The Dragon of Despair (21 page)

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Authors: Jane Lindskold

Tags: #Adult, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Dragon of Despair
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Elise thought this unlikely, given the geographic location of New Kelvin relative to the Archer Grant, and said so. The king waved his hand lightly, dismissing her protest.

“You worry too much about little things. Perhaps the venture would be undertaken in partnership with House Kestrel. After all, young Edlin is to be one of your companions. In any case, no matter what excuse is created for your making the journey, we…” King Tedric’s gesture included Sapphire and Shad. “…feel that it would be best if more of your companions were skilled in the language of New Kelvin.”

Elise nodded. It had been a nuisance last time that only she and Wendee Jay spoke the language at all well.

“Grateful Peace has agreed to tutor your entire group.”

This didn’t really surprise Elise. Peace must be grateful to them for saving his life and be eager to pay back the debt.

“Moreover…”

A fit of coughing interrupted whatever the king was about to say.

“Moreover,” Sapphire said, handing King Tedric yet another cup of medicinal tea, “if Citrine is to make the journey under your care, you and she must have time to become reacquainted. More importantly, there must be time for her to learn to trust you and the others. Any plan we devise to ensure your safe return could be seriously jeopardized if one of her fits caught you unawares.”

Again Elise nodded. She didn’t know whether Sapphire was hinting that they were considering sending the team in disguise or that there would be those prepared to help if they were forced to make a rapid retreat. Either would be jeopardized by a small girl acting up. Elise considered asking just what form Citrine’s episodes took, but Sapphire was continuing on.

“We would like you to escort Citrine to the Norwood Grant. We have already been in contact with Duchess Kestrel and she is preparing a private house where Citrine can live with you and at least some of your companions.” Sapphire added quickly, “She is also arranging for proper servants and chaperonage. Grateful Peace can teach you there. Also, when Citrine has bad days—and it is too much to hope she will not—you will have privacy.”

Sapphire sighed heavily and Shad unobtrusively slipped his hand around hers in comfort. Elise swallowed hard. A private house somewhere in the vast reaches of the North Woods. Her companions. That meant Edlin and Wendee. That meant Jared.

The others pretended not to notice her discomfort.

Shad spoke. “When either Firekeeper or Derian Carter return, you shall be notified by pigeon. If they do not return or we need you to go ahead without them, you will also be notified.”

“And,” Sapphire continued, “you don’t need to leave this moment. I suggest that we send a message to your parents informing them that it might not be a bad idea for them to come to Eagle’s Nest in a few days. I believe it is about time for Lady Aurella to attend upon the queen in any case, so it shouldn’t raise too much gossip. This way, we can explain to them in person.”

“You seem to have thought of everything,” Elise said gratefully.

Except just how we can be sure we will leave New Kelvin—or at least that we will leave there alive.

THE NEXT HANDFUL OF DAYS
passed far more quickly than Elise could have hoped. She and Ninette were fully occupied with shopping and making calls. Not many of her Wellward relations had come up from their holdings yet, but there was a cousin or so around upon whom she was required to call. Then there were those who hoped she would call on
them
.

Elise’s recent interview with the king and his heirs—already common gossip among those with connections in the castle—had raised her social allure greatly. Some wanted to see if they could pry details of the meeting from her. For this, Elise found that the best thing to do was to start chattering at length about meaningless intricacies of New Kelvinese culture. She managed to sound quite informed—informed enough that it was reasonable that the king might have wished to consult her—but so dull and caught up in minutiae that she left the majority of her audience suspecting that the king regretted giving her his time.

Most of those who sent her invitations, however, were not interested in what Elise had done and said, but in what she had seen. How did the crown princess look? Was it true that Crown Prince Shad was trying to make over the Royal Guard after the fashion of Bright Bay? Did Elise think the Bright Bay custom of assigning new posts and titles would find favor in the court? Had she seen young Citrine? Was it true she raved constantly and had torn out most of her hair? Were the king and queen as ill as everyone said?

The last was the only question Elise had any difficulty answering. For most of the rest a little consideration let her find the answer that would do the royal family the least damage.

One person who markedly refused to see Elise, though Elise faithfully offered to attend upon her daily, was Grand Duchess Rosene. The day following Elise’s long conference with the king, Grandmother Rosene had commanded Elise to attend on her in her apartments at the castle. When Elise told her only what she was telling everyone else, Rosene flew into a rage, and from that point on Elise’s notes, sent faithfully every morning by special messenger, were returned with “Not In” printed across the fold.

Elise tried not to worry, but she wasn’t completely successful.

Five days after Elise’s audience with King Tedric, Lady Aurella and Baron Archer arrived in Eagle’s Nest. They were barely settled when Grand Duchess Rosene swept in. She closeted herself with her son, pointedly leaving Elise out—though she was at home. Later, Lady Aurella was summoned to join them and soon after Lady Aurella’s confidential maid came bearing a note from her mistress.


Elise,
” it said, “
I suggest you find an excuse to leave the house. Surely you have calls to make. Your grandmother is behaving shamefully and I have no desire for you to suffer while her tongue is dripping venom.

Since Elise already knew she had her parents’ support for her participation in King Tedric’s plan, she took her mother’s advice and left the Archer manse as quickly as was reasonable. She had been invited to tea with some of the young ladies of her generation and had accepted tentatively, not being certain whether or not her parents would need her. Now she had a fit excuse both to attend and to leave the house.

