Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (14 page)

Zora remained silent and observant as well.  Spencer would speak to her when he wanted to.  It didn’t bother Zora that she was being ignored at the moment; she was use to it from Evangeline.  Plus, it gave her a chance to watch out for the Cup Bearer’s arrival with their wine, knowing that she would have a limited opportunity to slip the truth telling brew into her mother’s chalice unnoticed. 

Ever since that night in her mother’s bedchamber, when Evangeline had sentenced Zora to a life in Montanisto, she had been determined to uncover her mother’s motives for doing so.  She resorted to the potion because she knew she could rely on its results when she had no other option.

Zora tapped her heels nervously, feeling as though the Cup Bearer was intentionally taking a long time to serve their table. When he did arrive, she watched him like a hawk as he delicately poured red wine from a carafe into ten silver chalices stationed on a crystal serving tray.  Zora felt her heart began to flutter and her stomach begin to knot as he made his rounds, coming closer and closer to her and the Queen.

I can’t go through with this,
Zora thought
.  If someone sees me and finds out what I’ve done, they’ll deem me a witch and sentence me to death.
  Zora reached up and caressed the hourglass pendent hanging from her neck, feeling the cool glass against her skin. 
But if I don’t do this, then I’ll never know what my mother is plotting.

Zora
pushed back her chair a bit and bent down to retrieve the vial from her corset, acting as though she was fixing the folds of her dress as a diversion.  When she had it in her hand, she removed the stopper and dropped it on the floor next to her.  Evangeline glared at her when she sat back up.

“Stop fidgeting, child,” she growled in Zora’s direction.  “You should be trying to get Spencer’s attention!  Not hanging your head down like a demented recluse.” 

Zora nodded obediently.  She was gripping the vial secretly in her hand, which was luckily was hidden by the excess materials of her ridiculous sleeves.  The Cup Bearer made his rounds to each patron, setting each glass of wine down slowly.  When it was her turn, Zora seized the chalice greedily, cupping one hand in front of the other before quickly pouring the contents of the vial into the cup before anyone would notice.  The men at the end of the table were still clearly involved in their own separate discussion, and Evangeline had her body turned towards Lady Miranda who was chatting away rapidly.  Zora checked herself again to ensure her mother wasn’t watching, and quickly switched her chalice for her mother’s. 

When all was done, she glanced around feeling relieved. She peered through the seated crowd to the other side of the room, watching the servants scurrying between the guests with trays of meat and vegetables.  The candlelight in the room, along with the alluring smells of apple and cinnamon crepes and the musical sounds of the string quartet, provided a very whimsical ambiance.  At the end of the table, Zora could still hear the six men talking loudly, however Prince Spencer’s voice had taken on a slightly more intense tone.

“Cara has, by far, the largest and most efficient agricultural systems, General Bludworth.  Every single country in the Realm trades with us in return for our sugarcane and molasses.  There is none that can match its purity and quality.”

“I’m not disputing the quality, Prince DeVore,” Brutus replied impatiently.  “It’s the manner in which the sugarcane is cultivated that I disagree with.”  Spencer just gave a loud, boisterous laugh.

“But that’s what the slaves were created to do, General.  The Misou people need to be ruled.  They haven’t the mental capacity to advance above basic animal instincts such as our ancestors have.  You must understand this is the only way Cara has lived in peace for so many years.  There are some in this world who are meant to be ruled and some who are meant to rule them.  Cara is a prime example of that.”

“No one should be denied from reaping what they sow, Prince Spencer,” Brutus shot back.  “Even if they are a more primitive race, the Misou shouldn’t be forced to work another man’s land without receiving any profit in return.  It just isn’t right!” 

The conversation caught Zora’s attention, and she glanced over at them to see Spencer’s face flushed red in anger.

“I own those people, as my family has for centuries before me.  How I choose to manage my land is none of your concern!”

