Wintertide (5 page)

She stopped suddenly and peered at Amilia. “Do you have doves to release? You must have them. You simply must!”

Amilia thought to reply, but the concern fled the duchess’s face before she had a chance. Lady Genevieve was walking once more, pulling Amilia along. “Oh, I don’t want to frighten you, darling. There is still plenty of time given the proper help, of course. I am here now, and Modina will be thrilled at what we will achieve together. It will simply astound her.”

“I—”

“How many white horses have you arranged for? Not nearly enough, I’m sure. Never mind, it will all come together. You’ll see. Speaking of horses, I insist you accompany me on the hawking. I won’t stand for you riding with anyone else. You’ll love Leopold—he’s quiet, just like you are, but a real pumpkin. Do you know what I mean? It doesn’t look like you do—but no matter. You two will get on marvelously. Do you have a bird?”

“A bird?” Amilia managed to squeeze in.

“I’ll let you use Murderess. She is one of my own goshawks.”

“But—”

“No worries, my dear. There’s nothing to it. The bird does all the work. All you need to do is just sit on your horse and look pretty—which you will in the new dress Lois will make. Blue would be a good color and will go wonderfully with your eyes. I suppose I will have to arrange a horse as well. We can’t have you trudging through the snow and ruining the gown, now can we? I just know Saldur never thinks of such things. He appointed you Secretary to the Empress, but does he realize the need for clothing? A horse? Jewelry?”

The duchess paused again still gripping her arm like a cider press. “Oh, my darling, I just realized you aren’t wearing any—jewelry that is. Don’t be embarrassed. I understand perfectly. Otto is a fabulous jeweler. He can set a sapphire pendent in the blink of an eye. Won’t that look stunning with your new blue gown? Thank Maribor I brought my full retinue. Lord knows the local artisans could never keep up with me. When you think about it, who can?” She laughed, and Amilia wondered just how much longer she could go on.

With another pull, they were off again. “I tend to be a bit much, don’t I? It’s the way I am. I can’t help it. My husband stopped trying to turn me into a proper wife years ago. Of course, now he knows that my exuberance is what he loves most about me. ‘Never a dull moment or a moment’s peace,’ he always says. Speaking of men, have you chosen a champion to carry your favor in the joust?”

“N—no.”

“You haven’t? But, darling, knights just adore fighting for pretty, young things like you. I’ll bet you’ve driven them mad by waiting so long.”

There was a pause that startled Amilia into speech. “Ah, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“Ha hah!” Lady Genevieve laughed delightedly. “You
are
a marvel, darling. Simply fabulous! Ethelred tells me you’re new to the gentry—elevated by Maribor himself. Isn’t that delightful. Maribor’s Chosen One watching over Maribor’s Heir. How amazing!”

They turned the corner into the west wing where a handful of chambermaids scattered like pigeons before a carriage. “You’re a living legend, dear Amilia. Why, every knight in the kingdom will clamor for your favor. There will be none more sought after except the empress herself, but of course, no one would dare insult Ethelred by asking for
her
favor just weeks before his wedding! No one wants to make an enemy of a new emperor. That makes you the darling of the festival. You can have your pick of any eligible bachelor. Dukes, princes, earls, counts, and barons are all hoping for the chance to capture your attention or win the honor of sitting next to you at the feast with a victory on the field of Highcourt.”

“I wasn’t planning on going to either,” Amilia stated.

The mere idea of noblemen chasing her was beyond frightening. While courtly love might be honorable and romantic for princesses and countesses, no noble ever practiced gentleness with a common woman. Serving girls who caught the eye of any noble—whether a knight or king—could be taken against their will. Amilia had never been attacked, but she had wiped tears and bound wounds for more friends than she cared to count. Although she now possessed the title of
Lady
before her name, everyone knew her background, and Amilia feared her flimsy title would be a poor shield against a lust-driven noble.

“Nonsense, you must attend the feasts. Besides, it’s your duty. Your absence could very well start a riot! You don’t want to be the cause of an insurrection in the weeks leading to your empress’s wedding, do you?”

“Ah, no, of course—”

“Good, so it’s all settled. Now you just need to pick someone. Do you have a favorite?”

