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Presley had intended to keep his word to Rohesia and speak with Alice his first full morning in Rawdon. But before sunrise, Princess Alice and her best friend, Jennifer Stansted, daughter of Earl Cedric, decided to leave Rawdon. They had given no prior warning, but simply left a note that they’d gone hunting. They would return “before the Finstertide feast.”
This final promise was barely kept. The girls returned to the Prince’s Palace late the night before Finstertide. Presley knew that Rohesia had been very disappointed in her daughter’s behavior, but he did not yet know how she was taking Alice’s return. He had simply received a note from Rohesia alerting him to Alice’s return, while drinking coffee and writing Grigory a letter. She hoped he was still willing to have his overdue conversation with Alice.
She is being fitted for her dress for the feast in her room. She ought to be available late morning or early afternoon. In fact, to ensure she cannot slip away once again, I would suggest calling on her late morning. Assuming you are still willing to do us this service.
Yours,
Rohesia
When he arrived at Alice’s room, he was admitted by the dressmaker’s assistant. The princess stood erect in front of a window overlooking the courtyard while the dressmaker knelt before her, adjusting the hem with pins. The gown was silver silk, a shade too light for the princess’s pale complexion, he thought. But she is taller than I recall, and the cut is flattering. She will look well.
“Your royal highness, it is a pleasure to see you,” he said. “I hope you do not mind the intrusion.”
“I rode ten hours yesterday. I mind being out of bed. But not a visit from you, Sir Presley.”
He bowed to her when she glanced at him over her shoulder. Then she turned back to the window with a great sigh.
“If it is not an imposition, I was hoping to speak with you, as soon as you might have time.”
She heaved an even more dramatic sigh. “I suppose you did come all the way from Presidium.” She looked down at the dressmaker. “How much longer do you think this will take?”
“This is the last pin, your royal highness,” she answered, sliding the final pin home in the hem.
“Give me a minute to get out of this, Sir Presley, and we can talk. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Much like Rohesia, Alice had been given a comfortable suite here in Rawdon. As he settled into an overstuffed armchair in front of the windows that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling, he wondered how Alice felt being back here. She had spent many years as a child prisoner in this palace. It had to bring back bad memories. Perhaps rather than being a “flighty, unreliable girl, no better than her sister, Elwyn,” as some busybodies had whispered these past few days, he wondered if she had needed to get away from bad memories.
She was soon back, wearing a dark green riding dress, much like those favored by Elwyn. The comparison was impossible not to make, but he reminded himself that Alice was not her sister, or her mother, for that matter, but her own young woman he needed to get to know before he could presume to offer her advice.
“I suppose you’re here to tell me to marry Earl William,” she said, without preamble, as she flopped onto a chair opposite his. “That is why my mother asked you to come, isn’t it?”
“It is a complicated time for your family, and your mother thought I might help with financial contracts and the like.”
“Like my marriage contract to William Trevelyan,” she said.
“That is certainly one possibility. But I wanted to talk to you before taking any other steps. Whatever else has been discussed or promised, it would be your marriage, and I’d like to get some idea of how you feel about it.”
“I take it you’ve seen Earl William while you’ve been here.”
He had. The Earl of Moltzig was a handsome, outgoing man in his early 30s. He possessed a clever sarcasm Presley appreciated, but he could also see how that might not endear him to Alice. Although he must know why Presley was in Rawdon, he had been polite enough to never hint at it, simply asking questions about fashion in the Empire, and if Presley ever heard from Elwyn, who the earl had known at Atherton.
“Yes. He seems pleasant and intelligent, your royal highness. Fit and not bad looking. Good at cards. But I’ve already found someone to spend the rest of my life with. What do you think of him?”
She twisted her hands in the pockets of her dress. “I suppose he is good looking and nice. And he would probably be a good husband. Oh, Sir Presley!” She turned away from him and took a deep breath before looking directly into his eyes. “I’ve always known that I might not get to choose my husband. I’m a princess, and princesses often don’t get to pick. But my mother got to pick my father. And Elwyn turned down more proposals than I can count before she got to run off and marry Paulinius. Why does everyone get to pick but me?”
It was a fair question, and certainly one he would be asking in her place. But the fact was, so much was riding on this decision for the kingdom and her family, that as unfair as it might be, this marriage was hugely important.
