Wingborn (20 page)

As he watched, Stirla insinuated himself
into the group by talking to Mhysra.

“Wily old fox,
”
Lyrai chuckled, seeing the smile of gratitude Lady
Milluqua sent his friend for paying attention to her sister. Stirla
was full of tricks and Lyrai didn
’
t doubt he would use them all before this night was
through. It was just curious that a wellborn lady appeared to be
his objective this time. Stirla rarely played his games where the
odds were so heavily stacked against him.

Still, what Stirla got up to was his own
business, so Lyrai approached his mother. He kept an eye out for
his father, but knew the old man preferred making late entrances.
Which should leave plenty of time for a dance.

“
Lyrai.”
His mother angled her cheek for a kiss. “How dashing you look.
There isn’
t a woman present who doesn
’
t long to stand up with you.
”

He smiled at her radiant appearance.
“
There is only one lady
I wish to dance with.
”

She arched an eyebrow and chuckled.
“
I
a
m long past the age for dancing,
dearest.
”

Looking at her golden dress, glittering with
diamonds in a style that wouldn
’
t look amiss on a newlywed wife, Lyrai shook his
head and tugged her to her feet.
“
Nonsense. You
’
re the prettiest girl here. No one would imagine
you to be the mother of five nearly grown children. Come, dance
with me, and we shall astonish the city with our
splendour.
”

“You ask so
sweetly, how could I possibly refuse?” Resting her hand on his arm,
she allowed him to sweep her onto the floor. As he swung her around
she laughed like a child and he smiled to see her so happy. It
reminded him of long ago days when she would visit the schoolroom
to dance with him, much to the dismay of her servants and his
tutors. In time his father had put a stop to it, but Lyrai still
treasured the memories.

“
I’
ve missed dancing with you, my Lyrai,
”
she murmured as they stepped
together, turned and joined hands with two other couples to make a
circle.

When they came together again, he saw tears
in her eyes and squeezed her hands.
“
I will always dance with you, mama.
”

She smiled but, when the dance was over,
asked to be taken back to her table, where she remained for the
rest of the evening, isolated in her golden splendour. She danced
with no one else and, after Lyrai
’
s father finally arrived, the gentlemen soon
stopped asking.

WINCING AFTER A
particularly clumsy romp with a young lord whose name
she
’
d already forgotten,
Mhysra limped back to her table. Her father was busy with an
acquaintance and her mother was similarly engaged across the room,
while Milluqua was dancing with Lieutenant Lyrai.

Dreaming of the moment when she could take
off her shoes, Mhysra watered down her wine and took a sip,
thinking she ought to eat something. She wasn
’
t hungry, but the night was barely half
done; getting drunk probably wasn
’
t a good idea. Except she would have to get up if
she wanted to visit the food table. Her feet throbbed. She
couldn
’
t bear to put
weight on them yet.

“Evening, my
lady. May I join you?”

She looked up and smiled at Stirla.
“
Please do, sir. My
sister won
’
t
mind.
”

“
She’s a
popular partner,” he said, sitting down. “I don’
t think
she
’
s sat out a single
set.
”

“She likes to
dance.”

He smiled at the understatement and poured a
glass of wine, eyes widening as he tasted it.
“
You have better stuff on this side of the
room.
”

Mhysra laughed, no longer feeling the need
to perform for the strangers looking down their noses at the gangly
country girl. Lieutenant Stirla knew her and she liked him.
“
I
’
d say you
’
re enjoying yourselves more.
”

They looked at the far tables where a
raucous toast was going on.
“
Savages.
”
He grinned.

She wished she could sit with them. There
was no pretence with the Riders. They
’
d been granted an evening off and were taking full
advantage of it. She wished she could do the same.

“I suppose
your sister will get married soon,” Stirla said, staring at
Milluqua as she skipped around Lieutenant Lyrai. They made a
striking couple; her darkness complimenting his light. “Probably to
some high lord or prince.”

“My parents
are very ambitious,” Mhysra agreed, wondering for the first time
how much say her sister would have over her own future.

Stirla
’
s smile was self-deprecating.
“
My parents are wool farmers.
”

She smiled back, feeling sorry for him.
“
You
’
ll make a fine captain, sir.
”

He nodded towards the floor.
“
I believe this is our
dance.
”
When she cast a
disgusted glance towards her slippers, he chuckled.
“
Or we could sit it out and have
something to eat instead.
”

“A damn fine
captain,” she said, and he rolled his eyes as he left to fetch food
for them both.

AS DANCES WENT
,
Lyrai mused while waltzing with Lady Mhysra, it wasn
’
t the worst he
’
d experienced. Some conversation might
have been nice, but it was difficult to talk to one
’
s partner when she was watching
her feet so intently. Not that he minded the quiet; he was fond of
this piece of music and the orchestra played it to perfection.

Despite her nerves, Lady Mhysra danced
surprisingly well. Considering her age and height, she was
graceful. Nothing like the beauty of movement that set her sister
apart from everyone else, but for a young lady not fully grown, she
did well. Years of flight gave her excellent balance and her
natural rhythm made her a good partner. He was almost enjoying
himself.

Until the music stopped, she stepped on his
foot and someone tapped a glass.

“Sorry,” she
whispered, as he helped her regain her balance.

Lyrai looked around the quiet room, saw his
father standing at the top table and froze.
“
It
’
s all right,
”
he said, wishing he was back at the Rider tables.
He felt exposed out here on the dance floor. Vulnerable.

“
What’
s happening?
”
Lady Milluqua appeared beside her sister, Stirla
at her shoulder.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Lyrai.
“
Do you know anything
about this?
”

Lyrai shook his head.
“
My father doesn
’
t confide in me.
”

“
Your
father?” Lady Mhysra looked up, eyes wide. “But that’
s the
Stratys.
”

“Yes.”