“I don’t know any of them.”

“None? Good gracious, darling! Do they keep you a prisoner? What about Sir Elgar or Sir Murthas? Prince Rudolph is competing, and he is a fine choice with an excellent future. Of course, there is also Sir Breckton. You couldn’t find a better choice than that. I know he
does
have the reputation of being a bit stuffy. It is true, of course. But after his victory in Melengar, he’s the hero of the hour—and quite dashing.” The duchess wiggled her eyebrows. “Yes, Breckton would be a perfect choice. Why, the ladies of several courts have been fawning over him for years.”

A look of concern crossed Lady Genevieve’s face. “Hmm…that does bring up a good point. You’ll probably need to be careful. While you are certainly the object of every knight’s affections, that means you’re also the target of every lady’s jealousy.”

The duchess threw a meaty arm around Amilia’s neck and pulled her close, as if she was going to whisper in her ear, but her voice did not drop a bit in volume. “Trust me, these women are dangerous. Courtly love isn’t a game to them. You’re new to politics, so I am telling you this for your own good. These are daughters of kings, dukes, and earls, and they are used to getting what they want. When they don’t, they can be vengeful. They know all about your background. I am certain that many have sent spies to visit your family, trying to dig up what dirt they can. If they can’t find any, trust me, they will invent some.”

Lady Genevieve tugged her around another corner, this time toward the northern postern and up the steps to the third floor.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It’s quite simple, my dear. On the one hand, they think belittling you should be easy because of your common roots. But, on the other, you’ve never made any pretense of being otherwise, which negates their effort. It’s difficult to demean someone for something they’re not embarrassed of, now isn’t it? Still, you must turn a deaf ear to any jibes told at your expense. You may hear name calling like swine herder and such. Which, of course, you’re not. You must remember you’re the daughter of a carriage maker and a fine one at that. Why, absolutely everyone who is anyone is beating a path to your father’s door. They all want to ride in a coach crafted by the father of the Chosen One of Maribor.”

“You know about my father? My family? Are they all right?” Amilia stopped so suddenly that the duchess walked four steps before realizing she had lost her.

Amilia had long feared her family was dead from starvation or illness. They had had so little. She left home two years ago to remove an extra mouth from the table with the intent of sending money home, but she had not counted on Edith Mon.

The head maid had declared Amilia’s old clothes unfit and demanded she pay for new ones. This forced Amilia to borrow against her salary. Broken or chipped plates also added to her bill, and in the first few months, there were many. With Edith, there was always something to keep Amilia penniless. Eventually the head maid even began fining her for disobedience or misbehavior, keeping Amilia in constant debt.

How she had hated Edith. The old ogre had been so cruel that there had been nights when Amilia had gone to sleep wishing the woman would die. She fantasized that a carriage would hit her or that she would choke on a bone. Now that Edith was gone, she almost regretted those thoughts. Charged with treason, Edith had been executed less than a week ago, with all of the palace staff required to watch.

In more than two years, Amilia had been unable to save even a single copper to send home and had heard nothing from her family. While the empress was trapped in her catatonic daze, the regents sequestered the palace staff to prevent others from learning about her condition. During that time, Amilia had been as much a prisoner as Modina. Writing letters home had been useless. The palace rumor mill maintained that all letters were burned by order of the regents. After Modina recovered, Amilia continued to write, but she never received a single reply. There had been reports of an epidemic near her home, and she feared her family was dead. Amilia had given up all hope of ever seeing them again—until now.

“Of course they’re all right, darling. They are more than all right. Your family is the toast of Tarin Vale. From the moment the empress spoke your name during her speech on the balcony, people have flocked to the hamlet to kiss the hand of the woman who bore you and to beg words of wisdom from the man who raised you.”

As they reached the third floor guest chambers, Amilia’s eyes began to water. “Tell me about them. Please. I must know.”

“Well, let’s see. Your father expanded his workshop, and it now takes up an entire block. He’s received hundreds of orders from all over Avryn. Artisans from as far away as Ghent beg for the chance to work as his apprentices, and he’s hired dozens. The townsfolk have elected him to city council. There is even talk of making him mayor come spring.”