“You know I was there from the very beginning of your parents’ courtship. I was working toward getting them married before they even met each other. It... it took some time for true love to develop there. But they both cared so much about doing the right thing, and they were both such good people, they were bound to grow together.”
“I suppose so. But neither of them loved someone else. You do know he only agreed to Cousin Aldrick’s proposal because he thought he was going to marry Lilianne.”
“That is what I’ve heard.” He frowned, realizing how stupid so much of this situation was and that the stupidity had a name. “But if Aldrick will never agree to let his daughter marry Earl William, he will need another wife. Why not a kind, intelligent princess? I dare say, most men would find that an acceptable outcome.” He smiled now, but Alice’s face only fell.
“Paulinius didn’t settle for Elwyn. And my father didn’t settle for my mother. And I don’t think Grigory settled for you.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage. “Don’t I deserve to marry someone who loves me? Who isn’t going to spend his life wishing he had married someone else?”
“You deserve a great deal,” was all he could respond.
“Have you talked to Lilianne much while you’ve been here?”
He had not, in point of fact. With her mother dead, and her father not quite vulgar enough to ask his current mistress to act as hostess, the young lady was the official hostess at the palace. This meant he’d had several superficial conversations with her, but she had been too busy with her other guests and duties to devote much time to him. She struck him as poised and mature. As he looked at Alice now, slouched and still fidgeting in her pockets, he realized that Lilianne was much more the grown up woman than Alice, in spite of the fact that Alice was a year older.
“I’ve spoken to her a bit. She is a very gracious hostess.”
“You should talk to her. About Earl William. You might feel differently afterward. Do you think you could convince Cousin Aldrick to change his mind and let Lilianne and William marry?”
“I wouldn’t hope for that. The duke and I have never gotten along well. And we have known each other for a very long time.”
“Well, at least talk to Lilianne before you start doing anything else. Please? She really does love him.”
He had no doubt of Lady Lilianne’s feelings, but he feared that would only make it more difficult to negotiate Alice’s marriage to Earl William when the time came. Still, he could not ignore such a simple request. “Of course, I will.”
He left her, feeling rather disheartened with his mission, but determined to see it through. As he made his way down the long hallway, he thought of how he might best approach Lilianne. Likely, she would be extremely busy today, but that could not be helped. He was deep in thought when he reached the stairway just outside the throne room. Staring at the famous metal doors of the room were Vittoria and Sir Franklin. He hadn’t spoken to them for days, so he decided to join them for a moment.
“Hello,” he said. “Admiring the reliefs on the doors? I didn’t know you were an art lover, Vittoria.”
She gave him a sour look. “All Immani are art lovers. But that’s not what’s going on.” She opened her fist, which she had clutched against her chest. Inside, the gem dangling from her necklace glowed a magnificent emerald green, even though when he had last seen it, the gem had been as blue as a sapphire.
“Have you found something?” he whispered.
“Too many things and nothing,” Sir Franklin answered with a frown.
“I don’t follow.”
“This necklace detects magy, right?” Vittoria explained. “It never glows so green as when we’re up here, but obviously, Broderick, Jr. didn’t cleverly conceal the stolen treasure in Aldrick’s throne room. Then all over town, it just goes off, but next to random old taverns and smithies, all of which we’ve searched, even though there’s no way that’s where anything is hidden, either. This fucking thing doesn’t work.”
“At least not in any way that is helpful to us,” Sir Franklin added.
Presley nodded as though he understood, but of course, he knew nothing about magy. “Do you have any other ideas for how to find the treasure?”
“We’re working on it,” Vittoria growled.
With nothing else useful to add, and not keen to suffer Vittoria’s foul mood, Presley wished them well and continued on, looking for Lilianne.
He found her in the rotunda supervising preparations for the feast. He hated to interrupt, but he also knew Aldrick would be furious that he couldn’t announce the engagement that night. Presley would have to face Aldrick eventually, and it was best to be prepared with as much information as possible.
He walked across the rotunda and watched Lilianne direct a maid carrying a crate and then a footman with a cart of mums before turning to help two men on ladders hang bunting. She did all of this effortlessly, and it struck Presley that in many ways, she seemed more Rohesia’s daughter than Alice did.
