Shadowborn (Light & Shadow, Book 1) (40 page)

I was reminded of the girl who had looked so
haunted as she stood in front of me, covered in bruises. I was
reminded of the girl in the cart, wrapped in furs and looking as if
she was waiting for something. Had she been waiting for this? I
shivered. I no longer knew which of us was the light, and which was
the shadow.

Miriel stood and smoothed her gown. “Thank
you for the tea,” she said courteously, and then she swept from the
room.

I ran after her, and at the door, I held up
the stoppered bottle of pain medicine Roine had wanted me to brew.
I did not want a lecture on my own duty. Roine hardly noticed me;
she was staring after Miriel, and she looked sadder than I had ever
seen her.

Chapter 33

As winter drew closer, the Duke arranged for
Miriel to meet the King. The kings of Heddred had always given
audience during the days, even the Conradines had done so when the
capital was at Delvard. Garad had never been able, however—as he
lay sick in his bed, business took place in the Council chamber in
his name, and his mother had been the one who listened to petitions
from landowners and religious houses. Now, well once more and keen
to prove to his people that the country was as secure as it had
ever been, Garad would begin granting audiences, starting with
formal presentations of each of his lords, and their families.

I was to accompany them, and so I was given
new clothes once more, so fine I could hardly believe they were
meant for me. I could have laughed to think that a year ago I was
wearing castoff, patched homespun. This fabric was as fine as
water, and the clothes were tailored exactly to my growing frame. I
would fade into the background, for sure, but I did not care. I
would look as if I belonged in Miriel’s train, even though she was
being fitted for a gown that was a triumph of sophistication. She
was to look chaste and queenly, the Duke had said, and he himself
had come to the fittings to speak with the seamstresses.

Miriel’s coloring was ill-suited to the
usual pale colors worn by the maids, the brilliant whites and
palest blues and pinks that they wore, fur-trimmed, for the winter.
Unlike Marie de la Marque, whose pale skin and golden hair were set
off perfectly by yellows and whites and pale blues, Miriel faded,
her rich dark hair out of place against the modest color palette.
Her skin might glow against a deep red, and her hair might lie
beautifully against cloth of gold, but those colors were immodest
for a young woman, and cloth of gold was for royalty. The Duke
would not be so overt.

In the end, they chose a gown of deep blue,
trimmed with silver and cream. The color was passably solemn, not
so inappropriate for a young woman.

“
Like a winter sky with
stars,” the seamstress said, and I saw the Duke’s grim
nod.

“
It must be perfect,” he
said, and the seamstress curtsied and set to work.

Miriel was to wear it modestly, with a
muslin shift underneath the beautiful square neckline. For her
ears, the Duke had given her beautiful earbobs set with pearls and
diamonds, simple enough but lovely against her hair.

On the day of the meeting, we were both
called to the Duke’s study for a lecture on etiquette. It was
strangely reminiscent of my first meeting with him, I thought, my
clothes new and finer than any I had worn before, and my hair
freshly-washed and braided back tightly from my face.

Now, however, I stood at Miriel’s shoulder.
I was no longer an unknown, an urchin with dirt under my nails and
no thought of the future, or the country. I was a girl who stood at
the right hand of the woman who might be Queen. I knew more of the
country and its squabbles than did many of the great lords. And the
stakes were higher: instead of a girl who might be banished back to
the kitchens, I was a girl who could be beaten or killed for
disappointing the Duke.

My heart was already pounding as we left the
room together, all of us walking silently together, Miriel and the
Duke, and behind them me, and Temar. I watched the proud set of
Miriel’s shoulders, and wondered what she was thinking. Was she
still afraid that the King would betray her secret to the Duke? I
thought that her fear of her uncle was the one emotion she still
felt these days; I doubted that she ever feared the Dowager Queen,
or the enmity of Guy de la Marque.