“And my mother?” Amilia asked with a quivering lip. “How is she?”

“She’s just marvelous, darling. Your father bought the grandest house in town and filled it with servants, leaving her plenty of time for leisure. She started a modest salon for the local artisan women. They mostly eat cake and gossip. Even your brothers are prospering. They supervise your father’s workers and have their pick of the women for wives. So you see, my dear, I think it is safe to say your family is doing
very
well indeed.”

Tears ran down Amilia’s face.

“Oh, darling! What is wrong? Wentworth!” she called out as they reached her quarters. A dozen servants paused in their tasks to look up. “Give me your handkerchief, and get a glass of water immediately!”

The duchess directed Amilia to sit on a settee, and Genevieve dabbed the girl’s tears away with surprising delicacy.

“I’m sorry,” Amilia said softly. “I just—”

“Nonsense! I’m the one who should apologize. I had no idea such news would upset you,” she spoke in a soft motherly voice. Then, turning in the direction the servant had gone, the duchess roared, “Where’s that water!”

“I’m all right—really,” Amilia assured her. “I just haven’t seen my family in so long and I was afraid…”

Lady Genevieve smiled and embraced Amilia. The duchess whispered in her ear, “Dear, I’ve heard it said that people come from far and wide to ask your family how
you
saved the empress. Their reported response is that they know nothing about that, but what they can say with complete certainty is that you saved them.”

Amilia shook with emotion at the words.

Lady Genevieve picked up the handkerchief. “Where’s that water!” she bellowed once more. When it arrived, the duchess thrust the cool glass into Amilia’s hands. She drank while the big woman brushed back her hair.

“There now, that’s better,” Lady Genevieve purred.

“Thank you.”

“Not at all, darling. Do you feel up to finding out why I brought you here?”

“Yes, I think so.”

They were in the duchess’s formal reception area, part of the four-room suite that Lady Genevieve had redecorated, transforming the dull stone shell into a warm, rich parlor. Thick woolen drapes of red and gold covered every inch of wall. Facades made the arrow slits appear large and opulent. An intricately carved cherry mantle fronted the previously bare stone fireplace. Layers of carpets covered the entire room, making the floor soft and cozy. Not a stick of the original furniture remained. Everything was new and lovelier than anything Amilia had ever seen.

A dozen servants, all dressed in reds and golds, returned to work. One individual, however, stood out. He was a tall, well-tailored man in a delightful outfit of silver and gold brocade. On his head he wore a whimsical, yet elegant, hat that displayed a long, billowing plume.

“Viscount,” the duchess called, waving the man over. “Amilia, darling, I want you to meet Viscount Albert Winslow.”

“Enchanted indeed.” He removed his hat and swept it elaborately in a reverent bow.

“Albert is perhaps the foremost expert on organizing grand events. I hired him to mastermind my Summersrule Festival, and it was utterly amazing. I tell you, the man is a genius.”

“You are far too kind, My Lady,” Winslow said softly with a warm smile.

“How you managed to fill the moat with leaping dolphins is beyond me. And the streamers that filled the sky—why I’ve never seen such a thing. It was pure magic!”

“I’m pleased to have pleased you, My Lady.”

“Amilia, you simply must use Albert. Don’t worry about the cost. I insist on paying for his services.”

“Nonsense, good ladies. I couldn’t conceive of taking payment for such a noble and worthwhile endeavor. My time is yours, and I’ll do whatever I can out of devotion to you both and, of course, for Her Eminence.”

“There now!” Lady Genevieve exclaimed. “The man is as chivalrous as a paladin. You
must
take him up on his offer, darling!”

They both stared at Amilia until she found herself nodding.

“I am delighted to be of service, My Lady. When can I meet with your staff?”

“Ah…” Amilia hesitated. “There’s only me and Nimbus.
Oh, Nimbus!
I’m sorry but I was on my way to meet with him when you—I mean—when we met. I’m supposed to be selecting entertainment for the feasts and I’m terribly late.”

“Well, you should hurry off, then,” Lady Genevieve said. “Take Albert with you. He can begin there. Now run along. There is no need to thank me, my dear. Your success will be my reward.”