The Carnelian Legacy (25 page)

“Some of them have only a few.” Marisa commented.

“Yes,” Darian said, “each sword represents one ruler or a generation of one particular dynasty. Some lasted longer than others.”

“And the row of swords along the bottom?”

“Those are the rulers whose dynasty didn’t last beyond themselves. They had no children, or their heirs all died.”

“So it’s considered a shame to be on the bottom?”

“Yes,” Darian said. “The sovereigns represented by the swords in the single row are not looked upon with the same favor as those placed in a circle.”

“Oh,” she said. “Which one is the Fiore circle?”

“That one, over there on the left.”

“You mean the one with the red coat-of-arms?”

“No, the one just above it. The blue one.” He pointed.

Marisa counted them. “There are only five swords.”

“That’s how many Fiores have ruled in our dynasty so far.”

She quickly did the math. “But from what you’ve told me, there should only be four up there, right?”

Darian and Adalina exchanged glances. “That is correct. One of them does not belong.” He stared up at the circles of swords and Marisa silently wondered if Darian’s sword would ever be up on the wall too. She knew it would depend on how things ended with Savino.

The dinner was served and the subject seemed to have been dropped. There was no mention of Darian’s failed mission and most of the dinner conversation consisted of small talk. Marisa wondered if Darian’s mother and sister even knew about the outcome of the trip. Maybe he’d told them the whole story, and they were just being friendly because Marisa might someday be Savino’s wife.

Helena and Adalina filled Darian in with all the latest gossip since he’d left Crocetta. Marisa didn’t care that she didn’t know who they were talking about—she was just enjoying being around other women again.

After dinner, the four of them retreated into the library for drinks and a game of cards. The cards were octagonal shaped with four different numbers on every other side. Marisa couldn’t follow the rules on how to play, so Helena and Adalina played while Darian sat with Marisa.

When Marisa saw his sister and mother stealing glances at her, she wondered if they thought he might be forming an inappropriate attachment with Marisa. She wished she could set their minds at ease. If they didn’t know already, they’d be hearing soon about his engagement to Lady Matilda.

Darian poured a glass of red wine for Marisa and suggested they enjoy their drinks outside. He unlocked a set of French doors and the two of them stepped outside into the crisp night air.

Marisa already had felt completely out of place in the palace, but it was only getting worse. She had to remain emotionally detached from them until the opportune moment arrived for her to make her escape. Maybe the others already knew about Darian’s engagement and they saw her as some kind of threat. Perhaps they resented Marisa for even being there. If they did, at least they were doing a marvelous job of keeping it concealed.

“You are unusually quiet this evening, Marisa,” Darian said.

She shrugged. “There’s been an awful lot to absorb over the past few days. I think I may be suffering from sensory overload. It’s not every day that I meet royalty, you know.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry if this seems overwhelming to you. I easily forget that I’ve grown up in the palace all my life but you have not.”

Yeah, go ahead and keep the gulf between us right out there in front as a constant reminder.
“You seem pretty chipper tonight,” she said. “Have you heard some bit of good news since you’ve been back?”

“Chipper? What does this mean?”

“It means happy, in a good mood.”

He smiled. “Ah, no, it’s nothing like that. I suppose that I’m just happy when I’m at home surrounded by the people that I love.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I really miss my family. I wish they could be here to see all this,” she said, pointing to the walls. “Uncle Al would just die if he saw this castle. He’s always been crazy about knights, castles, and damsels in distress. Not that you would have any idea of what I’m talking about...” she trailed off.

“Uncle Al?” Darian said, puzzled. “What an unusual name. Is it short for something?”

“Yeah—well, actually, his name is Alistair, but he’s always been Uncle Al to us. My father’s name was Alan. Did I tell you that they were twins?”

“Yes, I believe you did,” he said, sipping his wine. “Do they have any other siblings?”

“Nope, our family is pretty small. I never even knew my grandparents. They died long before we were even born. I do have relatives from our clan back in Scotland that I’ve never met, though.”

“Did your father or uncle ever return to this Scotland since they moved to America?”

“No. But my uncle has promised to take us back someday. I’ve heard it’s absolutely beautiful.”

Darian gazed into the dark courtyard below. “How do you like your room? Did you know my sister’s room is next to yours?”

“Yeah, I like it, it’s comfortable. And Adalina seems like a sweet girl. You’re lucky. I always wanted a sister.”

She gazed up into the mountains and tried to think of something else to say. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to be with him and she couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else when he was around.

“What you are thinking about?” he asked.

“I, uh—I was thinking about Savino,” she said finally.

As the smile disappeared from Darian’s face, she immediately regretted her words. She hadn’t even thought about Savino much lately and she wondered what had compelled her to suddenly blurt out his name.

“Is it safe to assume then that you wish to accept his offer?” he asked in a flat voice.

Marisa tried to think up a noncommittal response, but her mind kept coming up blank. She knew her silence would only confirm Darian’s suspicions.

Silence.

