Summers at Castle Auburn (21 page)

She yawned again. “I wasn't worried. You're always off by yourself. I knew you'd be back in time.”

I stared at her, what little of her face I could see. “Then—” I shut my mouth. “I've got to go bathe, or I'll never be ready in time,” I said. “Can I come in while you're getting your hair done?”

“Of course. Come in sooner, and Daria will do yours as well.”

I rose to my feet. “I'll just braid it back. I know how I like it. I'll see you in an hour or so.”

I slid out of her chamber, down the hall and into my own room, where I stood for a long time with my back against the door. If not Elisandra, then who had been so worried about me all afternoon that riders had to be sent in search of me and escorts awaited me on the castle steps? Earlier in the week, I had cursed my newfound gift of true seeing, but now everything was more confused than before. I shook my head, as if that would clear it, and went to call Cressida for a bath.

 

D
INNER THAT NIGHT
was the most extravagant I had seen at Castle Auburn. Close to two hundred sat down at the ten tables set up in the great dining hall, and their array of shimmering silk and flashing jewels made a tapestry of color under the mellow gold light of a thousand candles. Fantastic centerpieces graced each table, topiary in the shapes of animals, wood carved to resemble gargoyles, stone chiseled in the flowing shapes of men and women circling in a dance, all of them plumed with fountaining water. Every woman was dressed to catch the eye of the prince; every man was dressed to distract the women. Opulence lay across us all like an opiate perfume.

The servants brought course after course of food: honeyed fruits, glazed vegetables, stuffed fowl, braised beef, creamed potatoes, herbed bread, dips, sauces, spices, garnishments. Then the sweets came around: caramels, pastries, cakes, candies. It hurt to eat. I could not imagine summoning the energy, after this, to twirl around the dance floor in a waltz.

There was so much food, and everyone ate it so greedily, that there was almost no conversation during the entire course of the meal. Therefore it did not matter much to me that Hennessey of Mellidon sat on my right and Holden of Veledore on my left. I exchanged the merest of pleasantries with them between spooning up my soup and biting into another biscuit.

When the last guest had refused the last piece of pie, Lord Matthew rose to his feet. He, of course, sat just to the left of Bryan at the head table; with them sat Kent, Elisandra, Greta, Dirkson, and a ravishingly beautiful woman named Thessala of Wirsten. When he stood, the slight murmur of conversation that the overstuffed gourmands had managed to produce fell instantly silent.

Lord Matthew surveyed the crowd. “Thank you all for coming,” he said in serious, measured tones. “We are pleased to extend our hospitality to such an illustrious collection of friends. And I hope that you all will join me now in the traditional double toast of Auburn, to the health of the prince and the prosperity of the realm.”

He paused to pick up two glasses—water in his left hand, wine in his right. Everyone at all ten tables hastily checked or refilled their own glasses from the bottles and carafes before them. I had drained my water glass three times but barely touched my wine, so I quickly poured a mouthful of water into my lefthand goblet.

The regent raised his water glass, and everyone else in the room followed suit. “To the prince,” Matthew said. The crowd roared back, “To the prince!” We all sipped from our glasses. Matthew raised his other hand. “To the realm,” he said. It was not my imagination that the reply this time was a little more heartfelt:
“To the realm!”
We all tossed back our wine. Bryan came to his feet and made a fluid bow, and a ragged cheer went up from most of the men and women gathered in the hall. Some, I noticed—mostly men—remained silent during this spontaneous show of approval; but all of the women were applauding madly.

“True in water.” Matthew intoned the customary benediction. Those familiar with the blessing responded, “True in wine.”

Bryan sat, but Matthew still stood, his glasses restored to the table and his arms flung out for silence. “It is important,” he said, his strong voice carrying easily across the room, overriding even the trailing murmurs of conversation, “that we all realize why we are gathered together this day. To celebrate another successful year, yes. To renew our bonds of fealty and affection, yes. To enjoy the hospitality of the prince in a great festival of music and wine—that also.”
Matthew permitted himself a small smile. The crowd laughed with disproportionate amusement. Matthew's smile disappeared.

“But we are all truly here together for another, more crucial reason,” he resumed. “We are here to remind ourselves that we are indeed a kingdom—not eight provinces linked by a common language, a favorable trade exchange, and advantageous marriages over the past two centuries. We are a kingdom, with one head and many limbs, one heart and many organs, one center, one soul. One year from now, my nephew will take his crown. We all will gather again to witness that spectacular event. Let us plan now to make ourselves stronger, richer, more faithful and more loyal in the months ahead. We are united now under a regent. We will be seamless then under the hand of the king.”

He raised his empty hands, and again the crowd clamored out its approval. But to my ears, the shouting sounded a little perfunctory, not passionate or convinced. Kent had told me that some of the lords were reluctant to take a boy as their king, and in the faces around me I clearly perceived that reluctance—and a certain calculation. Matthew could not have said more clearly that he expected complete compliance and fealty as the power in the realm changed over; but I could tell that his open warning had not impressed everyone. It was odd to sit there amid the glitter and the ceremony, hearing the calls and clapping all around me, and know that some of the nobles were debating their options. The world was not so simple and harmonious as it had always seemed.

After that, Dirkson of Tregonia got up to make a speech, and then Goff of Chillain. Bryan said a few words, mostly pretty diplomatic expressions of pleasure at the large numbers of nobles in attendance. After that, three men I didn't recognize rose to their feet and made long, solemn testaments to the strength of the realm, and I could feel myself begin to grow sleepy. All that wine, all that food, all that talk. I squirmed in my crimson dress and forced my eyes wide open.

Finally all the posturing was over, and Matthew was on his feet again. “To the ballroom!” he announced. “Let us celebrate all night!”

