features and that multicolored hair,
Lady Lydia had been the perfect
hostess, the perfect queen. And then
she’d birthed Varian, the spare, who
had been adorable as a baby, beautiful
as
a
teenager,
and
dashingly
handsome as a man. During that time,
Lydia and Vulcan had been coolly
polite toward each other, more like
formal strangers who coexisted in the
same castle, with her giving undivided
attention to Varian as Frederick
groomed Vulcan, despite his young
age, to be king.
Shaking his head, Vulcan thought of
what Vernon had said. Did she intend
to stay for the Season? He nodded,
thinking it a good thing. The lady
would show Jaisyn the ways of the
Morden Court. He stood, intent on
seeking out his stepmother to greet
her formally and welcome her to the
castle. He would soon have to speak
to his wife about the court season and
the preparations that were to be made
for it. Although Vulcan was not fond
of court, he had developed a liking for
it, for through the lens of court it was
easy to the first indications of unrest.
It was usually obvious which vassals
were
contemplating
an
uprising
against his rule.
***
Jaisyn had changed from her
traveling clothing and was now
outfitted in one of the gowns Vulcan
purchased for her. The dress was of a
strawberry hue, and long of sleeve,
with a square neckline that dipped into
a slight v at the center, encrusted with
small pearls, and white hemming at
the bottom of the full skirts. She
walked ahead of her ladies and sisters
as they made their way down the
steps of the castle and into the Great
Hall, where supper was to be served.
She was announced and she filed in,
searching out Vulcan, who sat at the
head of a table that had been moved
closer to the fire that burned at the
hearth. The table held empty seats at
the other end, for herself and her
ladies. She began to make her way
over, staring at her husband, and the
ladies who sat to his right. One was a
young lady, about her age, if not
slightly younger. She was beautiful,
with high cheekbones, luminous pale
skin, and long, shiny black hair that
had been swept atop her head and
pinned. The dress she wore was dark,
possibly a dark green, and when
Jaisyn’s eyes found hers—a stunning
violet—the woman dipped her head
respectfully.
Jaisyn arrived at her place, and
turned to look at the older woman.
Unlike the younger, this woman faced
Jaisyn boldly, and a small smile
curved her lips. A wave of her hand
and her chair was pulled back by a
servant. She stepped away from the
table and approached Jaisyn and her
ladies.
When the dowager was close
enough that Jaisyn could see her
exceptional features—the thin face
and delicate bone structure, striking
blue eyes, lustrous hair of all shades—
she curtsied, the black dress she wore
sweeping the floor, and then offered a
pale hand, bejeweled with the
precious stones of the earth.
“It is a pleasure to meet my first
daughter-in-law, Her Majesty, the
new Queen of Morden,” the woman
said
loudly,
and
Jaisyn’s
eyes
widened. Now she knew why her
features seemed similar. This was
Varian’s mother, and she now saw
where Varian had received his good
looks. But Varian was at least in his
late twenties and this woman barely
looked a day over thirty.
Remembering herself, Jaisyn dipped
her head and took the woman’s hand,
a smile forming on her lips.
“Lady
Mor’an,”
she
said
courteously, passing a quick glance to
her husband, who was standing, like
everyone else, and looked irresolute.
“It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The lady nodded and they both
returned their hands to their sides.
“I regret that I was indisposed when
you first arrived and could not give
you the welcome you deserved. I also
regret not being present for the
marriage of my elder son,” she paused
for effect and Jaisyn could almost see
the frown on Vulcan’s face, before
she continued, “but alas, I was quite
unaware of it until you were brought
here.”
Lady Mor’an suddenly turned and
faced the generals and nobles standing
on the side of the table. “I will sit next
to my daughter-in-law. You will all
kindly move one seat over.” She faced
Jaisyn once more. “We have much to
discuss, my dear.”
***
After her first conversation with
Lady Lydia Mor’an, Jaisyn agreed
with Anne. She was demanding. After
ordering everyone to move seats, the
lady had sat beside Jaisyn and during
supper, had proceeded to have an
inquisition on her life. She’d asked
about her parents, siblings, Lytheria...
At some point, someone seated
beside Lydia asked a question of the
lady. It was enough for Jaisyn to focus
momentarily on her husband, who
was engrossed in conversation with
the lady who’d been sitting opposite
Lydia. She scanned the table and was
surprised to see that Lady Savoy was
nowhere in sight. In fact, the only
eligible lady who flanked him was the
violet-eyed woman, as an elderly
matron now sat where his stepmother
had been. Jaisyn’s eyes remained on
Vulcan as he smiled at the something
the young woman said, as her small
hand reached out and touched his in a
manner that unnerved her. Lips
tightening, eyes narrowing, and fists
clenching on her lap, she continued to
watch
them.
