Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4) (17 page)

As a matter of fact, I had; as I left the hall, I gestured for Lord Hein to come speak with me, and told him to double the musicians’ fee, as they had had quite a trying time of it that evening. I explained as much to Lyarris, and she nodded in approval.

“Well, that is something, I suppose.”

It seemed she would not pursue the matter further, thank the gods. True, it had been something of a fiasco for Lord Hein and those poor musicians, but at least I had gotten my time alone with Ashara. A fair enough trade, I thought. I said, “Did you know that those two awkward girls are Ashara’s stepsisters?”

“Are they? Oh, dear. I can see why you’re so eager to steal her away as soon as possible.”

“That much is true. And the oddest thing happened — ” I had intended to tell Lyarris the story of how they somehow didn’t know it was their own stepsister in whom I had such a particular interest. Once again, though, the words seemed to lodge in my throat, and I coughed.

My sister frowned once again, although this time in concern. “Are you quite well, Torric?”

I swallowed some of my port to get rid of that odd dryness, then replied, “Yes, I am fine. Too much talking this evening, that is all.”

She did not appear entirely convinced, but she shrugged and seemed to let it go. “Well, you must be relieved that there is only one more event to get through.”

“More than I can say. Truly, I was beginning to think I would never see the end of it all.” It did boggle me somewhat to contemplate that, at this same time tomorrow night, I would have announced to everyone my intention to marry Ashara Millende.

“It has been rather a process, but it seems you are happy with your choice. More than happy, really. I am glad for you, Torric.” Lyarris came to me then and gave me a quick hug.

I was somewhat surprised, for as a rule we were not an openly demonstrative family. She must have seen something of my happiness in my face, realized that I was truly pleased with my choice and looking forward to making her my wife.

My arms tightened around my sister, and then I let her go. “I will admit that when I set forth on this venture, I was perhaps a little worried I might not find anyone who caught my fancy. But it seems those fears were for naught.”

“That is true. And while there will be many disappointed young women in Iselfex tomorrow night, I know of at least one who will be nearly as happy as you and Ashara.”

I sent her a pointed look, thinking of Sorthannic Sedassa, and she shook her head with a rueful smile.

“No, Torric, I am speaking of the Lady Gabrinne. She seemed to stick to Lord Senric’s side all night like a cocklebur, and if he does not ask for her by the end of the weekend, I am sure she will be asking the reason why.”

No doubt of that. The young lady’s determination was a little fearsome, but the Duke did not seem to mind overmuch. For myself, I preferred someone a little less forward. Such behavior might be charming in the young daughter of an earl…not nearly as much in an Empress, who must consider the implications of everything she said. Ashara seemed far more thoughtful, soft-spoken but sure of herself, a fortuitous combination. Yes, she would make a fine consort, in every manner possible.

“A fine example of deciding upon what one desires and then using every means possible to achieve it,” I agreed, and lifted my goblet of port, as if to make a toast. “May all the disappointed young ladies make equally fortuitous matches!”

“That is a worthy wish. I drink to that as well.” Lyarris finished the last of her fortified wine, then set down her goblet, even as she stifled a yawn. “It is very late. I should have been abed hours ago.”

“I am glad you stayed up to talk to me.”

She darted over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I could see you wished to talk. But tomorrow is going to be quite a long day, and I know I need my rest, even if you do not.”

“Sleep will be difficult, I think.”

Her dark eyes glinted. “No doubt you will be tossing and turning like a child dreaming of his Midwinter presents, but I beg of you, brother, do at least try. You don’t want to frighten off your intended bride with a pale face and black shadows under your eyes, do you?”

“I most decidedly do not. The port will help, I think.”

“Then goodnight, Torric. After tomorrow night, everything will be very different.”

She sent me a brilliant smile and then went out, her lady’s maid, who had probably been drooping and yawning outside the door the entire time, following dutifully after her. I saw a brief shadow as one of my guards leaned over to shut the door behind them, and I was alone.

Not for much longer, however. I had meant what I said when I told Ashara that ours would be a speedy engagement. Damn Lord Hein’s preparations and Keldryn’s hand-wringing and my mother’s complaints that no proper imperial wedding could be planned in less than three months. I cared for none of that. All I wanted was Ashara. I would take her in her chemise if I had to.

