Trusted (9 page)

“Several! Well…what’s it like? I mean…are they different? Or are all men basically the same?”

“Men are about the same in bed as they are in personality. Each is a man, but each is different in their own way. Some are confidant lovers, some are not. Some can fuck until the wee hours and some are done like that!” She snapped her fingers.

Sarea colored at the maid’s crude use of language, but she didn’t correct her. After all, she had started the conversation.

“Me, I tend to prefer men who are the middle ground when it comes to confidence. Too confident and they are cocky and arrogant. Too unconfident and you have to hold their hands throughout the whole process.”

Sarea thought about it and she realized that the king would be a very confident lover. But would he be so to the point of arrogance?

“Are you thinking of taking a lover, my lady?” the maid asked candidly.

“What? No!” Sarea flushed a bright red. “I’m saving myself for my husband. As I should.”

“True, that’s as you should in the eyes of society, but as a woman, you might want to rethink that. Before you tie yourself down to one man, you should experience what is out there.”

“My mother would faint to hear you speak in such ways to me.”

Fere snorted. “Your mother’s not here,” she said. “And I don’t think you’ll tattle on me. You’re a fair mistress and you know it was you that started this conversation. It would be unfair to see me punished for it.”

Sarea met the girl’s eyes in her mirror. “No, of course I won’t tattle.”

“And if you don’t mind my saying so, your mother keeps you in the dark about far too many things.”

Sarea frowned at that. “Such as?”

Fere nibbled on her lip. “I don’t know if I should say.”

“You began this, I insist you finish it,” Sarea said sternly.

“Your mother and father are on the verge of promising you to Hectore, the silk merchant.”

“Hectore! B-but…he’s old!”

“He’s only forty yana old…maybe forty-five.”

“That’s twice my age! Why would they promise me to him? He’s…such a dull man. He has no real wit to him. I hardly know him and I can tell you that about him.”

Fere nibbled her lip again. “He’s a very rich man,” Fere said. “And your father needs the money that would come with your bride price.”

“My bride price! But…why would they need the money?”

“This is what I mean about them leaving you in the dark. Your father’s fortunes are struggling. The blight on last yana’s crops destroyed all profit from last yana and the sicklick took the lives of almost half the livestock. The farmers would be close to starving if your father hadn’t put himself in debt to cover the cost of new animals and crop seed. Now harvest time is here at last and he’ll make some of the money back, but the interest on the loans is very high. It’ll take another season before he’ll be caught up to this yana’s debt and by then more interest will have accrued. The only way to get out ahead of it is to get a good bride price for you.”

“Is that…is that why my mother is pushing me to become the king’s lover? Because it will increase my value?” Sarea asked, utterly appalled.

“Yes, my lady. Hectore is only one suitor. If others hear of you being attended to by the king, they will want you too and a price war will ensue.”

“I am to be bid on like a cow at auction?!” Sarea felt her stomach turn.

“Please, my lady, if your mother should find out that I told you…” Fere looked frightened all of a sudden. It was clear she had not expected Sarea’s volatile reaction.

Sarea calmed herself and grabbed up her maid’s hand. “Never fear,” she said. “Your job is safe.”

“Thank you my lady,” the servant breathed. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“I would never do that to you. You are very good to me Fere.”

“I could say the same about you, my lady.”

Sarea wanted to confront her mother right away, but Sarea could not do that without potentially damaging Fere. So she was left with her head spinning in all directions. Hectore? Of all men, they would choose Hectore for her husband? Was he even a good man? They knew so little of him. He seemed good. Dull, but good. And in the end, isn’t that what would matter? She could do worse and end up with an exciting but cruel husband. Or one who strayed from his mate with others, potentially bringing disease home to his wife. She had heard that happened to a friend of her mother’s.

And what of the king? What would he think if it got back to him that her mother was machinating in this way? What would he think of her? Would he think she was like all the rest of those women who sought to get ahead in the world using her time in his bed?

