Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (2 page)

“Producing an—” Disgusted, Darius spun on him, spluttering incoherent fragments of thought in an attempt to voice his objections. He settled on the only complete sentence he could manage. “Are you completely heartless?”

Ingram didn’t look up. “No, Your Highness, but I
am
practical. I made the best match I could within a very short window of time. Nothing I say will convince you she’s an ideal choice, so perhaps only Arden herself will sway your opinion. She arrives today whether you’re prepared or not. I’m quite certain
she
will be.”

The nausea in his gut swirled to new heights. He wished he hadn’t skipped breakfast that morning, as the thought of lunch made him even sicker. Tired of the pacing, he turned and marched towards the door of the duke’s office. “I’m going for a ride. I can’t sit here any longer.”

“Try to be back by one, Your Highness,” Ingram said. “You should be here when the lady arrives.”

Grunting without commitment, he saw himself out. Darius wound his way through the endless corridors of Castle Dulaine, long tired of their astounding wealth and pristine condition. Not a year ago, he spent his nights in drafty tents and the occasional dirty inn, working his way across the land, slaughtering monsters and evil men. His clothes were always stained with blood, his skin coated in dirt and sweat, and meals were simple affairs around the campfire.

He missed it.

He missed
her
.

“A fine morning to you, Highness,” Vennic said as Darius strode through the stable door. “What brings you out here today?”

He leaned up against the gate to watch the elven horsemaster groom a mare. “I’m in need of fresh air to clear my head. I thought perhaps a ride through the fields would do me some good.”

“So it’s the big day, is it?” Vennic chuckled and wiped at his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Trying to delay the inevitable?”

Darius frowned at him. “I’m doing no such thing. She won’t arrive for at least two hours yet.”

He turned and grinned, his expression more imp than elf with the glow of sunlight illuminating his golden hair. “But if you take the long way ‘round, you won’t return for at least three.”

Slumping back against the stall wall, he sighed. “Should I feel as though I’m marching towards the gallows? I know what my situation demands, but…”

Vennic unlatched the gate and joined him, guiding him by the shoulders towards the tack stand. “You gave up much for the sake of your people, Darius. I think you’re within your rights to feel the way you do. My people aren’t so concerned with the politics of marriage, but such things have been used in the past to strengthen ties between tribes.”

“And are those forced to such things ever happy with their lot?”

He shrugged. “It’s different for elves. We strive for balance in all aspects of life. If they lack for love in their pairings, they make up for it in love for their children and many, many friends. And there are ways to be happy in such situations, if you’re open to other… arrangements.”

Darius sighed. “I know of what you speak, but I’ve said my piece on that already, and Naya agreed with me. All or nothing. I haven’t yet met the Lady Arden, but I wouldn’t subject someone so young to such heartache. There’s been enough of that gone around. I won’t make others miserable to spare myself.”

“Spoken as a true leader,” Vennic said with a hard slap to his back. “Then I would give you this advice: try to see the positive in what’s presented to you. Perfection is the enemy of good. I know what Naya was to you, and none can replace that, but perhaps there’s room for something else? Love takes many forms. Don’t deny one because another is lost to you.”

He took his bridle and blanket from the wall. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ve assumed the worst of this girl before I’ve even met her, but I can’t imagine someone born and raised as nobility could be compatible with me. What if I spend the next fifty years bored out of my mind whenever she’s around? I’ll go mad for certain.”

Vennic laughed and grabbed a saddle. “Ingram knows you at least as well as I, maybe better. You think he’d choose such a person for you?”

“Well, I did technically take his cousin’s head at Orinda Valley,” Darius said with a grimace.

“Given said cousin was an undead commanded by a necromancer, I doubt Ingram harbors any ill will against you for that.” Vennic turned, and Darius followed him back down the row of stalls. “Despite my differences with the old man, I do believe he has your best interest at heart. You entrusted him with your life on more than one occasion, and this is no different.”

