Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (23 page)

"I'm not sure. As ruler, it's sometimes difficult finding true sentimentality amidst the gentry because they're all so busy trying to gain favor. But I am all too aware the people are unhappy and fault the aristocracy for their poverty."

"About that," I said. "I hadn't realized until recently that there was such a discrepancy between the people and the aristocracy. Is it as extreme here as it is in Valdon?"

"Yes, though my husband chooses to ignore it." Her anger flared, as did her grip on my arm. "I do what I can in the community, but there's only so much I can do. They've been oppressed for so long, I fear their anger is inherited, growing stronger with each new generation. Commodus is so busy squabbling amongst the gentry, he doesn't acknowledge it as he should. Gaia help him should they find a leader. Rebellions need only a figurehead to give them the legs to run."

"If things are that bad, I'm surprised Sir Dunmore is able to assimilate troops."

Her lips tightened. "He's having a difficult time."

I looked over at her. Danton hadn't told me that—hadn't even alluded to it, not once over breakfast or lunch. Before I could voice my concern, Cora continued, "Orindor's men
will
be marching through Valdon to Castle Regius. There just aren't as many as we'd hoped. They are good people, and unanimously stalwart when it comes to defending
their
lands, but with what we're asking of them, to leave their families and homes to fight for a king many of them resent…well, it's no easy task for Sir Dunmore."

A spark of anger flared as I stared ahead. Not as many as they'd hoped? What did that mean? "How many men have agreed to fight?" I asked.

"You'll have to speak with my son. My husband shares very little of consequence with me, and last I heard was from Danton early this morning. The count was somewhere around fifty."

I couldn't hide my shock. "
Fifty
?"

"Shh…not another word on the matter." Her voice hardened, and then I realized we were approaching a very grand and guarded pair of double doors.

Cora led me inside, thus beginning our short rehearsal of the events. It wasn't much—just bullet points of who would be doing this and announcing that, and how I'd need to respond and behave. I had a hard time focusing, though, because my mind kept wandering back to what she'd said. Fifty. My marriage in exchange for fifty men. Fifty men were supposed to help Stefan fight against ten thousand!

I would be talking to Danton about this later. He could count on that.

All the while, servants bustled about, arranging flowers and garlands atop tables with fancy coverings and candles, transforming a huge, hollow box of a room into a lush and exotic conservatory. Red flowers dripped from the ceiling like hanging moss, and black velvet coverings decorated tables with red petals spilled all over them. And there were jewels—so many jewels, wrapped around candelabras and dripping from the wall sconces like shimmering vines. I was certain the "ordinary" people of Orindor would just
love
this little display. One of those jewels could probably feed an entire family for a year. The solution to bolstering their anemic army dripped all over this room!

One square of space was left open for dancing, and a harp was wheeled in, stationed in a far corner. I had no idea how this had been arranged in one day's time, and I could only imagine the chaos in the kitchens below. I was watching two servants argue over the placement of what looked like a huge fountain of chocolate fondue when Danton found me. I was about to bring up his army of fifty when I realized he wasn't alone.

I knew at once the young man beside him had to be Carter, because he was the spitting image of Lord Commodus Pontefract. He was shorter, though, maybe a hair taller than me, but his hair was that same midnight black, glossy as satin and slicked back, his face composed of unforgiving sharp angles. Unlike his father, his eyes weren't Pontefract blue. He'd inherited his mother's eyes, rich and velvety like the fountain of chocolate fondue the servants had finally decided to set beside a vase of bright red flowers. Where Danton was all refined and lean muscle, his brother was built like an ox, and when I glanced down at his hands, I wasn't surprised to see them covered in fine little white scars.

"Daria, I'd like you to meet my brother, Carter," Danton said. His face was unreadable, but I could feel his nerves twitching.

Carter's face had as much expression as a blank canvas, but when I slid my consciousness toward him, I felt his resentment and irritation bubbling hot. I didn't think those feelings were directed at me.

