Authors: Deborah Chester
“My
lord,” Hecati said nervously, keeping an eye on the
jinja.
“We have not encouraged
Elandra to loiter about during the fittings and viewings. The child would have
only been bored, and I didn’t want her to feel envious or left out by seeing
the sumptuous gowns which are so far above her own station.”
Albain
looked blank. “I’m sure Elandra has no cause to feel envy. Her own gowns are
pretty enough. I’ve made sure of that. Except for this ugly rag she’s wearing
this morning.”
Elandra
stared at him and felt fresh emotions welling up inside her. How to explain
that his gilts were locked away in the cupboard, to be worn only on rare
important occasions when she and Bixia dined with him?
Hecati
was sputtering, but her voice died away when Albain shot her a sharp glance.
“Or
does my daughter have pretty gowns to wear? It seems that whenever I glimpse
her running through the grounds or the palace, she is always dressed in dull
garb like this. Dressed like a servant.”
“Too
many pretty things make a young girl vain,” Hecati said. “Besides, Bixia must
come first.”
“Of
course Bixia comes first,” Albain said impatiently. “That does not mean Elandra
is to be neglected. I have spoken to you about this before, Hecati. I thought
the matter settled.”
“Of
course, my lord,” Hecati said in a voice as smooth and brittle as glass.
“Elandra,
have you anything to complain about?” Albain asked.
She
drew in a sharp breath, ready to Tell him everything, but Hecati cleared her
throat in soft warning.
Involuntarily
Elandra tensed. Since childhood she had been trained not to tell her father
anything. She could not count how many whippings it had taken to make the habit
of silence strong within her. Now she stood tongue-tied and afraid, despising
herself for her own cowardice, yet unable to take the chance he offered her.
Albain
swung away impatiently. “I do not like to hear of these disturbances,” he said
grouchily, tapping his gauntlets on his palm, his gaze already darting about
the room. “It is unbecoming for ladies.”
Elandra
held back what she might have said. He hated arbitration, and household
arguments usually made him furious. He had little patience with hearing both
sides of a matter and often punished everyone involved rather than deal with
the issue. She reminded herself that in a short while Hecati and Bixia would be
gone. Her troubles would be over.
“No
complaints, Father,” she said quietly. “I know my place.”
His
brows lifted, but Hecati nodded. “Exactly,” she said with approval. “The girl
knows her place, which is to serve her sister.”
Albain
made no contradiction, and Hecati smiled with renewed boldness.
“Perhaps,”
she said with false generosity, “I have overreacted. While Elandra made a
dreadful mistake in what she did, I see now that she was only trying to help
her sister last night. Of course the poor misguided child should have asked me
first before undertaking such a project. Much of the disaster could then have
been averted. As it is, I’m afraid Elandra’s mistake will prove to be a very
expensive one for your lordship to remedy.”
His
frown deepened, and Elandra thought about the nine hundred ducats with a fresh
pang of worry.
“I
am sorry for the trouble I have caused, Father,” she said softly. “How can I
make amends for something so costly?”
As
she spoke, she saw a tiny smile of satisfaction flit across Hecati’s mouth.
Elandra knew Hecati was pleased to be able to turn the blame onto her. If
Albain came to think her a fool, or worse, someone who was too much trouble to
keep around, what then would become of her? Her position in his household was
tenuous. She had no rights of her own, and suddenly she had never been more
aware of that. Her breath stilled in her lungs.
Albain
cleared his throat. “It seems to me that the least part of the blame is yours,
daughter.”
Elandra
looked up in surprise.
Hecati
frowned.
He
continued: “Bixia knew this garment was sacred and not to be touched. What was
she doing prancing about in it? Even to show it off to you, Elandra, she had no
business doing that.”
Hecati
tried to speak up, but he scowled at her.
“If
it did not fit, and I do not see how it could, why didn’t she inform you at
once? Why demand that Elandra sit up all night in an effort to mend it? An
insurmountable task, for all this child’s impressive skill with a needle.” His
scowl deepened. “Small wonder she stands here looking dead tired, with dark
circles under her eyes. This is not service. It’s abuse. And why does Elandra
submit to it? Because she’s been trained to think that’s her place? Who did
that to her?”
His
scowl aimed itself at Hecati, who raised both hands.
“Now,
my lord. You must not misunderstand the situation. You requested that I raise
Elandra in domestic training, and—”
“Aye,
teach her how to supervise servants and manage a household,” he said angrily. “Teach
her grace and poise and accomplishments, not to run about in a patched gown a
scullion would be ashamed to wear, with dirt on her cheek and her hair
uncombed, and her spirit fair scared out of her.”
“She’s
a headstrong, temperamental girl,” Hecati replied with equal heat. “Hard to
train and rebellious. Strong measures have been called for to teach her her
place. If I’ve made her take a servant’s role to Lady Bixia from time to time,
it’s only to make her understand that she is not Lady Bixia’s equal.”
“Isn’t
she?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
“Of
course not. The factors of her birth—”
“Elandra’s
mother was better born than Bixia’s!” he roared.
Hecati
sniffed. “But not under lawful union with yourself, my lord.”
“At
our rank, what does that matter?” he said. “You have common ideas, woman. Aye,
and common morals as well.”