He lapsed into silence, knowing Vennic was correct, but still unhappy with the situation.

“Are you worried you won’t find her beautiful?” Vennic asked while he placed the blanket across the back of the chestnut mare.

“I… what?” Darius said, a little taken aback by the question. “That’s hardly—”

“Or perhaps you’re worried you will.”

Darius cringed. The remark struck closer to the truth than he expected. Was that what he worried about?

Vennic let the query rest as he finished saddling the horse. When he was done, they led the mare outside, and Darius mounted up.

“Here’s my final thought on it, and then I’ll leave it with you,” Vennic said, handing him the reins. “Try to see her for who she is, rather than compare her to who she isn’t. If you can do that, this might not be as disastrous as you fear.”

With a nod and a wave, Darius set out on his ride, clearing his mind of everything but the wind in his hair and the movement of the animal beneath him. Two hours later, he arrived back at the stables with a decision. Vennic gave him a quizzical look, but said nothing as Darius handed off the reins and hurried back into the castle. If he was lucky, he could catch a first look at the Lady Arden before he had to speak with her.

Know thy enemy.

Although his betrothed was not his enemy, per se, the sentiment seemed apropos to the situation. He wanted some idea of what he was getting into before he dove straight in. At least in that much, years of fighting taught him well.

He managed to avoid Ingram’s search parties and positioned himself for reconnaissance in an upper room with windows overlooking the main entrance. He was ready when the carriage came into view, and kept to the side to avoid direct detection. He held his breath as the footman opened the door. The first to emerge was clearly not his intended, so he assumed it to be the Duchess Cora Tanarien, her mother. While the woman carried herself with the composure of a queen, she was far too old to bear children any longer.

His first glimpse of the Lady Arden began with the striking deep violet of her gloves, followed by the rest of her, covered in a cloak of a darker shade. He understood the need to guard against the elements, but it was disappointing not to see her face immediately. What sort of expression did she wear? Boredom? Anxiety? Was she impressed by the castle or completely unmoved? What sort of smile did she have, placating or genuine?

When her feet touched the ground, He finally got his first look. Her head slowly lifted until her delicate face tilted up, looking at the castle. Her expression was mostly neutral, if not a little wide-eyed, but otherwise fairly unreadable. She was, however, as lovely as he’d been assured, so there was that at least.

He continued to watch as Duke Ingram descended to meet them, as unflustered as ever. The greetings were as warm as noble greetings ever were, but Darius paused when the Lady Arden lifted a hand to her mouth to hide a giggle. That boded ill. He didn’t care much for a timid woman that wouldn’t openly laugh at jokes.

As the group started up the steps, he shifted his stance, trying to keep out of sight, but the movement caught the lady’s attention, and she paused. Much closer to her than he had been before, he finally saw the astonishing blue of her eyes. Even two floors up he could tell their color, and when he met her gaze, he saw a deep intelligence there that startled him. Whether or not she knew he was there he couldn’t say, but she moved on at a prompting from her mother, and he lost sight of the party.

Darius moved away from the windows and sat down for a moment, considering his next play. His brief glimpse provided him little but more questions.

“Who are you, Arden Tanarien?” he murmured to himself.

After a moment of consideration, he stood. He needed to know more.

Chapter 2

Arden

While she wasn’t exactly raised by paupers, the room she was given at Castle Dulaine was one of the grandest bedrooms she’d ever seen. Unlike the halls, her spaces were decorated in dark wood and cream-colored fabrics, offset with the tiniest hints of dusty pink. It wasn’t overly feminine, but suited Arden wonderfully. The suite had a lived-in warmth the rest of the castle lacked.

After laying her cloak and gloves on the four-poster bed, she took several minutes to explore her quarters, lingering longer at the bookshelves than anywhere else. Tomes of poetry, history, and nature studies lined an entire wall, and she knew they were from her father’s suggestions, rather than her mother’s. While she never discouraged her pursuit of education, she did try to steer Arden to the softer studies like herbalism, rather than the more dangerous experimentation of chemistry, as was her preference. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her in that case, so she kept her findings on the subject to herself and a few other people, her father amongst them.