He yelled at Brutus then brought his hand down on the table with a loud smack.  The whole table vibrated, and Zora watched as Spencer’s chalice of wine toppled over, spilling its purple contents all over the dinnerware.  His face turned a deeper shade of red as he apologized repeatedly to Queen Evangeline and the others around him.  The Queen smiled at him with a pretend kindness while her servants began cleaning up the mess.

“It’s only wine, Prince Spencer.  There’s more where that came from.  Here, you can have mine in the meantime.  It hasn’t been touched.”  Zora watched, helpless and horrified, as her mother handed Prince Spencer the poisoned wine.

“Thank you, Queen Evangeline,” Spencer said humbly before bringing the chalice slowly to his lips.  Zora gasped loudly.  She pushed back her chair to stand up causing a large scrapping sound across the floor. 

“No!  Stop!  Don’t!” she cried, reaching her hand out to grab the cup from Spencer.  The conversation at the table abruptly stopped, and all faces turned towards Zora.  Spencer had frozen mid-sip, his small eyes looking at her like she was crazy.

“Zora!  What is
wrong
with you?” Evangeline demanded under her breath. 

“I-I thought I saw something,” Zora stuttered.  “Behind Prince DeVore.”  She looked at the group of distinguished people surrounding her and felt embarrassment creep into her cheeks. 

“I apologize, everyone.  It’s just a mistake.  I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to interrupt.  I…um…ugh.” 

Zora returned to her seat noticing how the others were giving each other private looks of confusion.  Evangeline looked positively livid.  Spencer regarded her for a moment before gulping down the poisoned wine intended for the Queen.  No one pressed the issue further.

Throughout dinner, Zora sat listening to Spencer, who decided to evade her even longer after her episode.  This gave Zora an opportunity to study him, to see if the brew had any effects on him.  He made reasonable arguments against the Queen’s advisors as they debated, but he was overly loud and somewhat obnoxious.  As the hours passed, Zora began to feel disappointed that her potion was a failure, but was grateful at the same time.  While dessert was being prepared, the string quartet began playing a traditional Samarian dance tune that lifted Zora’s mood.  She looked over at her betrothed and mustered the courage to infringe on him to appease her mother.

“My Prince, would you care for a dance?”  She tried to smile convincingly.

“No, I would not,” he replied harshly.  “I despise dancing.”  He paused, and Zora could see a strange, glazed look enter his eyes.  “However, I’m here under instruction of the King to impress you, so I’ll dance.  But don’t expect me to do it again.”

Spencer’s sudden blatancy surprised Zora, but she didn’t object when he came around the table to walk her to the dance floor.  Once there, he turned around to stand next to her, almost hitting her in the eye with the absurd peacock feather hat.  He brought his lanky arm around her waist to begin the dance.

“Blast you’re skinny!” he commented with an unmistakable look of revulsion.  “How can you possibly birth healthy children with no girth to support them?  I’d think you were a boy if you weren’t in a dress.” 

Zora’s jaw dropped.  She knew she was small, but did he have to say it like
that
? 

“Children?” she blurted out in surprise.  Spencer ignored her and began spinning her around the dance floor to the tempo of the music.  Colors and faces flew by her in a blur.

“Of course, Zora.  Remember, I
am
of the ruling bloodline.  Any sons I have will inherit my township of Montanisto and ultimately still have a claim to the Carian throne if anything should happen to Andre’s lineage.  You can have children, correct.”

Zora bit her lip, unsure if she should answer such an inappropriate question.

“I, um, assume so,” she replied then shot back with, “there is no guarantee it will be a boy, you know.  What if you have daughters?”

“That’s just a chance we have to take,” Spencer said.  “Daughters are good for gaining land and dowry, but other than that there is no use for them in the court or as a ruler of Montanisto.  You’re the perfect example.  Queen Evangeline is doing everything she can to keep you from taking her throne.  Who in their right mind would marry off the last heir in their bloodline unless they weren’t competent enough to handle the burden?”

Zora held firmly onto Spencer’s sweaty hand as they danced.  She couldn’t believe he was saying this to her!  It was too unrefined for a noble to speak like this; something was off.  Maybe her brew wasn’t a failure after all.