He
had
barely
acknowledged her for almost two
weeks and here he was, practically
flirting with another woman, at her
table.
“Pay them no mind, my dear.” The
lady must have noticed the tenseness
of her face for she looked toward her
niece and stepson and said those
words. “My niece, Lady Calista, and
Vulcan are childhood friends. I am
sure
they
are
only
becoming
reacquainted, as they have not seen
each other in years. I heard that you
were taken to Sulan after the
unfortunate event of which we will not
speak. Were you treated pleasantly, at
least?”
Lydia’s attempt at putting Jaisyn’s
mind at ease had done the exact
opposite. Although she relaxed the
muscles in her face and responded to
the lady’s many questions, her eyes
skimmed over her husband and Calista
every so often. Childhood friends?
The woman was at complete ease
around her husband, unlike most of
the women, save for his ex-lovers,
she’d encountered in Morden.
“I have heard that Lytheria is warm
year round. Is that true, my dear? I
wonder however does my Varian deal
with that heat? He does enjoy the cold
so. How did you put up with the heat?
Morden experiences warm days
merely three months a year before it
is plunged once more into the blissful
cold.”
Jaisyn looked back to the lady, who
was staring at her with an open
expression and an easy smile. Jaisyn
nodded and gave her undivided
attention, including her ladies and her
sisters in the conversation as Lydia
wished to hear as much as possible
about her kingdom of birth.
***
The days that passed were similar to
that day in the Great Hall. Every meal
served found Calista seated beside
Vulcan and Lydia next to Jaisyn.
Vulcan had barely said more than a
mouthful of words to her in almost
five entire days and when he’d been
forced to speak to her, it was as if he
were speaking to a stranger. He’d told
her, quite coolly, that Lady Mor’an
would instruct her in the things
needed to be done for the upcoming
Season. And that was the extent of
their
conversation.
Lydia
had
introduced her to Calista but for all of
Jaisyn’s diplomacy, she could not find
a smile for the woman, who was even
more beautiful than she’d first
observed. Calista seemed well aware
of it.
Along with her sisters and ladies,
and of course, a horde of armed
warriors, she, Lydia and her ladies,
and her niece of course, took two
carriages into the city, to Madame
Lefroy’s dress shop, where exclusive
gowns were to be created for the
upcoming Season. Jaisyn had been
surprised when they’d been allowed
from the gates, as she’d half-expected
Vulcan to ride in front of the carriages
and stop them. No such thing
happened. It was as if her husband
had dismissed her from his mind.
Perhaps he still felt betrayed by her
actions, but he did not show it. He
made no move to seek her out, even
to argue with her, and Jaisyn’s pride
had already suffered when she’d
confessed her love for him and he had
not returned it. And he avoided her
bed, which hurt her more than
anything, as more than a few of their
disputes had been settled there.
“What do you think of this gown,
milady
Lydia?”
Lady
Calista’s
incessant voice wafted over her like a
splash of cold water, reminding her
that she was standing inside the
spacious store filled with both
conservatively
appropriate
and
scandalously revealing gowns. Lydia,
Anne, and Jane sat on plush chairs in
the various corners of the shop while
Isolde, Mathilda, and Calista had been
so taken by the new dress styles that
would grace the upcoming Season that
they’d begun trying them on. Jaisyn,
who had rested her legs enough in the
carriage, stood staring out of the large
shop window, smiling and waving at
times when a curious child passed by.
The simple presence of warriors
surrounding the store alerted most
people that a royal, more than likely
the queen as it was a dress shop, was
inside.
“It is quite beautiful, Calista. And it
fits you very well, my dear. You shall
be the talk of the Season once more.
Perhaps you will catch the eye of a
duke…if not a handsome foreign
prince?” Lydia laughed softly at her
playfulness and Calista beamed,
turning to look at herself in the long
and wide looking glass.
Jaisyn had been determined not to
turn to see Lydia sashay herself about
the room but curiosity was an
interesting thing. She turned her face
slightly before returning her attention
to the bustling outside the shop. The
dress was cut exquisitely, with
lavender-colored lace loops adorning
the tops of her arms, and lining the
low neckline of the dress. The pale
skin at the top of her back was on
display as well. While the dress was
revealing, it was not overly so. It was
a flowing violet silk, gathered at the
waist, then flared out beautifully to the
toes. It matched Calista’s eyes to
perfection and Jaisyn scowled at her
thoughts.
She was jealous and disliked it.
After a few more hours in the dress
shop,
the
dressmaker
and
her
assistants had recorded the types of
dresses and cuts that the queen and
rest of the ladies wished for the
Season.
When they returned to the castle,
Lydia and her party retired to their
quarters for afternoon rest, and Jane
and Anne walked back to their