She did not want him to. She didn’t know when she had started to care about what the king thought of her, but it was important to her that they deal with each other as people…not as titles or level of importance, or lack thereof, in the world. She would not have him think ill of her. Think she was using him.

Oh, what was she worried about anyway? She sighed. It was very likely he would have forgotten all about her by now. Or…perhaps her kisses had not been enough to tempt a man of his experience.

Wait. Did she even want to tempt him? No! Of course not. If he lost interest it would be a good thing.

Wouldn’t it?

Chapter Nine

She was confused as she headed down to breakfast, her mind swirling in all directions, pushing one way and pulling another. She was sitting down just as the bell to the front door rang. The houseman hurried to answer it, and then admitted a messenger in royal livery into the dining room. The messenger brought his message right to her father’s hands, then stood aside.

“I am to await a reply,” the messenger said simply.

Curious, her father opened the seal on the envelope and withdrew the letter within. Her father’s expression changed to one of shock and wonder.

“We’ve been invited to the hunt!” he said.

“What?!” her mother cried, snatching the letter from her father’s hands. She read it quickly, “’To the Lord Shorin and his family, you are hereby invited to attend me today at the royal hunt. We will be meeting in front of the castle…da….da…da…” she fudged over the details, “and it would give me great personal pleasure to have you there. Please do not disappoint me. Your king, Garrick.’”  She then sighed with satisfaction. “This is due to you,” she said, pointing to Sarea.

“Mother! Surely not. It is due to Dakon,” Sarea said hastily when she saw her brother frown. “It is because he is candidate for Trusted.”

“Nonsense. Why would he invite the entire family if it were just about Dakon? No. The king wants to see you. And you will attend him in every way possible.”

“Mother, surely the entire family need not go. Someone must stay home with Sasa. She is too young to hunt.”

“Sasa can stay with cook or Fere or one of the other housemaids. She will be fine. Oh! What to wear!” Her mother came to her and eyed her day dress skeptically. “This won’t do at all. You must wear the blue silk, for it enhances your eyes.”

“Silk! On a hunt? Oh mother, surely not.”

“Silk,” her mother said. Then she turned to the waiting messenger. “Tell the king we are honored and we would be delighted to attend. Houseman, see the boy out.”

The houseman gave her mother a bow and then led the messenger out.

“This is so exciting,” her brother Murl said. “My first hunt!”

“You are only eight yana old! You will not be hunting!” Julea said. “You will sit with the women and leave the hunting to the men and older boys. Denro, Honor, Dakon, you must see to it you wear nice clothes. None of that threadbare stuff you like to run around in.”

“What does it matter what clothes we wear when it will be coming off anyway?” Honor asked teasingly.

“Do you think we will get to join the king’s pride? Perhaps at the rear?”

“The Trusted are in the king’s pride. If anyone is going to join them it will be the candidates for Trusted,” Dakon said sharply.

“Yes, that’s true. You younger boys will have to be in one of the other prides.”

“I’m only a yana younger than Dakon. That hardly seems fair,” Honor complained.

“Fair or not, that is the way of it!” Dakon snapped. Then he jumped to his feet. “I’ve lost stomach for breaking fast. I’ll be upstairs looking for clothes.”

“Well, what’s gotten into him?” Denro asked after he’d left the room.

“Your brother is working hard to earn position as the king’s Trusted,” Sarea said. “It is a great honor to be considered and you all are treating it as if it is nothing.”

“Of course it’s not nothing!” Julea cried. “You both are bringing great recognition onto this house!”

“Both?
Both
?!” Sarea snapped, surging to her feet. “I am doing nothing to bring recognition to this house!”

“Nonsense,” her mother huffed. “The king has turned an eye toward you and you well know it. If you play the game well you could bring great things to this house.”

“I am not playing any game, Mother! I want no part of this! I’m not going to the hunt!”

“You are going,” her mother hissed suddenly, coming to stand before her daughter, “and you are going to be as accommodating as you possibly can. You are going to nurture his affection for you. Oh! Who knows where this could lead? Can you imagine if he were to make you his mistress? What a fine thing for this family!”