Still, as Elise sipped tea and chattered about the most fashionable styles for the coming summer and the most eligible of the young men, she wondered what the grand duchess was saying. Elise had not told her parents of Rosene’s plan to insist that they adopt Deste Trueheart, feeling that for better or worse, it was wisest to have it come from its source. Now she wondered what they would think and what they would do.

And maybe,
Elise thought, even as she giggled over someone’s description of someone else’s flirtation,
it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have them adopt Deste, not a bad idea at all.

 

WHEN ELISE RETURNED
home she saw the grand duchess’s carriage still parked around the side. This surprised her. On the whole, a visit from Grand Duchess Rosene was like a sudden windstorm, tearing through, upsetting everything, and leaving disruption, if not devastation, in its wake.

Rosene preferred to hold longer conferences in her own rooms at the castle, where she could conveniently forget to have windows opened or closed, or refreshments served, or play whatever little games she deemed necessary to keep her audience off balance.

Feeling rather apprehensive, Elise went inside. She hardly had time to hand her light shawl to the downstairs maid when Lady Aurella emerged from the parlor.

“Elise,” Aurella said with a slightly apologetic smile, “your grandmother has waited expressly to see you. Would you come with me?”

Elise could imagine the scene that had preceded this quiet request and reached out to squeeze her mother’s hand before following. She fought down her resentment that Rosene would use Aurella as an errand girl. If Lady Aurella could take such treatment in her own house so calmly then Elise resolved to model her own behavior on her mother’s.

Grand Duchess Rosene was seated in a high-backed chair upholstered in floral print fabric—an heirloom of her own days as mistress of this house. Gowned in pale pink, her white hair piled high on her head, her fair skin flushed, she did not rise when Elise entered. Such a gesture would have been wasted, for they both knew that her remaining had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with power.

And it’s very strange,
Elise thought as she bent to properly embrace the old woman,
because she is fond of me—loves me dearly in her own way. Just because that way is rather after the fashion a spoiled girl loves her dolls doesn’t change that the love is there.

Rosene did not soften under her granddaughter’s embrace, remaining as stiff and brittle as a porcelain doll. Nor did she wait to get to the point.

“Your parents told me that you have agreed to some madcap scheme of Tedric’s,” she said sharply. “Something that involves your taking off for the North Woods.”

Elise nodded, thinking how interesting it was that when Rosene was angry with her brother he was “Tedric,” but when she was playing on her relation to him he was always “the king” or even “His Royal Majesty.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” she said softly.

“Have you thought what this will mean to your House?” the old woman continued. “Already scandalmongers retail accounts of your adventures last winter. This will surely destroy what rags of a reputation remain to you as thoroughly as if you were to dance naked in the market square.”

Elise couldn’t help but smile at the image. It was so like something Firekeeper might have done early after her return from living among the wolves.

Grand Duchess Rosene chose to interpret the smile—with some justification—as impudence.

“So you think that’s funny!” she said. “Well, I do not find it at all funny. To think that the house my dear Purcel founded at the price of his blood and that we thought to perpetuate through our children should have come down to a single silly chit with no sense of self-respect. It makes me want to weep!”

Grandmother Rosene didn’t look in the least like she was about to weep. Her eyes were bright, not with tears but with fury. Elise thought about offering her a handkerchief, then wondered where such impulses came from. Surely she would never have entertained such a thought before. Maybe Rosene was right. Maybe she had changed and not for the better.

So Elise bowed her head and listened with a meekness she didn’t feel. Underneath the curtain of her hair, she sneaked a glance at her parents.

Baron Archer sat bolt upright in his chair, restlessly twirling a brandy snifter—though it was a touch early in the day for brandy—between his fingers. Otherwise he revealed no sign of agitation. Lady Aurella had picked up her omnipresent embroidery hoop and was stitching away with mechanical regularity. If anyone was to look, they might have seen she was drawing the stitches rather more tightly than was necessary.

Grandmother has said something to force them to school their tongues to silence,
Elise thought,
and they are not terribly happy about it either.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother,” Elise offered when Rosene ceased her indignant though wordless huffing.

“Then you will tell the king you have consulted with your parents and thought it wiser to refuse?”

“No, Grandmother,” Elise said stiffly. She suspected that if she did as her grandmother said, then before the end of the conversation Rosene would have come up with some reason that she should, after all, comply. That, however, would not do, not if Elise was to keep her own self-respect.

She wondered if her father would have recommended such a tactical retreat, but Baron Archer was not saying anything and she read no portents in the restless spinning of the snifter between his fingers.

“You will
not
?” the grand duchess said.

“No, Grandmother. I have given my word to the king. Moreover, care has been taken that I will be chaperoned—Ninette is coming with me as far as the Norwood Grant…”

“And what good did that do last winter?” Rosene interrupted. “None. You ran off, unchaperoned.”

“No, Grandmother, I did not. There was a respectable married woman—a retainer of Duchess Kestrel—who was with me at all times.”

Elise decided not to mention Firekeeper. Sapphire was right. In circles such as those her grandmother frequented, Firekeeper’s reputation was not even in rags; it simply didn’t exist. For those people it was not chastity, but the appearance of chastity that mattered.

“A retainer of Duchess Kestrel,” Grand Duchess Rosene sneered, “as if that is any recommendation. It’s no longer spoken of, but Saedee Norwood isn’t one to whom I’d trust a young girl’s honor. If you think I’m just being a sour-tongued old woman, ask your mother who fathered Saedee’s son and daughter.”

Elise turned wordlessly to Lady Aurella.

“No one knows,” Aurella answered.

Despite her desire to keep impassive no matter what she heard, Elise felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

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