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She had seen the looks on the faces of the ladies-in-waiting, but the worst was when Edwin stopped by. “Is it true you’re marrying Broderick the younger?” he asked.
“It’s...a bit complicated,” said Elwyn. “I’m trying to do what’s best for our family.” She looked around—at the servants’ stairwell, at the door to the hall. Anyone could be listening.
“Lady Gwenevir says if you marry him, I won’t be king anymore.” Edwin’s face fell, and his shoulders slumped. “No one wants me to be king, I guess.”
“Lady Gwenevir can mind her own damned business,” said Elwyn. She crossed the room and embraced her somewhat reluctant little brother. Then she whispered in his ear, “If we learned anything at the Gemot, it’s that a lot of people do want you to be king. So buck up.”
Edwin smiled, but only for a few seconds. “Mother says you’ll be allowed to leave here now whenever you like.”
“Yes,” said Elwyn, cringing. She knew how it looked, and she hated it.
“I wish I could leave,” said Edwin. “Colonel Rath told me yesterday I might get to go with him to the Summer Palace. But now I guess I can’t.”
Elwyn didn’t trust herself to speak for a moment. The Summer Palace and its vast game park were lovely, but she couldn’t help but think of those dark woods and deep forest pools and lonely marshes where a boy might go and never come back.
“It’s safer for you here,” she finally said.
Her brother stepped away, scowling. “That’s what everyone says,” he grumbled. “Everyone says it’s safer here, and I’m tired of being safe.” With that, he stomped off to the nursery, leaving Elwyn feeling completely wretched.
The deal Colonel Rath had proposed to her the day before was frighteningly simple. She didn’t have to agree to the marriage. At least not yet. All she had to do was agree not to tell anyone that she hadn’t agreed. And in return, Edwin and Alice got to stay in the nursery at Wealdan Castle, bored and lonely and cooped up, but most importantly, safe. Elwyn didn’t see how she could have done anything but agree to Rath’s terms. But now people thought she had stabbed her family in the back, and she found it hard to bear.
Worse still was knowing that Rath could renegotiate the deal at any time and force her to publicly announce her engagement. For all intents and purposes, she was betrothed to Young Broderick, and now she had to figure out some way to stall or stop the wedding without getting her whole family thrown in the dungeon...or worse.
There was a knock at her door, and Lady Gwenevir Dryhten came in. “There’s a visitor for you, your highness.”
Oh, Earstien. Rath was probably back again, already. “Very well. Show him in. And bring some wine, please. Oh, and Gwenevir....”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Please stop scaring my brother.”
The girl blushed and curtsied, stammering out, “Yes, my lady. I’m very sorry.” Then she rushed out of the room to usher in the visitor. Who turned out to be the Immani woman, Liliana Serrana—the one who was that senator’s mistress.
Up until this point, Elwyn hadn’t formed a very high opinion of the beautiful Miss Serrana, but now, when she had been expecting Colonel Rath and threats of death, the Immani girl might as well have been her best friend in the world.
“Oh, it’s you!” she said happily. “Please, come in! Gwenevir, the wine please. And maybe some almond cakes, too.” Elwyn rushed over to her settee and pushed some crumpled blankets and spare pillows to the floor. “Here, have a seat, please, Miss Serrana. It’s so lovely to have a visitor.”
“Thank you, your royal highness.” The woman looked staggered by her warm reception, but quickly recovered her poise. “Please call me, ‘Lily,’ my lady. All my friends do.”
“Very well, ‘Lily.’ That’s very pretty. I like that riding dress.” It was made of blue wool and fitted close through the waist and bodice. But it had been tailored very cleverly so that it didn’t look as if it would make a girl feel strangled.
“Thank you, my lady. I could give your seamstress the pattern, if you’d like.”
By this point, Gwenevir had poured the wine and brought the cakes. Once she was gone, Lily’s smile faltered, and she said, “My lady, I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I think I gave you the impression that I was prying into your private life. For that, I apologize. I am a great admirer of your family.”
“Oh? That’s very kind. Thank you. I think I was a bit rude to you, and I’m sorry.” Now that Elwyn thought of it, Lily hadn’t said anything that a hundred other people weren’t saying. And she’d never been unpleasant about it, the way some of them had.
“Not at all, my lady. I...or I should say, we, want to do everything possible to help you.”
Elwyn searched the woman’s wide blue eyes for some hint of irony or malice. But she looked utterly sincere and completely open in a way no one at the castle ever looked. They held each other’s gaze for longer than was strictly polite, until Elwyn felt her face start to grow warm, and she had to look away.
“Now when you say ‘we’....”
Elwyn glanced around at the door to the hall and the one to the servants’ stairs. Then, picking up her wine, she led the way toward the big glass doors and the outside balcony. The day was gray and overcast, and a light rain had started to fall, smothering all sound with a long, low hiss. She shut the door—careful not to lock them out—and then looped her free arm through Lily’s, drawing her close like an old, dear friend.