This pronouncement revived everyone, and I jumped gladly to
my feet. Suddenly the disadvantages of sitting next to Hennessey became clearer. “Let me be your escort to the ballroom, Lady Coriel,” he begged me, taking my arm in a tight hold. “And dance at least the first number with me. That will make my evening complete.”

“Certainly,” I said with the false smile I had begun to cultivate in the past few weeks. “I will be happy to dance with you.”

Despite that unpromising beginning, it really was a wonderful evening. Hennessey, though not a naturally graceful man, had made some effort to learn the common dances, and we managed to get through the first two pieces with actual pleasure. He relinquished me to the first noble who asked for my hand, and I only saw him once or twice after that. I did notice that he danced with Marian a couple of times, and she looked quite giddy at his attention. I thought that she would find Mellidon a lovely place. I hoped she got a chance to visit it soon.

As for me, I didn't much care who else asked to be my partner—I simply loved the opportunity to dance at all. I had never been quite this popular before, and I realized that Kent had told me even more truths that first morning I was back. I had been put forward as a prize worth winning, and more than a handful of nobles were making it clear that they considered my lineage acceptable, if colorful. I scarcely sat down all night.

My most memorable moment, of course, came when Bryan claimed his promised waltz. I had been making a flirtatious curtsey to my most recent partner when Bryan swept up behind me and caught me in his arms. I could not repress a little shriek, for he swung me around, quite lifting me off my feet, before setting me down and dropping into a magnificent bow.

“My dance, lady, I believe,” he said, and closed his arms around me the instant the music started playing. I was breathless from his embrace even before we started romping around the room, and the expression on his face made it even harder to breathe. He was watching me intently, paying no attention to the couples on the floor around us, and a small smile flickered around his lips. He seemed to be appraising me, the texture of my skin, the shape of my eyes,
the modeling of my cheekbones, the promise of my smile. He was seductive; he was mesmerizing. I could not look away, though I felt the heat slowly rise across every surface of my face.

“Yes,” he said at last, in a slow, drawling voice, “I think you would be worth just about any coin. It's a shame you are exactly who you are, or I might pay the fortune to find out if I was right.”

I was not entirely sure what this meant, though I could hazard a guess, and I felt my blush grow even hotter. “You're holding me too close, Bryan,” was all I said in reply. “I can hardly breathe.”

He laughed at that, squeezed me even tighter, then relaxed his hold. “I cannot imagine I am the only man tonight who has been so bold,” he said.

“No, everyone has been most well behaved,” I said demurely.

He laughed even more loudly at that. “Not for long, I wager,” he said. “If you were to take a little walk—out to the balcony, for instance, or even farther, to the gardens, I think you might be surprised at just how ungentle a gentleman might be.”

I opened my eyes wide. “But I don't want to go to the gardens,” I said. “I want to stay here and dance.” This made him smile again.

We had danced so long in charged silence that now the music was drawing to a close. Bryan twirled me around and around until I was almost too dizzy to stand, and then he released me to make his final bow. I dropped clumsily into my own curtsey, thinking perhaps I might just tumble forward onto the floor. For the first time, I wished I might take a few moments and sit down to recover.

This wish was not to be granted. Someone took my arm just as I was straightening to my full height, and I was pulled back into the next set before I even recognized my partner.

It proved to be Jaxon.

I stiffened in his hold, but he did not seem to notice. He was smiling down at me with a great deal of energy and fondness. “First all the petty nobles, then the prince, and now Lord Halsing himself,” he greeted me. “Lady Coriel has made quite a series of conquests tonight.”

A ballroom was not the place for serious conversation; you did not accuse a man of slavery and brutality in a glittering sea of
fashion and music. I forced myself to smile. This was such an easy game to play I could not believe I had not learned it sooner. “And, of course, my best partner is my current partner,” I said. “I endured all the rest of them merely to have this moment with you.”

He laughed and then patted my back. “You do me proud, you and your sister,” he said. He sounded more sincere than I had. “Your father would have adored both of you. So, it's up to me to do it in his place.”

Maybe it was the woeful timbre of the violins—attempting though they were to make gay music—that made his voice sound, to me, unexpectedly sad. I tried to peer through the riotous curl of beard, through the ruddy layer of skin, to the soul beneath. Who was this man who could love me, love my sister, then turn around and wantonly destroy a stranger?

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked at random, just to hear him speak again.

“Oh, it's a grand party!” he said carelessly. “Trust Matthew to do it up right. I couldn't spend more than a week in such a place with such people—give me freedom and the open skies!—but I enjoy the talk and the music and the pretty ladies.” He patted my shoulder again.

I had been right the first time. His sonorous voice echoed through a hollow place of sorrow, catching its reverberations from those ragged walls. His gaiety masked a deep well of loneliness; he was a bright outward shape wrapped around shadows. It frightened me to see this so clearly, as if I suddenly found I was waltzing with a ghost through the multicolored fantasy of a dream. All my love rushed back for him, complicated and partisan.

“Uncle Jaxon—” I said, my tone warm and urgent.

He laughed and gave me a little shake. “So, tell me about your triumphs tonight, Corie! Who do you like? That Hennessey? He's a good match, but you might do better. And the viceroy's castle is so far from Auburn. You need someone closer, in Tregonia perhaps, or maybe even Auburn itself. The Halsing estates are at the Tregonia border—maybe we should look near there for your proper husband.”

“I don't care about husbands,” I said. “Uncle Jaxon—”

“Well, you should care, but that's all right. Greta and I will care for you,” he said, smiling again.

Impossible to change the subject; impossible to introduce a serious one. I gave up, and let him reel off for me the names of acceptable matches. But I watched him, and I grew more convinced. Something was seriously wrong with my uncle Jaxon, and I cared more than I had believed possible that there should be a way to fix it.