Yes, my sister was right. After tomorrow, the whole world would be different.

A
shara

A
lthough leaving
Torric in such a manner wrenched my heart, in a way it was good that I came home so much earlier than my stepsisters. Once again I had little opportunity to speak with my aunt, for the early hour meant that Janks was not yet abed, and so we had to settle for a few whispers setting the time for our meeting the following night before she departed and I scurried into the kitchen. But at least coming home at that hour meant I should get a fair amount of sleep…as long as my stepmother didn’t have me up before the sun preparing Jenaris and Shelynne for the ball.

After I had said goodnight to Claris and laid myself down, glad that it was Mari’s job to undo the sisters’ gowns and hair and glad as well that Janks had already laid the fires, I found it more difficult to sleep than I had thought. Every time I closed my eyes I fancied I could feel Torric’s mouth against mine, his arms around me, taste the wine on his lips and smell the woodsy scent that came from his hair. The more I told myself not to dwell on such things, that I needed my rest to prepare for tomorrow, the more it seemed I recalled every detail of that kiss, of our conversation, every plane and angle of his wonderful face.

Oh, yes, I was wildly in love…and in want, if the responses of my body were any indication.
You will be with him soon enough
, I told myself firmly.
Now, let yourself sleep, or you will regret this obsession tomorrow when you must face him with puffy, red eyes from lack of rest.

This advice seemed eminently sound, and finally I drifted into slumber, secure in the knowledge that the Emperor of Sirlende loved me, and that this would be the last time I would ever have to sleep on this wretched pallet.

“
A
shara
, did I not tell you that the curling rods must be placed in the fire immediately?”

I already knew that nothing I did or said would please my stepmother, so I merely replied, “You did, ma’am, but then you sent me downstairs to see if that was where Shelynne had dropped her comb — ”

“Don’t be stupid, girl. You could have set the rods in the fire before you went downstairs to look for the comb. Now you’ve wasted a good quarter-hour!”

How I managed to not roll my eyes, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps because I was so close now — only a few more hours of this, and then the stepsisters would be gone, and I would allow my aunt to cast her spell one last time. Then I would ride off to the palace, and I would be done with all of my stepmother’s insults and cajoling. Torric had made it clear that he intended me to stay there once the engagement was announced, and of course I had no argument with that plan.

Since any sort of reply would only earn me a further rebuke, I merely gave a brief, apologetic curtsey and laid the comb on the dresser. At least I had found it. The gods only knew what kind of reprimand I would have gotten if I had “wasted” all that time and still not found the missing hair ornament.

After that I went immediately to the hearth and laid the long rods in the fire. It was Mari’s task to wind the girls’ long hair around each iron cylinder to achieve the beautiful hanging curls fashion dictated, so at least I would not be burdened with that tedious chore.

However, that did not mean I didn’t have a long list of duties to attend to, starting with making sure their slippers were properly polished, and all their gowns and underthings and purses and fans laid out, all separated correctly so there would be no mix-ups. And although I knew my aunt had to have something truly splendid planned for me, I did not see how it could rival the lovely and costly gowns my stepmother had ordered — cut velvet in a deep wine shade embroidered with gold and pearls for Jenaris, and figured silk in an exquisite dark turquoise edged with silver and crystals for Shelynne.

I knew I dared not touch the trim, or run a hand over the fine fabric in admiration. To do so would only bring down the wrath of my stepmother, who no doubt would accuse me of soiling those beautiful gowns. No, I could only lay them out while wearing the white kid gloves she had instructed me to put on before beginning the task, and set the thin silk chemises and stockings next to them, being careful not to snag the fine material.

While I was doing this, both Mari and my stepmother were brushing the girls’ hair as they stood in front of the fire in their dressing gowns. Each lock had to be perfectly dry, or it risked getting scorched by the curling rods. When at last my stepmother was satisfied, Mari began curling Jenaris’ hair first.