“When you say ‘we,’” she continued, “do you mean you and Senator Pellus?”
“Yes, my lady. And others, too. I really don’t wish to pry if you don’t want me to, but may I ask about your betrothal?”
Elwyn looked back into the empty room through the glass. No one was there. “I didn’t have any choice,” she whispered. “I never wanted it, but now I have to pretend I agreed to it when I haven’t. That sounds stupid, but that’s what happened.”
“I see. And is there any way to get you out of it?”
“I don’t know.” Elwyn sighed, and her head, already leaning in, slumped onto Lily’s shoulder. She had to bite her lip suddenly to stop herself from crying. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure we can think of something,” said Lily. She rested her head against Elwyn’s, and one of her long brown curls brushed Elwyn’s cheek.
Elwyn barely knew this woman, and yet she couldn’t let her go. She felt like it had been months since she’d had contact with a friendly person outside her family. Maybe it had been years. She gripped Lily’s arm and squeezed it until she could feel the wool fabric of the sleeve stretching out of shape under her fingers.
The wind changed, and the rain picked up, now blowing straight onto the balcony from the east. Shocked and startled, the two women gasped, then stepped apart, laughing and wiping the spray out of their eyes.
“Oh, bugger,” said Elwyn. “I think we’d better go back inside.” In a more serious tone, she added, “Watch what you say in there. Rath has people spying on me.”
They went in, and at first Elwyn sat opposite Lily in one of the high-backed chairs, but that felt oddly formal and distant now. So she went and joined her on the settee, leaning together thanks to the old, worn stuffing of the cushions, knees slightly touching. Elwyn was feeling a bit lightheaded, and whenever she caught Lily’s eyes, her face grew warmer.
“Um, maybe some more wine,” suggested Lily. She was blushing, too.
“Oh, Earstien,” thought Elwyn. “I’ve gone and embarrassed her. I shouldn’t have broken down like that in front of someone I hardly know.” She sat up straighter, fixed her hair, poured the wine, and tried to think of something they could talk about now that didn’t have anything to do with Edwin or the engagement with Young Broderick.
Out of sheer desperation, she was about to bring up the weather, when there was a soft knock at the door from the servants’ stairway, a knock so soft that at first Elwyn thought she had imagined it. But then it came again, and she called out, “Who’s there?”
The door opened, and her cousin Sir Robert Tynsdale poked his head in. “My lady, are you...?” He spotted Lily and stopped. “My lady, may I speak to you alone? I’m very sorry to intrude.”
She didn’t want Lily to leave, but Elwyn could tell from the strain in his voice that this was urgent. And as he stepped into the room, she saw his clothes were damp and splattered with mud. This had to be some sort of emergency.
Lily, presumably sensing the same thing, rose and curtsied to both of them. “I was just on my way out. May I call again, your royal highness?”
“Oh, yes. Please do,” said Elwyn. She watched Lily leave, and then went over to Sir Robert. “What’s going on?” she hissed. “Something awful has happened, hasn’t it?”
He looked at her gravely, but shook his head. “No, my lady. Something wonderful, I trust.” Then he pulled out a small, sealed letter and placed it in her hand.
On tearing it open, Elwyn found it was from Rohesia’s brother, the Earl of Hyrne.
Your royal highness,
I hope this finds you well. I am writing to you, and not to my sister, because I hear you are not being watched as closely as she is. Some people say you have betrayed her, but I cannot believe that. I have faith that you remain true to your family.
“It’s good to know one person does,” muttered Elwyn, though she immediately added, “And I suppose there’s Lily, too.” That made her smile, and she read on.
Do not lose heart. Be ready, because an army of brave and loyal Myrcians is, at this very moment, on the march to liberate Formacaster and deliver you from captivity. The bastard Broderick Gramiren has shown his true colors at last: foul and black like the eagle on his shield. He means to rule, but we will stop him. We will never accept him as king, just as I will never permit my niece, the daughter of a king, to be traded away to a bastard’s son.
Elwyn was quite moved. The earl wasn’t really her uncle, except through Rohesia’s marriage to her father. But it was a rousing sentiment, all the same.
Take the news to your mother, if you can. Tell her to be ready. We are coming soon.
Your servant,
Lawrence Swithin, Earl of Hyrne
Elwyn read through it a second time, trying to memorize every glorious word, then told Tynsdale to let the earl know they would all be ready. She burned the letter in her parlor fireplace, and then shook Sir Robert’s hand before he left.
“Next time I see you,” he said, “this will all be over.”
“Oh, Earstien, I hope so,” she said.
He slipped away again, out through the hidden door and down the servants’ stairs. Then Elwyn took a deep breath, composed herself, and went down the hall to see her stepmother.