CHAPTER 25

Cracks

 

IRVANA RODE UP to the front door of the palace. Mikal was standing on the steps, hands on his hips, a frown on his face. “About time. We’ve been waiting for ages for the overlord of Koltarn to show her face.”

Irvana dismounted, excited. “I couldn’t help it. I met someone in the market, stopped to talk—”

Mikal ignored her. He grabbed the reins and led her horse away, his body stiff with anger.

Irvana stared after him. Why was he so mad with her? She knew he hadn’t liked being sent on with the servants, but he didn’t usually hold a grudge or take it so much to heart.

“Don’t mind him. Come and greet the staff,” Lenad said. “They’ve been waiting too.”

How could she not have noticed the double line of navy-clad servants standing either side of the door at the top of the steps? Irvana swallowed hard. What would they say when they recognised the girl who used to peel potatoes, the girl who had left them thinking she was a thief?

On shaking legs, she began to climb towards them. What would Merty say? Would she tell Irvana to stop pretending to be something she wasn’t and get back to work in the kitchens? 

No. Merty simply bobbed a curtsey as Irvana drew level. “My lady, welcome. It’s good to have you back with us.”

“Really? You knew it was me?” Irvana blinked at her. “Does that mean you know—”

Merty nodded. “The Prime Minister was good enough to send a letter, informing us of your arrival and explaining everything.” She leaned closer. “There will be no references to the time before, when, you know . . .”

Irvana breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“Shall we go in?” Lenad murmured. “Let these folk get on with their work.”

“Oh, yes.” Irvana nodded at the rest of the servants who bowed and curtsied as she passed. She was amused to see a flicker of unease on Alexia’s face and paused in front of her. “I look forward to trying your pastry, Alexia. It always looked as though it would be delicious.”

“Wha—! Oh, yes, veg gir—! My lady!” Alexia’s cheeks turned red.

Irvana smiled. Maybe this homecoming wouldn’t be as hard as she’d imagined.

She stepped through the main door and into the palace, her footsteps echoing on the white stone floor of the entrance hall. Thick columns, made of the same stone, held up a ceiling of coloured and frosted glass which patterned the white floor like a carpet. Between the columns were alcoves, each one home to a statue of sandy brown stone. She darted between the alcoves to take a closer look at the statues, and stopped in front of a carved lion.

If this was the entrance hall, how much grander were the other rooms? She’d only seen the kitchens and a couple of bedrooms when she was in her palace before.

Her palace.

Irvana couldn’t help grinning.

“There should be enough time to hang the portrait before dinner, but what do you say to Graym taking you to your rooms first?” Lenad said.

Irvana turned away from the lion. “Graym? Not Sofan?”

Graym stepped forward and bowed his head. “I’ve been promoted, Lady Irvana. Until you find someone you’d rather have as your man. You might want a lady . . . There hasn’t been a lady overlord for so long, no one’s sure what you’ll want.”

Irvana looked at Lenad. “I can choose?”

Lenad nodded and tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sure you’ll decide in time, but for now, Graym will do. I’ll see you in the gallery when you’ve done, but for now, I’ll leave you in Graym’s capable hands.”

Irvana could hardly contain herself. She wanted to run through the corridors, investigate all the rooms that were now hers. But there was no hurry; she had all the time in the world to explore her new home. Perhaps she could even stay here over the winter, make this her permanent residence.

“This way, my lady,” Graym said.

She followed Graym along unfamiliar corridors until they reached a place she knew. How many times had she walked along this corridor, carrying the tray for Aymee? Graym opened a door and ushered Irvana into a room.

“Oh no!” Panic closed her throat, she felt faint. “I can’t—not here!”

Graym frowned. “But this is the overlord’s apartment. It’s supposed to be yours.”

Irvana took a deep breath. The desk was still there, the very same desk that Terenz had sat behind when he ordered her to hang. It was empty now of his papers and ink, but full of bad memories. Through an open door she glimpsed the bed he must have slept in and her stomach turned. There was still too much of him here, in the heavy wood panelling, the dark drapes and curtains . . .