Reddening,
Hecati drew herself up. “I can see my years of effort are unappreciated. Well,
you’ll soon learn for yourself what your baseborn daughter’s really like when
you’re thrown into her company, my lord. Perhaps you will regret not heeding my
warnings about her.”
“Elandra
is not to blame for what transpired between her mother and me,” he said.
“Her
very presence is an affront to Bixia and the memory of my dear sister Ousia!”
Hecati cried.
“And
so you punish Elandra because you cannot punish me?” he retorted, his voice
very quiet and very, very angry now.
The
room fell silent. Hecati looked tense and alarmed, as though she realized she
had gone too far.
Albain
turned to Elandra and stared at her hard.
It
was a glare such as he gave his men during inspection. She felt reduced to a
speck, insignificant and worthless. She had fallen short of his expectations
somehow, and yet she did not see how she could have done better ... unless it
was to have avoided the traps Bixia set for her.
Elandra’s
mouth went dry. She was so tired. Her eyes felt like grit. Her wits were
muddled. All she wanted was for him to dismiss her so that she could escape
this room and this woman. But she dared not give way to tears or exhaustion.
Albain despised weakness in anyone. The only way to keep his good favor was to
be strong. She could not whimper. She could not sway. With all her willpower
she forced herself to meet his gaze steadily, her chin high and her aching
shoulders straight. It was a struggle to keep her mouth from trembling.
Albain
snapped his fingers. “
Jinja
, here.”
The
creature darted to his side immediately.
Albain
pointed at Elandra. “It is ended,” he said angrily. “It has gone on long
enough. Release her.”
Before
Elandra could even guess at what he meant, the
J
inja
jumped at her. Its hands
brushed across her face, and it was as though ice touched her skin.
A
wave of dizziness passed through her. She swayed, blinking against a sudden
blur in her vision. For a moment she felt strangely cold and empty. Her mind
was blank. She opened her mouth, but could not speak.
Albain’s
arm steadied her. “Gently, my girl,” he said with kindness. “It will pass
quickly.”
Even
as he spoke, the dizziness faded. She blinked and felt stronger, more
confident, somehow free. She could not explain it, and gazed at him in
puzzlement.
Oddly
enough, it was he who avoided her eyes now.
His
gaze returned to Hecati, who still looked alarmed.
“You
took much advantage of what has been commanded of us, sister-in-name. How will
you treat her now?”
Hecati’s
nostrils flared a moment; then she seemed to rally. “She has always been
difficult. What will she do now that you’ve unleashed her to act as she
pleases? Let her tear down the palace?”
Elandra’s
puzzlement grew. She looked at first one and then the other. “I don’t
understand.”
“Well,”
her father said uneasily. “Well, perhaps it is better some things are left
unsaid.” For a moment he studied her with an odd expression on his face. “You
are a good girl, Elandra. A good daughter. You think I don’t know what goes on
in this household, that I’ve been blind to the way you’ve been treated, but
that’s not so. I let it happen.”
Elandra’s
eyes widened. She stared at him with growing shock.
“Aye,
I did. And hard it was, too. I stepped in sometimes, when Hecati was getting
too harsh with you.”
Her
eyes filled with angry tears. He knew nothing about it, for all his boasting.
He knew not a tenth of what she’d undergone. For an instant she felt larger
than he, older than he, wiser than he. She saw that her hope of becoming his
companion was doomed. It was too late for them. Too much had happened. Too
little had happened.
Her
silence seemed to disturb him.
“I
had ... advice as to how to raise you,” he said, wriggling his blocky shoulders
uneasily. “None of that matters now. I see you can stand up for yourself when
you have to. But you’re not vindictive or petty. You’ve got a generous heart,
my girl. And I’m proud of you.”
A
few minutes ago his unexpected praise would have made her smile. She would have
soaked it up like sunshine after long days of rain. Now she stared at him,
unmoved. She felt as though she were being turned to stone, losing all feeling
an inch at a time.
He
took her hands in his and turned them over. His eyes flickered when he saw how
work-roughened they were. Then his gaze turned misty and he pulled her into his
arms for a hard, fierce hug that nearly crushed her.
“I’ll
miss you most of all,” he whispered.
When
he let her go, she stared at him in bewilderment. “But I’m staying here with
you,” she said. “I thought—” She broke off abruptly, fear piercing her anew.
He
shook his head. “No, my child,” he said gently. “I could not tell you before.
You’re going with Bixia.”
Elandra’s
mouth fell open. Anger rushed over her, driving back the fear and the
disappointment. So this was her future? To spend her life at the beck and call
of Bixia? To mouse about with her head down and her back beaten, pledged in
eternity to Bixia’s service? She choked on what filled her throat.
Hecati
stepped forward. “My lord, it’s too generous of you, but really you do not need
to send Elandra along as a companion to Lady Bixia. The time has come to
separate the girls. Let each of them follow the paths of their far different
lives.”
Albain
ignored her. His eyes remained on Elandra, who stood there frozen with fury and
shock. “Go and put on one of your pretty gowns. Put up your hair as befits your
rank. Have one of the maids pack your things. There isn’t much time.”
But
she could not move. Her heart was thudding so hard she could scarcely hear him.
Sent away. Her mother had sent her away, years ago. All her life she’d feared
the day when her father would do the same thing. And now it was upon her.
Kicked out. Unwanted.