She reminds me of Rohesia at the same age far more than Alice. At 17, Rohesia also had this same calm competence, whereas Alice still seems so young. Too young to marry. And yet, that is likely what will happen, because Aldrick strikes again.
“Lady Lilianne, the preparations look to be coming along quite well,” he said when he reached her side. When she turned her attention from the bunting, he bowed.
“Thank you, Sir Presley. I have heard that you are a man who can organize everything from a simple dinner to an invasion. So I’ll take that as a sincere compliment, not mere flattery.”
He smiled. “It’s kind of you to say. And since I know how much work goes into making a night like this run smoothly, I hate to bother you. But if I might have a few minutes of your time, I would appreciate it.”
“To be honest, I have been on my feet for several hours and would love an excuse to sit. And the seating cards still need sorted. Would you find it too rude if I did a little work while we spoke?”
He found her industry and dedication admirable, so he agreed. She led them to a small, round table in the middle of the room that was surrounded by about a dozen similar tables. The less important guests would be seated here instead of at the long table at the front with the Sigors, or the long table down the right side with distinguished visitors. They took seats in straight back chairs next to each other, and Lilianne began sorting cards of thick linen paper with names written in an expert hand.
“May I help in any way?” he offered.
“Oh goodness, no. Thank you, of course, for offering, but it is one of those tasks that would take longer to explain than to just do myself.”
He understood quite well, and so he took a deep breath before diving in to why he was there. “I hope you won’t find me terribly impertinent, but what I want to discuss is somewhat personal for you.”
Her eyes only flicked up for a moment before returning to the name cards. “Oh? I can’t imagine you being impertinent, Sir Presley.”
“You understand why I came to Rawdon, I presume. You are a very intelligent young woman.”
“And a friend of my cousin Alice.” She smiled weakly. “As soon as her mother told her you were coming, she told me it must be in order to get her married to Earl William.”
“I have long been an advisor to her majesty, and I will always do what I can to further the fortunes of the Sigor dynasty.”
“I see,” she answered, her voice tighter than it had been.
“Which includes doing what I can to make certain Princess Alice finds herself in a successful marriage.”
“I can’t imagine any marriage being more successful than one to Earl William.”
Her composure never faltered, which only made Presley’s heart break for her all the more. “Marriage to the best man might not prove successful if his heart is engaged elsewhere.”
Lilianne shook her head and dropped the cards she held. “Sir Presley, you will have to excuse me. It seems that I cannot manage this task and a conversation at the same time. And I really must finish this now. I will have to beg you to continue this discussion another time.”
“Of course, my lady.” He stood. “I apologize for distracting you on such a busy day. I will see you tonight at the feast.”
That poor woman is so in love and deserves so much better than what she’s getting. Only Aldrick would do that to his own child.
But then he remembered that Rohesia was going along with Aldrick’s plan, because Edwin needed Earl William as his brother-in-law. Otherwise, his choices for captain general were Aldrick and Lawrence again.
And Myrcia will never survive, either. Fucking hell.
***
PRESLEY GENERALLY ENJOYED parties, and there were many people at the Finstertide feast he had not seen in years. But whoever he spoke with—Countess Margaret Llamu, men he remembered from Atherton—he tried to keep an eye on Lilianne and Earl William. They drifted together several times, in spite of her hostessing duties. Every time they did, both would soften and smile, and the evidence of love was written so clearly on them that Presley could not fathom what in Earstien’s name Aldrick could be thinking to keep his daughter away from such an eligible man who clearly adored her so much.
Margaret introduced Presley to Sir Thomas Dunbar, Lord Mayor of Rawdon. A heavyset man with a thin black beard, he wore a silk doublet in Sigor blue and silver, in spite of the fact that he had long been a vocal supporter of the Gramirens.
“So pleased to have a chance to meet you at last,” said the mayor, rubbing his thick hands together. “I know you and her majesty have always been close, and I’ve heard so many good things about you over the years, Sir Presley.”
“How...flattering,” said Presley.
“Marvelous party, isn’t it?” Sir Thomas smiled and nodded around the room, setting his chins quivering. “It’s a time for second chances, yes? Yes.”
“I imagine so,” agreed Presley.
“Or third or fourth chances, for some of us,” said Margaret, eyeing Aldrick over the top of her wineglass.