“I’m sorry.” She backed out of the room. “I can’t. Please, isn’t there somewhere else?”

Graym didn’t look happy, but he closed the door on the memory of Terenz. He studied Irvana for a moment and gave a quick nod. “This way, my lady.”

A little further down the corridor he showed her into another bedroom. “Will this do? Your grandmother, the Lady Beatrix, used this room while she lived.”

Irvana’s heart lifted. It was like walking into a room filled with sunshine. The wallpaper was covered in delicate yellow flowers, their blooms the same colour as the silk drapes and covers on the bed. The furniture was all made from a pale wood and a dark yellow rug covered the floor.

There was no trace of Terenz here.

“Graym, thank you. It’s lovely. Have my trunks sent here, please. And let Rosann know where I am.”

“Aye, my lady.” Graym bowed and walked out of the bedroom. The door shut behind him with a little click.

Irvana threw herself backwards onto the four poster bed, arms spread wide. She was here at last. She’d had the golden star and the authority for months, but it hadn’t felt real, until now . . .

“I’m the overlord of Koltarn,” she whispered, and started to giggle.

A knock on the door made her sit up.

Rosann peeped in. “Irvana? Are you ready? Lenad’s wondering where you are.”

 

LENAD AND MIKAL were waiting in the portrait gallery.

“If the wind changes direction, your face’ll stay like that,” Lenad snapped.

Mikal scowled even more.

“I don’t know what’s got into you, but you had better get rid of it. And soon. I’ll not have my page walking round with a face like thunder just because he didn’t get to go to the fair.”

“It’s not that.” Well, not entirely, Mikal’s conscience forced him to add silently.

“Then what is it?”

Mikal shrugged. How could he explain that he’d dreaded coming back here? That that’s why he’d been frowning at everyone and barely talking to them. Could they not see that for most of his life, Koltarn had been his summer home—his home? But Terenz’s death had removed that privilege. He was only here now because Lenad was—and for the moment, remained—his master. To see so much that was familiar and know that none of it was his to enjoy like he had in the past . . .

Granted, he’d been allowed to use his old bedroom because it was near to Lenad and Faye’s guest room, but the rest was off limits without permission. And the little worm of bitterness growing inside him could see only one person responsible for this—Irvana.

Lenad sighed. “Can you at least look happy when Irvana gets here and we unveil the portrait? I don’t want anything—anything,” his brows knitted together, “to spoil this moment for her. Understand?”

“Look happy? Why should I—?”

“I’m here!”

Mikal cut short his bitter reply and watched Irvana run towards them. He couldn’t bear to see the happiness shining on her face.

“Right.” Lenad rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get this done, and we can all have dinner.”

“It’s so exciting. Don’t you think so, Mikal?” Irvana’s eyes were twinkling and her face was flushed.

Mikal grunted and hung back, allowing her to walk ahead with Lenad. As he passed under Terenz’s portrait, he looked up, overcome with an urge to see his guardian’s face again. But a sheet of black gauze obscured the features of The Black Star, and would continue to do so until the first anniversary of the overlord’s death.

Lenad and Irvana stopped in front of a different frame—one covered with a white sheet.

“You are about to take your rightful place in the history of the StarMarks, Irvana,” Lenad said.

He didn’t want to see, but Mikal couldn’t look away as Irvana tugged a corner of the cover. It came away easily, revealing the portrait underneath.

In the painting, Irvana was seated at a dressing table, looking into a mirror. Her reflection was smiling slightly, as though laughing at some secret joke. And perhaps she was. Her dark hair hung over her shoulder, revealing the golden star at the nape of her neck. 

To Mikal, it felt like she was laughing directly at him. Bile rose up in his throat as the worm gnawed deeper into his gut. “Very nice,” he muttered. “Got to go, things to do.” He spun on his heel and walked away as fast as he could.

“Mikal? Mikal—wait!”

He heard Irvana’s rapid footfalls behind him and quickened his pace. Irvana caught up and stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. He gave her an impatient look.

What did she want now? Standing this close to her, he realised with a shock how much taller he’d grown. He was almost a man . . .