She didn’t know how it was managed, but the staff had not only brought her belongings up, but put most of them away before she set foot in the room. Her dresses were hung in the wardrobe in the dressing room, her boots placed on the shelves below. Only one of her three trunks had not been unpacked, and for that she was grateful. The untouched case contained her most prized possessions: her journals, small, framed portraits of friends and family, the jewelry handed down by her grandmother, and other personal effects. The only thing she hadn’t been able to pack was her handmaiden, Paitra, but she’d be arriving with the rest of Arden’s belongings soon enough.

It was going to be a long few days without her, but at least she’d have much to say when she finally arrived. Unless he flat-out refused to see her for a week, Arden would have plenty to tell her friend about His Royal Highness Crown Prince Darius.

The moment she finished exploring the bedroom and accompanying dressing room and bath, there was a knock at the door, followed by a tiny, feminine voice.

“My Lady? Duke Ingram sent me up with afternoon tea. May I come in?”

“You may,” Arden said as she seated herself at the small table in front of a window.

She was slight even for an elf, with pointed ears jutting out from under waves of beautiful blonde hair. The apples of her cheeks were perfectly pink, though it was a natural flush rather than rouge, and her brown eyes sparkled when she smiled.

“Good day, my lady.” She dipped her knees in a curtsy, the silver tray she carried not wavering in the slightest. “My name is Elena. Duke Ingram has instructed me to see to anything you’ve a need for.”

Elena glided across the room and set the spread before her. The filigreed tray was filled with a teapot, two cups and saucers, milk, sugar, the most delicate cucumber sandwiches Arden had ever seen, and a dozen different sweet pastries. Stunned at the bounty, she stared up at the elf. “All of this is for me?”

“It’s our standard guest tray, my lady,” she said, smoothing her white apron. “Do you wish me to send it back?”

Arden bit her lip, thinking on it. She didn’t wish to stuff herself before dinner, but lunch had been less than satisfying, as it was eaten in a jostling carriage. Looking up at Elena again, Arden considered her. If she were to gain some standing in the household before the wedding, the elf might prove extremely useful, not to mention she sorely needed someone other than her mother and scheming nobles to talk to.

“You’re to provide me with anything I need?”

She nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

“Then I wonder if you wouldn’t mind sharing all of this with me. I’d like the company, and there’s more than enough here for us both.”

Her lips parted in mild surprise. “You wish… with me, my lady?”

A muffled shuffling came from somewhere behind them, and she paused, but ultimately dismissed it as servants passing through their unseen corridors, as they did at the Tanarien estate in Aerenhall. She expected Elena to hesitate, but she’d grown used to sharing meals with Paitra, so her surprise was a little off-putting.

“Of course. As my mother and Duke Ingram are the only ones I know here, and both are already wrapped up in their own doings, it would be nice to have someone else to talk to, since Paitra won’t be here until next week. That is, if you’d like to. I certainly won’t order you to it.”

Fidgeting with the lacy cuff of her dress, Arden waited for a response. Elena’s dark eyes darted between her and the door three times before she finally took a seat. Even then, she only perched on the edge of the chair and didn’t reach for anything on the tray. As it didn’t appear she’d be helping herself, Arden flipped both cups upright and reached for the sugar, adding three lumps to her own before pausing to look at her. “Do you take sugar?”

She swallowed. “Two, please, my lady.”

Though her nervous tone was frustrating, Arden was determined to set her at ease. As she prepared their drinks, she decided to begin the conversation. “Tell me, which tribe is your family from?”

“Ansere’th, my lady. In the far west.”