Not that Shelynne was given a chance to rest, however. While her sister was being attended to, she was surveyed carefully by her mother, then given a careful coating of cosmetics — reddish stain on her lips and cheeks, a smudge of charcoal along her upper lids, and a dusting of pale, pearlescent powder over everything. From a corner I watched this entire procedure in some fascination, looking on as my half-pretty stepsister was transformed into quite a bewitching creature. Yes, I had heard that the ladies in the court resorted to such subterfuges, but this was the first time I had ever seen these same devices used on an ordinary person, as the procedure was far more intricate than the simple brush of a bit of stain on one’s lips.

“Stop gaping, Ashara!” my stepmother snapped. “Surely you can think of something more useful to do than stand there and stare at us like a fish on a line. Go downstairs and fetch more firewood, for we must keep the fire hot until we are done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said promptly, and hurried down the stairs. Normally this would have been Janks’s job, but of course he was forbidden the girls’ chamber while they were dressed only in their robes.

“Gods, what a hullabaloo,” Claris declared as I entered the kitchen. “They can’t be off soon enough, as far as I’m concerned. I wanted to bake a new batch of bread today, but no, herself wouldn’t have it. Said she didn’t want me using up the firewood.”

“That’s what she went me for,” I explained.

“She’ll set the chimney on fire if she’s not careful,” the cook said darkly. “All to fancy up those two, who haven’t a chance in the world of catching His Majesty’s eye.”

I gave a noncommittal shrug, as I knew she was right but didn’t dare admit such a thing out loud. “I’d best get the wood and go back upstairs, for she’s sure to let me know if I’ve taken too long.”

“That’s no more than the truth.” A sigh, and she went back to swirling the broth she was making.

At least I did not have to go outside to fetch the firewood, as Janks had brought in a substantial load earlier that day. I bent and gathered as much into my arms as I could, being careful not to give myself a splinter in the process, then dashed back upstairs. Mari was still winding Jenaris’ long hair around the rods, but she appeared to be almost done. Good thing, too, as Shelynne appeared to be fairly dancing with impatience as she waited her turn.

“Go on, put some more on the fire,” my stepmother instructed me with narrowed eyes. “You’ve practically let it go out.”

As the fire appeared to be more or less dancing away happily, I knew this was simply more hyperbole on her part. However, long years of these sorts of reprimands had taught me that the best thing to do was give an apologetic nod and then attend to the matter at hand forthwith.

Let her upbraid you as much as she wishes
, I told myself.
Indeed, consider it a gift to her, since after tonight she will no longer have the opportunity to do so.

This pleasant thought brought a small smile to my lips — one that my stepmother noted at once.

“What are you grinning at, you foolish girl?” she demanded. “I see nothing funny in the situation!”

“Oh, no, ma’am, it isn’t that,” I said quickly. “I suppose I was just smiling because of how lovely the gowns are and how pretty Jenaris and Shelynne look.”

This lie seemed to mollify her, and she let out a “humph” before crossing around to Jenaris’ other side to see how her hair was progressing. “I swear, Mari, you are slower than the Silth in Janver,” she snapped, and the maid started a bit and then bit her lip as she unwound the curl she had been working on from the rod.

If it had been anyone else, I might have felt a bit sorry for her, but I had been on the receiving end of far too many of Mari’s slights and petty cruelties to summon up much sympathy. As it was, I retreated once more to my corner, standing ready in case I should be called upon for any further trivialities.

For the nonce it seemed my stepmother had forgotten me, for she watched as Mari finished off Jenaris’ hair, inspected it closely, and at last gave a grudging nod. “It will do. Come, Shelynne, it is your turn. I suppose I should be grateful your hair isn’t quite as thick as your sister’s.”

At this remark Shelynne stuck out a mutinous lower lip, but she appeared to realize that arguing the point would get her nowhere. Still pouting, she settled herself on the stool beside the fire while Mari set to.

It was Jenaris’ turn to receive a careful application of cosmetics, only in her case they did not create nearly as much of a metamorphosis as they had with her sister. No, I reflected, she still looked something like a pig, with her upturned nose and round chin, only a pig with lip color and darkened eyelids.

That thought made me visualize an actual pig wearing lip stain, and I had to stifle a giggle. No, it would never do to appear too high-spirited, or my stepmother was sure to guess that something was going on.

