear!” she exclaimed, shocked.
Stephano laughed and kissed her, then proceeded up the stairs with his wife, leaving Thomas and Phillip to follow more slowly.
“What did Sir Rodrigo mean by telling you to call upon him if you’re lost?” Thomas asked.
“He reminds me of the night he helped me avoid the wrath of the countess when I first met Sophia. His way of telling me he needs to talk to me in private,” said Phillip. He added thoughtfully, “I wonder why…”
Thomas grimaced. Phillip gave him a sympathetic smile.
“You had best become accustomed to intrigue, my friend, for it will swirl around you all the days of your life.”
Thomas grimaced. “I have been steeped in intrigue from my birth. My mother lives to scheme and plot. I was hoping to escape it for a time.”
“No such luck, I am afraid,” said Phillip. “I will meet you later in the garden to impart what I find out.”
The duke and duchess showed them their rooms, which were large and beautifully furnished and provided breathtaking views of the cliffs and the Breath. Phillip said he wanted to take a nap, and retired to his room. Thomas assumed he was going to wait until Rodrigo returned to speak to him.
Thomas asked his hostess if any letters had been delivered either for him or for Phillip. Juliette replied that she was sorry, she did not know of any. Thomas endeavored to conceal his disappointment, but he must have failed, for the duchess said she would ask the servants to make certain. She returned shortly afterward to say that neither he nor Phillip had received any letters.
Thomas, upset and restless, left the unpacking to the servants and went for a walk around the palace grounds. He began to wonder if he had misjudged Kate. Perhaps he had deceived himself into believing she was growing fond of him, when in reality, she was only grateful to him for saving her life. Perhaps he had mistaken gratitude for affection.
Hoping to shake off his dark mood, he went to view the training grounds utilized by the dragon and human members of the Dragon Brigade. He had asked the duke if he would be able to see some of the dragons and their riders in training, but was told the new recruits had flown to the Aligoes to serve in the war against the pirates.
Thomas walked the deserted training grounds and thought about Kate, remembering her story of how she had first met Dalgren. The dragon must have been court-martialed by now. Kate would be devastated if he was found guilty. Given that Dalgren had deserted and confessed to his crime, Thomas did not foresee a good ending.
Stephano would know the trial’s outcome, but Thomas could not think of any way to ask without inviting questions that he could not very well answer. He had been hoping Kate would write to let him know. Apparently she had not cared enough about him to do so.
He strolled the grounds enveloped in gloom, oblivious of the magnificent scenery, until he deemed it time to meet Phillip in the garden, which overlooked the faintly swirling mists of the Breath. He paced the pebble-covered walkways and inhaled the fragrance of lavender and late-blooming roses and grew calm, allowing the tranquility and beauty to sink into his soul.
“Here you are!” Phillip cried, coming around a row of manicured boxwood hedges and spotting Thomas. “These blasted hedges! I have been searching for you everywhere!” He waved a letter. “It’s from Kate!”
“Where did you get that?” Thomas asked, amazed. “I asked Her Grace. She said no letters had been delivered.”
“Sir Rodrigo gave it to me,” said Phillip, grinning.
“Why did he have it?” Thomas demanded.
“Rodrigo saw the letter on the entry table when the post was delivered. The countess still mistrusts me and he feared if she found it, she would read it. He carried off the letter before she saw it.”
“So now Sir Rodrigo reads your mail?” Thomas asked scathingly.
“Perhaps he did,” said Phillip, shrugging. “If so, he is very good at it. The wax seal is intact and I can detect no signs that anyone tampered with it.”
Thomas shook his head, but he was too eager to hear from Kate to pursue the matter. “What does she say?”
“I have not yet opened it,” said Phillip.
He broke the seal, unfolded the letter, and began to read. Thomas peered over his shoulder.
“Kate is fine,” Phillip reported. “She writes that Dalgren was found guilty at his court-martial and that he was going to lose his name—whatever that means—but he was granted a reprieve. He is going to travel Below to work with the Bottom Dwellers. Good heavens! Kate is going Below with him—”
“Below! Let me see that!” Thomas was about to snatch the letter to study it more closely when they were interrupted by a young woman’s excited voice.
“Did I hear someone mention Kate? How is she? How is Dalgren?”
Sophia came hurrying around the end of the hedge row, accompanied by Bandit. She stopped when she saw the two young men staring at her in astonishment.
“Oh, dear! I do beg your pardon, gentlemen!” Sophia blushed red. “I truly was not eavesdropping. I could not help overhearing your conversation and when I heard you mention Kate I could not contain myself. She has been in my thoughts. She told me she knew you, Your Grace.”
&n
bsp; “She did?” Phillip asked, his amazement growing. “How … where did you meet Kate?”
“At the court-martial,” said Sophia, flustered. “I attended as a representative of the crown. Please do forgive me! Come here, Bandit! We must go and leave these gentlemen to their letter.”
She tried to catch the little dog, but Bandit had trotted over to greet Phillip. The spaniel claimed him as a friend, pawing at his legs and barking.
“You naughty Bandit! Come here!” Sophia repeated. “I am so sorry, Your Grace.”
Phillip bent down to pet the dog. “He remembers the night we met, Your Highness.” He looked up at her with a smile. “As do I. Most fondly.”
Sophia’s flush deepened.
“You found me hiding under that table and now you find me hiding in the hedge row,” she said, sighing. “You must take me for a most desperate character.”
She shifted her gaze to Thomas. “I do hope you will forgive me, Your Highness.”
“I find nothing to forgive, Your Highness,” said Thomas, slipping the letter up the sleeve of his jacket. “Your reaction was quite natural. You heard the name of a friend and you were concerned about her welfare.”
He knew he should let the matter drop, change the subject, talk about the weather or pet the dog or ask her about her travels. He could not help himself, however. His curiosity was too great.
“You said you attended the court-martial, ma’am, and that you met Kate … I mean Mistress Katherine…”
He stammered over her name, but Sophia was recovering from her own embarrassment and did not appear to notice his.
“The countess and I were traveling to the Dragon Duchies,” Sophia explained. “Kate had come to speak in Dalgren’s defense, but the griffin wouldn’t take her to the dragon lands. The countess was happy to offer Kate a ride with us in our carriage.”
“Good God!” Phillip murmured.
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