She smiled and handed her the cup and saucer. “I guessed as much. You’re very similar to Paitra’s brother-in-law, and he’s Ansere’th as well. She’s told me a bit about them, but elven genealogy is one of my interests, so I’ve studied the old families as extensively as I’ve been able without going there myself. Is the Ta’Mareth still Garethell, or has he passed the title on to Malora already?”

If her eyes widened any more, they would’ve fallen out of her head. “My lady knows the Ta’Mareth?”

She took a sip of tea, then shook her head. “I’ve not had the pleasure in person, no, but I try to keep track of the tribes in as much as I can. I’d very much like to see the land they’ve reclaimed from the Blighted Sands, though. I’ve heard such wonderful stories from Paitra I’d scarcely believe them if I didn’t know how skilled the elvish are with agriculture.”

Elena’s expression shifted from shock to be
aming pride. “The stories are true, my lady. My father works those lands himself. Now that the war’s ended, the
haegaroi
can be cleared out and they’ll make progress a thousand times faster.”

At her use of an unfamiliar word, Arden tilted her head to one side, curious. “Haegaroi? You’ll have to forgive me. My elvish is only a little better than average, and I’ve not heard that term before.”

“My lady speaks elvish as well?” Her jaw went slack.

Laughing, she set down her cup and picked up one of the tiny red fruit tarts. “
Masaral ath ananni, te qi’haren tho deya?
”

“Surprised isn’t the word I’d use, my lady,” she said with a giggle. “And no, most nobles don’t speak any elvish at all outside of common greetings or titles. How is it you do?”

She bit into the pastry, immediately closing her eyes with a soft groan. “You must try one of these, Elena. They’re positively blissful!”

More relaxed, Elena didn’t hesitate to try one for herself, and her reaction was much the same as Arden’s had been. She grinned to herself, confident she won her first ally at Castle Dulaine.

“Paitra, my handmaiden, is Moth’hari. She’s been with me since I was seven, and is my closest friend. She’s taught me much over the years. But, that word, haegaroi, what does it mean?”

“Haegaroi is what we call the demons that spring from the rift in the darkness, the
Danahoi
. They’ve finally begun to dwindle in numbers since the war ended.”

She nodded, storing the knowledge away for future reference, then shifted in her chair, leaning towards her. “Would you mind… May I ask you something?”

“Anything you like, my lady.”

Arden picked her cup up again, trying not to frown. “First, I’d rather not be addressed so formally if it’s only you and I. There’s no need for honorifics tacked on to everything. But, my question. Are you treated well here?”

Her teacup rattled against the saucer. “Treated well? I…”

“Honestly, please,” she said when Elena didn’t immediately answer. “If there’s unpleasantness here, I’d like to know about it now, so I can correct it once I’m in a position to do so. But also…”

“Yes?”

Taking a deep breath, she went all in on the truth. Elena’s eyes held the same trusting gaze she always saw in Paitra’s. “The measure of a man can only be judged by how he treats those of lesser standing. I’d like to know about the man I’m pledged to, as I can’t trust the endless praise the nobility heaps upon him. Will you tell me, then? Are you treated well here?”

“Better than most places,” she said, staring into her tea. “Some here still harbor prejudices, but I wouldn’t say that of Prince Darius. He’s very fair, and pays us the same wage as humans, so for that I’m very grateful.”

If she said it wasn’t a relief to hear as much, it would be a lie. Elena looked to be holding something back, however.

“I feel like you’ve more to say on the subject,” she said. “I’d not get you in trouble for taking me in confidence, if that’s what worries you.
Corith majan, corith daenaan
.”

“Trust given, trust returned,” Elena murmured. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve heard that said.”

“Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you honestly,” she said. “Paitra made me promise long ago that no matter where we ended up on life, we’d always do our best to make it better than it was before we got there. It’s funny, though, I never imagined it would be here. Some small estate in the country, perhaps married to an earl or duke, but this?” She sighed and pushed her tea to the side, popping a small, leaf-shaped shortbread into her mouth. “I’ve no idea where to begin making the entire kingdom a better place. It seemed prudent to begin with the staff and work up to the rest as I go.”