“Mikal, I wanted to tell you. Guess who I saw again in the market? Simean and Matild. They’re coming to visit, you’ll have to meet them—”

“Is that an order, my lady?” Mikal said.

“What?”

He ignored the hurt and confusion on her face. The worm had grown big and fat and was ready to bite back. “Is that an order? That I have to meet them?” Mikal fixed his gaze an inch above Irvana’s head.

“No! I thought you’d like . . . I wanted you to . . . Mikal, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Irvana crossed her arms. “Are you still mad at me, because I went to the fair on my own? We can go again, tomorrow if you—”

“It’s got nothing to do with the fair!” Mikal’s voice was sharper than he’d intended. He caught Lenad frowning at him. “I wish I’d stayed in Bernea.”

“Why? I thought you’d be glad to be back in Koltarn.”

“Glad?” He was almost shouting now. “When I’m back in a place I used to have the run of but I’m now nothing but a servant? And when you’ve made it perfectly clear who’s in charge here? I mean, you turned up late, kept everyone waiting for your grand entrance, and you never apologised.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“You’ve thrown your weight around and demanded a new room because the overlord’s apartments weren’t good enough for you—”

“No, that’s not what—” Irvana’s cheeks flushed red.

“—the poor little orphan girl, pretending to be an overlord. Look at you! All dressed up and putting on airs and graces, revelling in everyone’s admiration. And this!” He gestured at her portrait. “Getting us here to see your picture unveiled so we can tell you how good it looks and all the time, all the time, Terenz is hanging right beside it. Does it even matter to you that your uncle is dead? I suppose you’ll order his portrait removed because he didn’t have the all-important golden star like you and your father?”

“No! Mikal, stop!” Tears filled Irvana’s eyes.

He turned away so he didn’t have to see them. “I’ve not got to wait long before I’ll inherit what’s left of my father’s estate and be out of your life. I’d hate to put a dampener on all the good times I’ve no doubt you’re planning. It must be hell, having me under your nose all day, reminding you of Terenz.” He’d said too much, lost control. Suddenly ashamed of himself, he bowed quickly. “I have duties. Excuse me, my lady.”

He stepped past Irvana and walked away as fast as he could without breaking into an undignified run.

 

DINNER THAT EVENING was a quiet affair.

Merty had prepared a veritable banquet, but Irvana didn’t feel much like eating. She pushed the food around her plate, her appetite all but gone after the confrontation with Mikal. His words had hurt—did he really think she was abusing her position already? He was jealous, that’s all, she tried to tell herself. He hadn’t appeared for the meal—though whether that was his own choice or a punishment inflicted by Lenad, she didn’t know. And honestly, she didn’t care. He’d not minced his words in the portrait gallery, and she didn’t want another argument.

Perhaps she should have thought more about how he would feel, though, coming back to the palace.

Irvana had been devastated when she’d learnt of her uncle’s death, in spite of all that he’d done. She’d hoped that, given time, Terenz would grow to like—even love—her, help her with the enormous task she faced. But it was not to be. She was alone. No family. Just a few friends to advise her . . . and it looked like she’d just lost one of them.

After dinner, in the library, Irvana trailed her fingers along the shelves of books. “Do you think Eran will arrive soon?” she asked Lenad, who was sitting in an easy chair and looking through a pile of paperwork.

“I’m sure he will not be far behind us.”

Irvana leaned over the back of his chair. “What are you reading?”

“Maintenance reports for the palace,” Lenad said, turning a page. “There is much to be done. Several of the bedrooms need redecorating after the roof was damaged during last winter’s storms and began to leak. Repairs to the rotting pavilion on the cliff top have begun, and the stable renovations are close to completion. But there are many other minor things which need attention.”

Irvana felt a rush of gratitude and placed a kiss on the top of Lenad’s head. He looked up in surprise.

“Thank you,” she said. “For looking after me and the palace while I’m still learning.”

“It’s my pleasure, my duty.”

Irvana tried to stifle a huge yawn.

Lenad chuckled. “Looks like someone is ready for bed.”

“It must be all the travelling. I think I’ll get an early night.” Irvana yawned again. “Goodnight.”