“How? How is it a fine thing for the family?” Sarea challenged.

“Oh don’t be thick,” her mother said, turning her back on her daughter and dancing lightly across the room to her husband, whom she kissed on his cheek. “All our troubles will be over!”

“What troubles, Mother?” Sarea pressed.

Julea seemed to realize what she had said but then simply waved it off. “Go and have Fere brush out the blue silk. The hunt is right after midday’s meal. I would have you properly dressed well before then.”

Full of temper, Sarea left the room. She wanted to leave the house, run away until no one could find her. Then they would have to go on the hunt without her. But now knowing the troubles her parents faced, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything that the king might take as an insult. It was clearly the last thing her family needed. Both her parents and Dakon. Her mother was right. Much of their hopes rested on Sarea’s behavior. If she angered the king, all would be affected. If she pleased the king, all would be affected.

But what about what she wanted? When did that come into play? What if she didn’t want to become the king’s lover or mistress? What would happen? Would she be allowed a choice?

Sarea was still fretting over these questions when they arrived at the front of the castle after midday’s meal. When she alighted from the carriage, there was a strong hand helping her down. She was surprised to see Jesso holding her hand.

“You look lovely,” he complimented her. “The king has ordered me to look after you. A hunt can get dangerous and with so much excitement we would hate for any of the ladies to be not taken care of. The king is busy organizing the parties, as you see,” Jesso said, nodding to the right. Sarea was surprised to feel her heart grow suddenly lighter at the sight of him. He was wearing a silk jacket of forest green and was bare-chested beneath. He wore kid breeches that were fitted close to his body, accentuating the muscles of his legs. He wore black riding boots. He looked tall and strong and incredibly handsome. She could hardly take her eyes from him. All she kept remembering was the feel of his hard body against hers and the warmth of his mouth on hers.

“Where do the ladies go?” she asked. She had never been on a hunt before. She had heard they were a much coveted thing to go on, but she had no idea where the ladies came in during a hunt. Women were not allowed to do any of the actual hunting, it was left entirely to the men.

“There will be tents along the border of the redwoods. The ladies will have tea and treats while waiting for the men to gather the kills.”

“But…you cannot mean to miss out on the hunt!”

“No. Once you are in the tent, as long as you remain there, you will be safe and taken care of, leaving me to join the hunt.”

“Oh. Good. I know how much the hunt means to the men. My brothers are so exited to be going. It is their first royal hunt.”

“We should gain enough game to last the castle throughout the winter. The other noblemen here will hunt for their houses as well.”

“But…the Red Wood borders the Umam’s lands as well as ours. Aren’t you afraid of coming afoul an Umam hunting party?”

“It is possible,” Jesso said. “But we are in force. It would be foolish for any of the Umam to try and cause trouble.” He led her away from her family’s coach. “Come, you will ride in the king’s coach.”

Jesso led her to the king’s coach, an open aired coach with plush blue velvet seat, lined with gold braiding. The blue wheels of the coach were polished to a shine, as if it had never seen the dust of the road ever in its life. Seated inside the coach were three other women. One who was mistress to one of the king’s Trusted, Killium she believed, Gersa and…Isobol! Sarea couldn’t believe her eyes. She climbed into the coach and she hugged her friend, who was all excitement.

“A hunt! Isn’t it exciting?”

Sarea could only nod. She wasn't sure if exciting was the proper word for it, but her stomach was definitely in knots.

“It’s just a hunt,” Gersa said dryly. She exchanged a look with the other woman in the conveyance. “Really. These country girls.” She followed the statement with a delicate sniff of disapproval.

The other woman giggled behind a gloved hand.

“It’s rather cool today,” she said. “The weather is changing fast.”

“Are we really to discuss the weather, Nann?” Gersa said.

“Well…I was just noticing, that’s all,” Nann said, becoming immediately subdued.

Isobol didn’t let Gersa’s rudeness deter her excitement in the least.

“Do you think we’ll get to see any of the hunt?” she asked Sarea.

“Don’t be so infantile,” Gersa said. “The hunt takes place deep in the woods. We will be left on the edges.”