“
He’
s your
father
?
”
she squeaked.

He nodded, too worried and distracted to
explain now, and waited with the rest of the room for the man to
speak.

“
My
lords, ladies and distinguished guests,” Stratys Henryk III spoke
into the expectant hush. “I welcome you to the Feast of Our Father
of Glory, Divine Heirayk, God of the Sun. The Midsummer Ball goes
back far beyond our forefathers to the days before the clouds came
and our world was changed forever. A time of celebration, of
veneration, to honour and thank the greatest of gods. It is an
event where matches are made, promises given and futures entwined
forever. A night when fresh hope is born.”
He paused to
raise his glass, waiting for the silence to gain an impatient edge
as all wondered where his speech was going.

“Friends, I
ask you to join me in celebration. Tonight, my oldest son, your
beloved prince and heir to the Stratys throne, wishes me to
announce his betrothal.”

A flurry of excited whispers broke out and
Lyrai glanced at his brother, who looked thunderstruck, a red flush
creeping up his neck. Beside him, he felt Lady Mhysra turn away and
Stirla step closer.

Lady Milluqua swayed, whispering beneath her
breath,
“
Please, no. He
didn
’
t. He
wouldn
’
t. He promised.
Divine Lithaen aid me. He promised, Mhysra, he promised
me.
”

“We could not
be more pleased with his choice of bride,” the Stratys continued,
oblivious to the fact that his oldest son was arguing with his
friends, shaking off the more persistent as he tried to leave.
“Join with me, dear friends, in wishing them every future
happiness.

“To Prince
Henryn and Princess Demolie of Havia.”

The crowd dutifully echoed the toast, while
the ballroom doors slammed shut behind Henryn
.

“Oh, father,”
Lyrai murmured, as the crowd began to whisper. “What have you
done?”

“My apologies
to your brother,” Lady Milluqua said shakily. “But I am mightily
relieved.”

Lyrai stared
at her, truly taking in her glowing prettiness for the first time
and smiled. “As am I, my lady.” Stirla scowled at him over
Milluqua’s head. Eager to annoy his friend, he bowed over her hand
until he noticed that his parents were watching. He dropped it
hastily.

Lady Milluqua
stepped back and smoothed her skirts before turning to Stirla with
a bright smile. “I believe this is our dance, lieutenant.”

“Of course, my
lady.” As the music restarted, Stirla swiftly whirled his partner
away.

Which left
Lyrai with Mhysra, who watched him with raised eyebrows. “What are
your feelings on marriage, Your Highness?”

He
grimaced, having eschewed his title all his life. “Lyrai, please,
or lieutenant if you must, or even sir. But I beg you,
not
Highness.”

Eyebrows still
raised, she nodded. “I see.” He led her through a series of tight
twirls. “About marriage, sir, what are your thoughts?”

“Why?” It was
Lyrai’s turn to raise his eyebrows, unable to resist teasing. “Are
you asking?”

He was
rewarded with a horrified squeak and she stared at his shoulder
again. “I thought it only fair to warn you, that’s all.”

“About what,
marriage? Rest assured, my lady, I am already wary.”

Overcoming her
embarrassment with visible effort, she glanced at his eyes, then
quickly away again. “Perhaps not wary enough. It wasn’t just your
parents who watched you smile at my sister a moment ago.”

Lyrai spat a
curse that would have made any proper miss swoon. Thankfully he was
dancing with a Rider-in-training and she laughed, albeit
softly.

“As ambitious
as my parents are, at least marriage by proxy was outlawed last
century,” she said. When he glared at her, she grinned. “When do
you leave for Aquila?”

Not soon enough
,
he thought, whirling her one last time as the music slowed. “The
same time you do,” he reminded her. “The end of next
month.”

“You might
want to go into hiding until then,” she advised. “My parents are
tenacious.”

As were his.
Making a great show of returning her to her table, he kissed her
hand and smiled wryly. “A suitable endeavour for any Rider
lieutenant.” Spotting Stirla and Milluqua approaching, he made a
hasty retreat.

Now that the
Stratys had arrived, the evening was stiffening up. The pitchers on
the Rider tables definitely contained more water than wine now and
the food had long gone cold. As such Stirla, Fleik, Imaino and a
host of others were only too happy to accompany Lyrai as he made
his escape.

If several
expensive bottles intended for the top table disappeared at the
same time, well, it was sheer coincidence.

25
^th
Sun

“I
S
THAT YOU, MHYSRA?”

Exiting the servant
’
s stairway, Mhysra froze, cursing herself
for forgetting that her mother
’
s office was at this end of the house. Until now it
hadn
’
t mattered.
Besides, it was still early on the morning after the ball – most
people would still be abed. Or most normal people, anyway.

“We must
talk.”

Knowing that she had no other choice, Mhysra
walked into her mother
’
s
gloomy study. Never a big room, it was made smaller by stacks of
papers on the shelves, desk, chairs and floor. Despite its
haphazard appearance it was all meticulously ordered. Lady Kilpapan
would tolerate nothing less.

“
Sit
down.” Her mother indicated the chair in front of the desk. As
Mhysra shifted a stack of papers, the countess eyed her
critically.
“You intend
to visit the eyries?”

Perching carefully on the cleared seat,
Mhysra raised her chin.
“
I see Cumulo every day,
”
she said, folding her hands in her lap.
“
And fly whenever I
can.
”

Lady Kilpapan narrowed her eyes at
Mhysra
’
s flying
breeches.
“Do you always visit
the eyries dressed like that?”