“When you next speak with her majesty, Sir Presley,” the mayor went on, “I trust you will let her know how much everyone here in Rawdon has always admired her.”
“H’m, yes,” said Presley, repressing a desire to roll his eyes.
Even with the autumn chill in the air, they all went out onto the beach after the meal. The food had been good, if simple—beef and pork, but no venison or waterfowl. The dessert had been delicious almond cookies, but he knew in the past, a Finstertide feast hosted by a duke usually included an elaborate cake or individual tarts that would have taken days and days and required extra staff and fires to prepare. It all seemed smaller, and he did not think it was his higher expectations from living in the Empire.
Once outside, wine was poured, and everyone lined up to watch a magysk light and fireworks show put on by Lady Jorunn Unset. She had just arrived to prepare for a visit from Diernemynster by no one less than Freagast Harald. Presley assumed that like the lord mayor, she had also come to prove her contrition to the Sigors for having served the Gramirens for so many years. She began her show with a blast of Sigor blue light, followed by an illusion of giant swans on the lake.
The lord mayor’s red face turned pale, and he excused himself, saying, “I, er...think I might have eaten something that disagreed with me.” Then he hurried back inside.
The magysk scene started to slowly transition when someone stopped at Presley’s side. He looked to see who it was, and wished he hadn’t.
“You completely failed to conclude negotiations so I could announce Alice and William’s engagement tonight,” Aldrick said. “But never fear. I’ve come up with something you can do to make up for it. I’ll even support Faustinus’s bank if you do it. I mean, I hear the king is already talking to him about loans, although he’ll need my seal to make it all official.”
He was smirking, and Presley knew Aldrick could make it harder for Edwin to get the loans to rebuild the Forecaster fortifications. After a sip of wine (a mediocre vintage), Presley said, “Anything you could do to help ease the way for Faustinus would be greatly appreciated.”
“I know that. And I can even tell you how to show that appreciation. My daughter needs a husband. You’re going to find her one.”
A flash of light that looked like an eagle was quickly followed by a firework that exploded into a dozen smaller silver birds. Presley turned to Aldrick, who must be able to see his slightly incredulous expression. “Very well. How about William Trevelyan? I believe they would make each other very happy.”
And may Rohesia forgive me. I really do think the people of Myrcia will accept him as captain general if he’s married to Lilianne, and everyone can be happier this way.
“Oh, he’ll never do.”
“He is an earl. Well liked. Talented. Rich. Surely he’s acceptable for your daughter.”
“Nope. Not rich enough. Not even close to rich enough. I need money. A fucking lot of it. Broderick, may he rot in the Void, did everything he could to bankrupt me. I am Treasurer of Myrcia, but I have no fucking money.”
It all slotted into place. Between forcing Aldrick to take on the expense of Rohesia, Alice, and Helena for years, Broderick had also formally visited often, insisted Aldrick host a tournament, and took more in various taxes from Newshire than from more friendly dukedoms. He wanted to keep Aldrick too poor to support an army, and he had done an excellent job. Holding out for a rich husband for Lilianne was probably one of the few hopes the duke had for righting his finances and avoiding a large dowry.
“Where do I come in exactly?” Presley asked. “I’m not really a matchmaker.”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
“That wasn’t always the case,” Aldrick snapped, surely remembering his humiliation the night Rohesia was supposed to elope with him but remained behind to marry Edgar instead. A match Presley had done a great deal to promote, even if he had, briefly, been enticed to help with the elopement scheme.
“What I am saying is that I do not know young men in Myrcia. There must be someone more fit for this duty than me.”
“I don’t want a Myrcian husband for Lilianne. You’re going to find her a rich Immani husband, and I mean obscenely, disgustingly rich. Doesn’t old Stylianos have a grandson about Lilianne’s age? He would do.”
Presley had no idea how Aldrick knew about Elias Rufus Stylianos, son of Prasert, and therefore, the grandson of Presley’s old boss, Crispus. But he did know that the Stylianos family would never agree to such a wedding. Not that Presley would ever try to arrange it. Not that Aldrick needs to know that.
“Perhaps I could write some people of your interest. I know Faustinus will be happy to hear that you will help with the bank.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that. We’ll see.”