“It is her first royal hunt. Leave her be,” Sarea snapped.

Gersa’s eyes narrowed on her meanly.

“Just because you’re presently getting the king’s cock hard doesn’t give you the right to speak to me like that. I am Lord Tyron’s daughter. No one speaks to me like that.”

“Well maybe they should,” Sarea said, not backing down. “There’s no reason why you should be so mean.”

“There’s every reason. I’m being forced to sit in the company of two ridiculous country girls who haven’t got a clue as to how to behave in high society. It’s quite tedious.”

Sarea was about to reply when a horse and rider pulled up to her side of the carriage. She turned and found herself nearly eye to eye with the king.

“Good day to you, Lady Sarea.”

“Good day to you, my king,” she said politely.

“Are you and Lady Isobol comfortable?”

“We are. Thank you,” she said. “But surely there are other ladies who deserve the comfort of your carriage.”

“None that I can think of,” the king said directly, leveling a look at her.

“Well thank you. Isobol is thrilled. And so am I,” she thought to add, afraid he would think her ungrateful. “This is my family’s first royal hunt. The boys are so excited!”

“We’ll make certain the younger ones are in the stag parties. Less dangerous than the boar and tusker parties.”

“Which will you be hunting?” she asked.

“Oh our king goes after the most dangerous of beasts. The tuskers,” Gersa said.

Tuskers were large omnivores with deadly tusks known to rend apart any predators that thought to make a meal of the tusker. It would take a concerted effort to bring one of the beasts down. No one man could do it himself.

“Please…be careful,” she said in an earnest tone. She meant it. She would not wish to see him harmed. The idea of one of those tusks ripping into him…

“Always. Don’t worry. Until I have a proper heir, I’m not going anywhere.”

He reached for her hand, picked it up and kissed it at the wrist. She forced herself not to blush. She was doing that way too often around him. It was just a simple courtesy after all.

“Yes, do be careful!” Gersa said, thrusting her hand out toward the king, leaning across Sarea’s lap to do so. The king had no choice but to pick up Gersa’s hand and kiss her wrist. To do otherwise would have been a blatant snub. Sarea knew he could not afford to do anything to provoke Lord Tyron.

Lord Tyron himself pulled up abreast of the king. He was a large man, like the king, only he was not in as fit a shape as the king was on first appearance. He seemed a little bit more fat than muscle, but not so much so that he would not be a threat. The idea of the king running in a pride with Lord Tyron at his back made Sarea very nervous. Lord Tyron had hair the same chestnut color as the gelding he rode. His eyes were small and spaced wide apart. His nose was a sharp little hook.

Overall he was an ugly, beady eyed man who looked at Sarea with blatant disapproval.

“If you’re done making love to all the ladies, shall we to the hunt?” Tyron asked of the king.

The king frowned, but nodded. He moved away from the carriage and signaled the horn to blow. The group began to move in a huge caravan, some thirty members strong, toward the Red Forest. Gersa chatted with Nann on and off, mostly about court gossip.

“Did you notice that Jesso is paying a fair amount of attention to Kika? Who would have thought? I thought he had better breeding than that. But clearly breeding has nothing to do with taste,” Gersa said, looking down her nose pointedly toward Sarea.

“Clearly good taste has nothing to do with breeding,” Sarea replied tartly.

“Well, since you have neither, who are you to talk?” Gersa giggled with Nann.

“Ignore them, Sarea,” Isobol whispered.

“Believe me, I am,” Sarea said. Gersa’s cattiness did not bother her. She’d been around women who thought girls from the southlands, country girls, were not worth their time before. She hadn’t let it bother her then and she wouldn’t let it bother her now.

When they reached the Red Forest, she could see miles of towering trees with red leaves stretching as far as the eye could see. Close to the edge was a series of tents set up and a great many servants were hurrying about to greet the guests and see them seated. Apparently this was done according to class or importance. The main tent, the king’s tent, was where Jesso led her and Isobol and she once again found herself sitting in Gersa’s company.