The King’s audience chamber was humming with
activity. Liveried servants offered refreshments to petitioners,
who looked awed to be holding such fine goblets. Nobles packed the
room, all dressed in their finest clothing, and the King and
Dowager Queen sat in state on their thrones; at his shoulder, Guy
de la Marque, and at hers, the High Priest, an ever-present show of
Godliness. I had found, from watching, that I feared him. I saw how
his eyes could pick out any face in the crowd, how he looked on
each of the courtiers with the self-satisfied disdain of the pious.
I wondered what he saw in us. I wondered what he advised the queen,
and what counsel he kept in his own heart.

Next to Miriel, I watched as each family
moved forward to be presented, showing off the elegance of their
houses. Minor nobles and members of the old houses alike had
adorned themselves with so many jewels that they could barely move
without clinking.

I saw the Duke’s sneer at this, and thought
it amusing. The old families held that displays of wealth were
Common, and the Duke, now holding one of the oldest titles,
disdained the behavior as a matter of course. He must, for he came
from a merchant family; when the other members of the council had
sneered at his wealth, he had been too unsure of his new status to
be as shrewd as he was now. He had not heard the note of jealousy
in their voices.

When the cry went up, “Voltur!” I felt my
heart twist. Miriel’s chin lifted slightly, and she placed her hand
lightly on her uncle’s arm as they processed up the length of the
room. Temar and I were forbidden to be at their sides; only nobles
would be presented, and to have bodyguards would be to doubt the
King’s peace. Indeed, all were forbidden from carrying weapons in
the King’s presence, and so the two of us had only the multitude of
weapons we could carry unseen. We moved along the side of the room
to stay close to our charges. Luckily, no one seemed to notice us.
Miriel was still a favorite for the King’s hand, and attention was
focused on her as she gave a beautiful curtsy. The King and his
mother inclined their heads, and I saw Isra watching Miriel with
narrowed eyes.

“
My Lord Duke.” The King’s
voice was light and warm. “Today, we give you thanks for your
service on our Council. Your advice guides us always.” The Duke
inclined his head, looking pleased.

“
Your Grace,” he said
smoothly. “If I may present my niece, the Lady Miriel
DeVere.”

“
I remember her well. You
are to be commended, Voltur. The Lady is both charming and
intelligent,” the King said, and I saw the Duke’s eyebrows raise in
surprise. “I had heard her name spoken as one of the most worthy of
the ladies, and when we were introduced at the Winter Festival, I
knew the words to be true. Indeed, in the past months, I have often
sought her advice.”

There was a moment of absolute silence, and
then the whispers began. Isra was leaning back, the High Priest
whispering in her ear, but her eyes were open wide, staring at
Miriel in amazement, and the Duke seemed to have frozen in place.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Temar turn to look at me,
accusingly; I kept my eyes, resolutely, ahead, and watched Miriel.
She had gone white as snow, but stood with her usual half-smile on
her lips.

The King beckoned the Duke closer, and he
went, looking bemused. I strained to hear; even the Queen was
leaning forward in her chair, the Head Priest inclining his head to
hear without looking as if he, too, was listening in. My ears were
sharp enough to pick out the flow of the words, at least.

“
My Lord, I pray you do not
take it amiss that I have sought out her advice,” the King said,
casting a smile at Miriel. I felt a flash of anger—he truly thought
that all would be well. He had no idea the danger he had put her
in. “It was I who asked her not to speak of it to others. I see
that she has kept my confidence, and I am glad of it.”

“
She is a good girl, Your
Grace.” The Duke’s grim voice was like ice. “She is loyal to the
crown, as are we all, I am sure.”

“
Of course.” The King
settled back in his chair and smiled over at his mother. This had
been a warning to her, I realized, to her and to de la Marque, who
had smiled confidently when Garad danced with Marie. He was warning
them that he would not be ordered to marriage, just as he would not
be ordered to war.

At that moment, I hated him; my fingers
clenched, and I only barely stopped myself from reaching for one of
my daggers. Garad was my King, and I would have struck him down if
I had dared. He had thought to give his advisors a warning, and he
had done so at a terrible cost to the woman he claimed to love. I
did not think he had spared a single thought to the enmity and
hatred that would follow her now. I did not think he had realized
that his mother, thwarted, would not direct her venom at him, but
at Miriel.