I stuck out my hand and smiled at Carter. "Hi, Carter. It's a pleasure."

He accepted my hand with little warmth. Actually, standing outside right now without a cloak would probably feel warmer.

"Carter arrived a little over an hour ago," Danton continued, "and I wanted to introduce him to you before everyone arrived."

"Thanks, I'm glad you did," I said, then turned to Carter, who stared past me, his mind worlds away. He looked so bored I thought he probably wished he
was
worlds away. "Danton said you live about a three-hour ride from here. Hopefully the weather held for you…?"

The weather? Seriously, Daria?

Well…?

"It didn't." Carter still wasn't looking at me, and he sounded totally put out.

Danton must've thought so too, because he frowned at Carter. No wonder Lord Commodus Pontefract had shipped Carter off to live with Cora's family. He was a liability to Lord Pontefract's reputation within their social and political circles. Therefore, I immediately wanted to be his friend.

"Hm, well then let's hope that same weather keeps most of the guests away." I grinned at him.

His gaze returned to the present and settled on me with thinly veiled irritation.

"I hate large crowds," I continued, feeling Danton's wariness blossom, "and I really don't like being the subject of them, because that means I can't hide in a corner all night. Which is what I prefer."

Carter squinted at me, bewildered and skeptical, as if he suspected I was drawing him into some kind of verbal field littered with landmines.

"I think you two have that in common," Danton added. "Carter abhors every function he's forced to attend."

I smiled and was about to say something else when a voice said, "Ah, there you are."

Lord Commodus Pontefract barged into our triad, apparently to speak with his youngest son, whom he was currently frowning at. Carter seemed to be a magnet for frowns. "You're supposed to be at the gate welcoming our guests."

By the look on Carter's face, I figured this designation had been crafted as an insult.

"I asked to borrow him for a moment, Father," Danton said. "I thought he should meet his future sister-in-law before the guests arrive."

Lord Pontefract's frown deepened. "Whatever for? He'll have the rest of his inconsequential life to show her what a worthless lout he is. Go. Now."

I was appalled.

Carter's cheeks splotched pink, but before he turned to leave, I placed a hand on his arm. "Carter."

He started at my touch.

"I'm really glad to meet you," I continued, and I meant it. "And if you're at all allowed back inside for the dancing, please save one for me. I'd really like to get to know you better—especially since we're going to be family. I have a brother of my own, you know. We're really close too, but since he lives so far from here, it would mean a lot to me if you could stand in for him while I live here, and I have a feeling you'll be perfect for the job. I'm a Pandor, you know. I can sense these things." I gave him a genuine, but timid smile.

He didn't smile back, and my words were met with a very awkward pause. It was the kind of pause when you've said something either wrong or offensive on so many levels, unbeknownst to you, and the people you've just said it to stand there in a moment of shared discomfort while trying not to be obvious about it. Which they always are.

Lord Pontefract broke the silence, and the moment. "Carter." It was as if his gaze were physically pushing Carter away.

Carter bowed his head and slipped away, and I turned back to find Lord Pontefract watching me. He opened his mouth to say something I knew would be a rebuke, but then his gaze fell to my necklace and he faltered. I felt his surprise, and then anger flashed in his cold eyes as they lifted to mine.

"Danton, a word, please."

Danton excused himself with perfect control and followed his father through a narrow archway and out of sight. I waited for them, pretending not to be watching the doorway while trying not get run over by servants. Danton and his father returned right as the guests started arriving, but Danton didn't come to my side. He cast me a furtive glance, then busied himself with greeting the guests.

The guests were an opulent bunch, just like the court in Valdon had been. Dressed and pressed and glittering like the jewels on the wall scones. Lord Pontefract announced our engagement to the crowd—there wasn't another word about the necklace—and I responded as Cora had instructed. The news was met with loud cheers, which were undoubtedly made louder by the endless supply of wine and ale. A reception like this could've lifted anyone's spirits, but I was too aware of what was happening to my brother in Valdon. Here I was, dressed in this too-rich gown wearing this too-rich necklace in the middle of a too-rich celebration, and my brother was pacing the castle walls, staving off an army of shadowguard.