“Well, if you feel a daughter is of such low value, then what of me, Prince Spencer? What do you expect of a good wife?”

              “To be acquiescent,” he replied firmly.  “A wife of mine should concern herself with managing the household and the children and refrain from doing anything that would shame me.  Like interrupting one of my conversations.  Do
not
do that again.  Hence, I’ll take care of making all the important decisions.” 

              “Does this mean that I cannot continue my education, My Prince?  Since I won’t be making any important decisions.”  She hoped he noticed that sarcasm in her voice.

              “A woman has limited need of an extensive education, Zora.  That is what her husband is for.  In fact, I think it’s an abomination your mother has weaseled her way into power of this beautiful country and refused to marry to keep a man from ruling it.  It’s completely unnatural.  And then there is the whole situation with you.  Born out of wedlock with a no-name father.  What kind of ruler does that make her if she has such obvious bad judgment.” 

Zora stopped in mid-step when he said this and let go of his hands in the middle of the dance floor.  She was completely speechless and appalled.  Why was he saying all of this?  Spencer looked around and sneered.

              “Zora, people are watching us.  Don’t embarrass me.” 

              “I’m just getting really flushed,” Zora lied.  She didn’t care if people were staring.  “Let’s go sit down.”  Spencer nodded and grabbed her arm again.  Zora had to do everything possible to keep from slapping his hand away.

“I don’t know about Samarian customs,” Spencer began again, “but when a man and woman wed in Cara they usually present nuptial gifts to one another.”  Zora was barely listening.  At the moment, she wanted to be as far away from Spencer as she could get.  He was revolting.

“I was wondering if you could gift me with a gem piece of a large Samarian diamond.  That will be sure to impress the other patrons of the Carian court, not to mention Andre and Percy.  Can you do that for your soon to be husband?”  Zora nodded mutely.

“Good.  I figured you’d do as I asked,” he replied with a closed mouth smile.  Zora thought maybe he’d inquire as to what she desired for a wedding gift, but he didn’t.  She sighed in frustration and spoke up.

“Can I request something also, My Prince?”

“I suppose.”

“I’d like a parcel of Montanisto earth to call my own.”  Spencer scrunched up his unsymmetrical face as if she’d asked him for a chamber pot.

“Why would you want such a thing?” he asked.

“I enjoy gardening, My Prince, and growing green things that fill the world with beauty.”  Spencer flouted at her explanation.

“We leave such witless work to the servants, Zora.  Surely you don’t associate yourself with one of them.”  He stopped to reconsider, then shrugged.  “But if you insist, I suppose it won’t be an issue.  Just don’t let anyone see you playing around in the dirt.  It’d be quite demeaning for your reputation.  And mine.”

  Zora just rolled her eyes but inside her mind was racing.  The Carian people were loud and outspoken, but no one in their sane mind would talk like this.  It had to be an effect of the brew.  But that made matters even worse.  Spencer DeVore really did think like this, and he didn’t even know he was admitting it!  Zora just had one more question for her betrothed, one that would prove if he really was under the influence of Zora’s truth telling serum or not, a question that was forbidden in the entire Realm to even mention by penalty of death. 

              “My Prince, just one more question please.”  She turned to face him.  His eyes really were too close together next to the bridge of his nose.  Zora drew in close to him and stood on her tiptoes, bringing her mouth to his ear until she could smell the sweat and oil in his hair. 

“Do you believe in sorcery?” she asked softly.  She waited tensely for his response, his breathing heavy in her ears.  Spencer’s hands secured on her shoulders and tightened painfully causing her to jump.

              “My Lady, I grew up on the Borderlands,” he whispered back.  “And after the things I’ve seen down there, I’d be mad not to.” 

Zora swallowed hard as Spencer dipped his head at her and returned back to the table to continue in conversation with the Queen’s advisors.  Zora’s stomach felt sick even though she’d hardly eaten a thing.