He could not, perhaps, have known what
vengeance the Duke would exact, but he might have taken a moment to
wonder why it was that Miriel pleaded with him so desperately not
to tell her uncle about their debates. He could not see, even now,
the undercurrent of tension that ran between Miriel and the Duke as
they walked backwards from the throne. I myself felt a hand close
like a vise around my arm.

“
The Duke’s study,” Temar
said softly, his mouth right by my ear. “
Now
.”

Miriel and I were nearly thrown into the
center of the room by the Duke’s guards, where we stood together in
shame, trying not to reach out to one another for support. I could
not bear to look at Miriel’s face; her hurt at the King’s betrayal
would be too heartbreaking to witness, and her fear too closely
echoed my own.

The Duke, cleverly, did not yell. He paced
up and down behind his desk and he let the silence grow and
stretch. He cast looks over to both of us that were filled with
loathing, with disgust. He gave us time to wonder what he was
thinking and what he would dare. He could not kill Miriel,
perhaps—I trembled at the thought that I was not even certain of
that—but I knew that he could kill me. Who would protest? Roine? I
was no one, I could disappear and no one would think to miss
me.

What would he do to teach Miriel a lesson?
If she would no longer heed him, the most he could do would be to
gain from her glory, take whatever scraps she and the King threw to
him. He would never accept that. They were the same in that way:
Miriel’s own furious pride might have come directly from him.

“
I told you when you first
arrived here that I would tolerate no rumors against your
chastity,” the Duke said at last. He swung around to face us. I saw
Miriel almost sigh with relief. The waiting was over. “I see now
that this was inadequate,” the Duke continued. “I see that your
mother failed to instill in you even the most basic sense of duty
and proper behavior, or of family loyalty.” Miriel’s jaw tightened
at the reference to her mother, but she said nothing.

“
Do you know what you are,
Miriel?” She shook her head. “You are nothing,” the Duke stated
coldly. “You are the daughter of a second son and a merchant girl.
Your mother made a fool of herself at this very court, did you
know? I thought perhaps that if I took you from her soon enough,
you would not learn her regrettable standard of behavior. I was
wrong again. You have no sense of loyalty, and you have no sense of
propriety.”

Abruptly, his hand slammed down on the desk,
and both of us jumped. “You are nothing!” he yelled again.
“Nothing!”

“
I have the ear of the
King!” Miriel yelled back. She had come, abruptly, to life. “Which
is what you wanted of me!” There was a moment of silence, while the
Duke walked around the table and took her by the chin. He jerked
her head up to stare her in the eyes.

“
You gained the ear of the
King with whore’s tricks,” he accused her, venomous.

“
She
didn’t
!” I cried out, before I could
stop myself.

It was as if the Duke saw me for the first
time. “What?”

“
I swear to you, they
talked, only. She told him that she could not meet him like that
because it would compromise them both, and he told her that he
wanted a friend, only that. He insisted, my Lord. And I swear to
you, nothing has happened beyond talk.”

The Duke released Miriel, and I heard her
give a long, shuddering breath in as he walked over to stand in
front of me. I stood up and looked him in the face, sure that I saw
my death writ there. He was going to kill me now, he was that
angry.

The blow, when it came, was almost as hard
as any I had received from Donnett, from Temar. My ears rang, my
vision clouded. I could taste blood in my mouth and there was a cut
from his signet ring on my cheek. I staggered, and just when I had
recovered myself came the second blow. This time, I fell, and the
next thing I felt was a kick to the gut. I cried out, I could not
help myself.

“
Do you see, Miriel?” the
Duke’s voice came from above me. “This is what happens to those who
betray me. How did you buy her loyalty? How did you trick her away
from her rightful lord? Answer me!”

“
I didn’t, I never asked it
of her,” Miriel whispered. “I told her not to come with me to meet
the King. I told her she should not know.” I could hear fear in her
voice. She did not know the right thing to say.