As the evening progressed, Danton continued avoiding me. He led me into the first dance, all smiles and grace, but it was forced—overdone and unnatural.

"What was that about, anyway?" I asked him while he twirled me.

"What was what about?"

"Your father." I prodded. "Is he mad about the necklace?"

"Why would he be?"

All right, fine. He wanted to play dumb.

"Because the necklace is a political statement…?"

"Who told you that?" Danton snapped.

"Your mother," I said.

His eyes narrowed a shade, but he continued turning me around with grace. "She has a tendency to…overstate things."

"Did she also overstate your army of
fifty
?"

His eyes flashed to mine, and I knew that he knew he'd been caught.

"We
will
talk about this later," I said.

The dance ended and he bowed. "Of course, your highness." He didn't meet my gaze as he handed me off to another polished gentleman, who ended up being the start of an exhaustive list of dancing-partners.

During my twirling escapades, I noticed Danton had his fill of lady partners. It seemed like every young lady in Orindor adored him, and he retained a charming smile as the hours dragged on. It bothered me how he acted. Not that he danced and thoroughly enjoyed himself with so many young women, but how he so obviously kept a distance he hadn't kept with me since I'd arrived. It was as if he was hiding something from me and was afraid that if I got too close, I might catch a glimpse of it behind his back.

After what felt like forever, Danton interrupted my dance with a short, balding little man who owned a dozen mines on Orindor's southern shores. Tired of dancing, I sighed with relief when Danton cut in.

"I'm flattered you missed me." He gave me that charming smile, and as he pulled me in his arms, I wondered if his face hurt from smiling so much.

"I don't have the stamina for this much dancing," I said.

"Would you like to sit down?"

"Am I allowed to?"

"Of course." He slid his hand into mine and led me through the dancing pairs.

"That doesn't mean
you
have to stop," I said. "I think there are still a few ladies in line for a third dance."

"Unless you're one of them, I'm done for the evening."

He led me through the crowd, still holding my hand and keeping me close. No one approached, seeing me with Danton. Except for her.

Isla emerged in our path, smiling and batting her eyes at Danton. "Good evening, my lord." She bowed low, her cleavage in full view, and Danton didn't bother hiding the fact that he was helping himself. Actually, it looked as if he were taking seconds.

After much too long, Isla stood upright and pressed down the folds of her emerald green skirts, and she regarded me. "Princess Daria. I was hoping I might have the opportunity to speak to you this evening, because I wanted to give you my formal congratulations."

"Thanks," I clipped.

"I wondered if I might have one last dance with his lordship before he's a married man." Isla's smile was huge and flirtatious, and she acted like the idea of marriage was a death sentence. Also, it should be noted she'd already danced with him twice tonight, not that I kept track.

Before I could say a word, Danton—whose eyes finally returned to her face—said, "Thank you, my lady, but I will be attending my fiancée for the remainder of the evening."

Her smile faltered. "Of course, my lord. Enjoy your evening, then." Her gaze simmered on me, just as a sharp pain exploded in my chest.

13

STEFAN

"P
endel isn't coming," Headmaster Ambrose said. "They landed on Campagna's shores early this morning, and Lord Vega's men were there waiting for them. As far as I know, there were no survivors."

I sat on the steps of the dais, staring at my hands while absently spinning the signet ring on my index finger. There used to be a throne on the dais—my grandfather's throne. It too had been a family heirloom, much like the discussion table. The throne had been constructed by my great-grandfather, Cassian Regius, and given to my grandfather on the day of his coronation. It was the first real throne Gaia had seen since the fall of Galahad Estroian, and I'd had it carried off to be used as firewood. It was a heavy chair, made of dense Aliothan oak with iron fastenings. It had taken five men to cart it away, but since my grandfather still hadn't exited his chambers, I felt he'd long forfeited his right to have any say on the matter.