She stared a moment, then burst into giggles.

“What? I’m serious about that.”

“Oh, I know, my lady, I’m sorry, it’s just…” She giggled again. “You and His Highness will surely be the oddest pair the court has seen in a very long time.”

“And why is that?”

She grinned. “Well, for two people who are destined for crowns, I don’t think there’s ever been two less likely to get them.”

Arden frowned. “And why do you think so?”

“Well…” Elena sat back in her chair, considering her. “From what I hear, His Highness never wanted the throne, argued against it with the duke, even. I wasn’t there, though, just repeating rumors.”

“And me?”

She shrugged and sipped her tea again. “You seem too nice for it. Can I give you a little advice?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Be careful at court. If you don’t learn to hide your soft side, there are always people around who’d stick a knife in it.”

Picking up a biscuit covered in rich ganache, Arden weighed her words. “That’s good advice for sure, but I’m not without my own defenses. I’ve been around enough nobility to know better than to trust without question. I might not have gone seeking a crown, but I know how to take an advantage when presented with one. I’m not a warrior or a revolutionary, but I will fight for the things I believe in, and they won’t find me an easy target.”

Elena nibbled on a biscuit. “You know, I’ve never been sure about Duke Ingram, but I might be revising my opinion now.”

“Oh, to what?”

Staring up at the ceiling, she gave a slight shrug. “As I see it, any man that puts you and the prince together is either very stupid, or exceedingly brilliant.”

Taking up her tea again, Arden smiled into her cup. Perhaps she wouldn’t be completely terrible at politics after all.

Darius

The days he skulked about passages trying to avoid guards served him well. Utilizing those old skills, Darius successfully tracked and followed Duke Ingram and the Tanarien ladies all through the castle, listening in on their conversation. None of it was particularly interesting, however, and the one person he was curious to hear from spoke barely at all. That further soured his esteem of her. To be so timid when others spoke of events that clearly affected her, such as her own wedding, she was either incredibly docile or utterly unhappy with the whole thing. Admittedly, he’d been as reluctant to discuss wedding plans himself, though he knew for certain why he avoided it. But her, he didn’t know her reasoning. Ingram said she was as much a proper lady as anyone could hope to be, so it stood to reason her silence was a show of deference, rather than lack of enthusiasm.

When she entered her quarters, he immediately did a few quick calculations in his head. Her rooms were on the opposite side of the hallway he crept through, and he’d have to take a longer route if he wished to see how she behaved in private. How interesting could she possibly be in a room alone? Still, he might manage a better look at the whole of her without the cloak. Who knew what she was hiding beneath those waves of fabric? Decided, he continued on, skirting the outer edge of the rooms inside the walls.

“And here we are, Your Grace,” Duke Ingram said as Darius passed through the spaces for the Duchess Tanarien. “I hope you find these quarters suitable. We’ve only just finished renovating this wing, so if you find anything out of place, please let us know.”

“It’s very lovely, thank you, Ingram.”

“Is there anything else you’ve need of before I go?”

There was a pause, and Darius leaned in closer to hear. As long as he was there, he wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

“His Highness will be joining us for dinner, won’t he?”

Ingram cleared his throat. “Cora, I give you my word that he’ll be there. No matter what else comes up, I’ll see he’s there if I have to drag him away from the Emperor of Danumbar himself.”

Darius cringed. When Ingram said he’d drag him, he wasn’t joking. His ears still stung from the last time the duke boxed them for avoiding a meeting with a Fergian emissary. Darius was usually quick enough to dodge the worst of his physical corrections, but the ones that landed made up for the ones he missed.

In his preoccupation over how to avoid Ingram’s reach that night, his shoulder leaning against the wall slipped a little, the metal studs on his doublet scraping against the wood. He froze, wondering if anyone heard it.