“I see—”

As he gulped down the last bit of his wine, his face transformed into the cold, stony Darian she’d met on the way to Abbadon. She could feel a palpable tension but decided she shouldn’t fight it as long as it helped keep the distance between them. If he wasn’t going to be honest with her about Matilda, then she wasn’t about to discuss Savino with him.

He leaned back against the stone wall and stared out into the darkness. When he turned to her a moment later, his face had suddenly softened.

“Marisa, would you please allow me to take you to a quite remarkable place tomorrow morning?”

She sighed. “I guess. What time do you wanna leave?”

He brightened. “Please be ready to go after breakfast. We’ll meet in the library at eleven.”

“Eleven it is.”

“Cheer up, you might even enjoy it,” Darian added smugly. He led her back inside to his mother and sister, who were still playing cards. After kissing them both on the cheek, Darian offered Marisa an arm.

As they walked up the stairs and down the corridor leading to her room, neither said a word. Marisa felt guilty for brushing him off, but she knew it was the only way to keep from getting too close.

“I’ll see you in the morning, sire,” she said finally.

“Milady,” Darian answered with a nod. He walked down the corridor and disappeared into a side hallway.

As soon as Marisa was inside her chambers, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the bed.

She was dreading tomorrow.

CHAPTER 19

BEAURIÉL

MARISA
WAS
JOLTED
OUT
of her sleep. The room was pitch-black and she tried to remember where she was. Her heart was racing from her very real dream about Mark and her uncle. They had been out searching in the woods and calling her name. But every time she tried to answer them, she would open her mouth and no sound would come out.

She stumbled across the room, groping for the entrance to the water closet. Her hands found the sink and she pumped out a glass of fresh water. On the way back to bed, she noticed how brightly the moon shone through the windows and something caught her eye.

The display of her phone was lit, and Marisa saw that the date read September 27, 4:38 a.m. In just three days, it would be her birthday. No cake, no gifts, and no family.

She climbed back into bed and sighed. Her finger felt dry and itchy where she had been wearing her mother’s ring, so she slipped it off and carefully placed it on the nightstand. Distracted by the pulsating light on her phone, Marisa stuck in her ear buds and swept through her playlists. She listened to music for a few hours before finally drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, Marisa glanced at her phone and saw that it was already 10:38 a.m. She suddenly remembered that Darian was expecting her at eleven and quickly jumped out of bed.

He had asked Marisa to dress comfortably and warmly, so she chose a complete riding habit with a full skirt, blouse, boots, hat, and riding jacket. Although she knew spending more time alone with Darian would only complicate matters further, her interest had definitely been piqued by whatever it was he wanted to show her.

At exactly eleven o’clock, Marisa entered the library and found Darian already there waiting for her. Out of his usual armored suit, he was wearing a dark green tunic, beige pants, and brown riding boots.

Why did he have to be so handsome,
she thought.

“Ready to go?” He offered her an arm.

“Lead on, Your Highness.”

They started down the corridor, but Marisa stopped abruptly when they reached the main staircase. “Hold on a minute, something looks different here,” she said, glancing around.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know—it just looks different for some reason.”

“You sure notice details, don’t you?” Darian chuckled. “As a matter of fact, they took down a couple of the paintings here that are due for restoration.”

“Hmm, that must be it. I knew there was something different.”

Darian just smiled and shook his head as they reached the ground floor. He guided her through a large doorway that led to the main courtyard.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Patience, please, milady. You shall see.”

They went outside and Darian pointed across the central courtyard to another set of stone steps leading down. She glanced up and saw dark storm clouds covering the sky.

As they entered the lowest level of the citadel, Marisa recognized the pungent odor of wet straw and manure. When she saw Siena, she hurried over to her stall and stroked the animal’s chestnut-colored mane.

“Hey, Siena, do you want to go out for a ride, girl?”

“We’re not going on horseback, Marisa.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Well, why did you bring me down here, then?”

“A carriage awaits us, milady.” He extended his hand toward the other side of the stable where two horses, a large covered carriage, a driver and a footman all waited for them.

“Oh, wow,” she exclaimed.

The exterior of the carriage was black with gold trim and the door was embellished with the Fiore royal crest. The large spokes of the wheels were tipped with gold accents and two glass lanterns decorated each side.

“Today it’s quite cloudy, and I didn’t want to get soaked in the rain. I’d much rather be warm and dry, wouldn’t you?” Darian asked.

She nodded to him and skipped over as Darian chuckled. The footman helped her up into the carriage and she sat down on the seat that faced forward. Darian climbed in and took the seat opposite her that faced the rear.

The interior walls were upholstered in dark blue velvet. Marisa ran her hand across the softness of the seat and noticed it was covered with the same fabric but then in black. The footman closed the door with a solid thud, sealing them off in their own private world.

“There is a blanket under your seat in case you get cold,” Darian said. He lifted a small hatch underneath and showed her a storage compartment filled with blankets. Smiling mischievously at her, he pulled down a lever to ring a little bell, and soon they began to move forward.