But she appeared to be preoccupied, finishing off the final touches on Jenaris' plump cheeks before she called me over to help with her eldest daughter’s ensemble. First the silk stockings and their silk garters, and then the gossamer-fine chemise, and finally the glory of the gown itself, with all those tiny seed pearls glowing from the heavy gold trim that wove its away around the neckline and embellished the separate sleeves, which tied on to the main gown with lengths of golden ribbon.

Once she was arrayed in her finery, Jenaris appeared as resplendent as she ever would. The gown was very fine, as was the tiny cap of embroidered gold brocade that topped her dark curls.

Yes, she looks lovely…until you gaze at her face
, I thought with some spite, and then was ashamed. Truly, it was not Jenaris’ fault that she was not as handsome as her mother or her sister. Then again, she made no attempt to ensure that her character was attractive, even if her face was not, so certainly some blame for that must rest on her shoulders.

By then Mari had finished with Shelynne’s hair, and the dressing process began all over again with her. She truly did look lovely when we were all done, so much so that I actually clapped my hands together and exclaimed, “Oh, Shelynne, you look so beautiful!”

She beamed at that, even as her sister scowled, for of course I had offered no such compliment to her. “Am I? Truly?”

“Yes, you’ll do very well,” her mother cut in. “I think His Majesty will truly notice you this evening.”

“Oh, he spoke with me last night, and Jenaris, too, but gave no indication of being in love.” A shrug, the silver trim of her gown glinting in the candlelight. “But that is all right, for I am beginning to think that Lady Gabrinne had the better plan by seeking out a nobleman for herself instead of trying to catch His Majesty’s eye. If I truly look as pretty as you say, then perhaps I should try to catch the notice of an earl’s son, or a widowed baron, rather than chasing after the Emperor.”

“Fine,” scoffed Jenaris. “I think it an excellent plan, for that will make one fewer in contention for the throne.”

“Do not talk such nonsense, Shelynne,” her mother said. “In one thing Ashara is right — you are looking very beautiful this evening, and it would be foolish to waste that on some piddling nobleman rather than the Emperor himself. I’ll hear no more of it.”

Upon hearing this, Shelynne subsided; she knew as well as any of us the folly of defying her mother. Instead, she let out a little sigh, and began to gather up her fan and her bag. Jenaris did the same, and I hurried to slip her cloak onto her shoulders, taking care that I did not disarrange her careful curls in the process. A moment later I did the same for Shelynne, and then it was time for them to descend the stairs to the carriage that waited for them outside.

I hoped then that my stepmother would dismiss me, for I knew time was wasting, and I had my own preparations to make. But after a few final admonitions to her daughters to smile their brightest and save all their wittiest banter for the Emperor, she turned to me, gave me a look of some suspicion, and said, “Ashara, go to Claris and have her fix me a light supper, for all this tumult has me quite famished.”

My heart sank at those words, even as I wondered precisely what that slanting glance of hers had meant. Oh, I was eager to be away, but I thought I had done very well in pretending I had nothing to look forward to, that this evening was no different for me than any other. I also knew she would expect me to wait until the meal was prepared and then bring it up to her in her chambers, and I most certainly did not have time for that. The ball was set to start at eight in the evening, and if I were lucky I had barely a half hour for my aunt to transform my ragged clothing into an elegant gown and for me to get to the palace.

Protests would be useless, however, so I merely curtseyed and said, “Of course, ma’am. I’ll see to it directly.”

I went then to Claris and delivered my stepmother’s request. She nodded. “Well, I’ve got this nice broth already made up, although she’ll have to make do with yesterday’s bread. Be a love and get me those quince preserves from the pantry, will you?”

As I carried out this request, a sudden idea struck me. Just as I was handing over the jar of preserves to the cook, I grabbed at my stomach with my free hand and made what I hoped was a grimace of agony.

“What is it, Ashara?” she asked. “Are you quite well?”

“I — don’t — know,” I panted, putting on my best imitation of someone forcing their words out past a good deal of pain. “I have — the most grinding cramp — oh! I have to go!”