Warrior (56 page)

features and that multicolored hair,

Lady Lydia had been the perfect

hostess, the perfect queen. And then

she’d birthed Varian, the spare, who

had been adorable as a baby, beautiful

as

a

teenager,

and

dashingly

handsome as a man. During that time,

Lydia and Vulcan had been coolly

polite toward each other, more like

formal strangers who coexisted in the

same castle, with her giving undivided

attention to Varian as Frederick

groomed Vulcan, despite his young

age, to be king.

Shaking his head, Vulcan thought of

what Vernon had said. Did she intend

to stay for the Season? He nodded,

thinking it a good thing. The lady

would show Jaisyn the ways of the

Morden Court. He stood, intent on

seeking out his stepmother to greet

her formally and welcome her to the

castle. He would soon have to speak

to his wife about the court season and

the preparations that were to be made

for it. Although Vulcan was not fond

of court, he had developed a liking for

it, for through the lens of court it was

easy to the first indications of unrest.

It was usually obvious which vassals

were

contemplating

an

uprising

against his rule.

***

Jaisyn had changed from her

traveling clothing and was now

outfitted in one of the gowns Vulcan

purchased for her. The dress was of a

strawberry hue, and long of sleeve,

with a square neckline that dipped into

a slight v at the center, encrusted with

small pearls, and white hemming at

the bottom of the full skirts. She

walked ahead of her ladies and sisters

as they made their way down the

steps of the castle and into the Great

Hall, where supper was to be served.

She was announced and she filed in,

searching out Vulcan, who sat at the

head of a table that had been moved

closer to the fire that burned at the

hearth. The table held empty seats at

the other end, for herself and her

ladies. She began to make her way

over, staring at her husband, and the

ladies who sat to his right. One was a

young lady, about her age, if not

slightly younger. She was beautiful,

with high cheekbones, luminous pale

skin, and long, shiny black hair that

had been swept atop her head and

pinned. The dress she wore was dark,

possibly a dark green, and when

Jaisyn’s eyes found hers—a stunning

violet—the woman dipped her head

respectfully.

Jaisyn arrived at her place, and

turned to look at the older woman.

Unlike the younger, this woman faced

Jaisyn boldly, and a small smile

curved her lips. A wave of her hand

and her chair was pulled back by a

servant. She stepped away from the

table and approached Jaisyn and her

ladies.

When the dowager was close

enough that Jaisyn could see her

exceptional features—the thin face

and delicate bone structure, striking

blue eyes, lustrous hair of all shades—

she curtsied, the black dress she wore

sweeping the floor, and then offered a

pale hand, bejeweled with the

precious stones of the earth.

“It is a pleasure to meet my first

daughter-in-law, Her Majesty, the

new Queen of Morden,” the woman

said

loudly,

and

Jaisyn’s

eyes

widened. Now she knew why her

features seemed similar. This was

Varian’s mother, and she now saw

where Varian had received his good

looks. But Varian was at least in his

late twenties and this woman barely

looked a day over thirty.

Remembering herself, Jaisyn dipped

her head and took the woman’s hand,

a smile forming on her lips.

“Lady

Mor’an,”

she

said

courteously, passing a quick glance to

her husband, who was standing, like

everyone else, and looked irresolute.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The lady nodded and they both

returned their hands to their sides.

“I regret that I was indisposed when

you first arrived and could not give

you the welcome you deserved. I also

regret not being present for the

marriage of my elder son,” she paused

for effect and Jaisyn could almost see

the frown on Vulcan’s face, before

she continued, “but alas, I was quite

unaware of it until you were brought

here.”

Lady Mor’an suddenly turned and

faced the generals and nobles standing

on the side of the table. “I will sit next

to my daughter-in-law. You will all

kindly move one seat over.” She faced

Jaisyn once more. “We have much to

discuss, my dear.”

***

After her first conversation with

Lady Lydia Mor’an, Jaisyn agreed

with Anne. She was demanding. After

ordering everyone to move seats, the

lady had sat beside Jaisyn and during

supper, had proceeded to have an

inquisition on her life. She’d asked

about her parents, siblings, Lytheria...

At some point, someone seated

beside Lydia asked a question of the

lady. It was enough for Jaisyn to focus

momentarily on her husband, who

was engrossed in conversation with

the lady who’d been sitting opposite

Lydia. She scanned the table and was

surprised to see that Lady Savoy was

nowhere in sight. In fact, the only

eligible lady who flanked him was the

violet-eyed woman, as an elderly

matron now sat where his stepmother

had been. Jaisyn’s eyes remained on

Vulcan as he smiled at the something

the young woman said, as her small

hand reached out and touched his in a

manner that unnerved her. Lips

tightening, eyes narrowing, and fists

clenching on her lap, she continued to

watch

them.

He

had

barely

acknowledged her for almost two

weeks and here he was, practically

flirting with another woman, at her

table.

“Pay them no mind, my dear.” The

lady must have noticed the tenseness

of her face for she looked toward her

niece and stepson and said those

words. “My niece, Lady Calista, and

Vulcan are childhood friends. I am

sure

they

are

only

becoming

reacquainted, as they have not seen

each other in years. I heard that you

were taken to Sulan after the

unfortunate event of which we will not

speak. Were you treated pleasantly, at

least?”

Lydia’s attempt at putting Jaisyn’s

mind at ease had done the exact

opposite. Although she relaxed the

muscles in her face and responded to

the lady’s many questions, her eyes

skimmed over her husband and Calista

every so often. Childhood friends?

The woman was at complete ease

around her husband, unlike most of

the women, save for his ex-lovers,

she’d encountered in Morden.

“I have heard that Lytheria is warm

year round. Is that true, my dear? I

wonder however does my Varian deal

with that heat? He does enjoy the cold

so. How did you put up with the heat?

Morden experiences warm days

merely three months a year before it

is plunged once more into the blissful

cold.”

Jaisyn looked back to the lady, who

was staring at her with an open

expression and an easy smile. Jaisyn

nodded and gave her undivided

attention, including her ladies and her

sisters in the conversation as Lydia

wished to hear as much as possible

about her kingdom of birth.

***

The days that passed were similar to

that day in the Great Hall. Every meal

served found Calista seated beside

Vulcan and Lydia next to Jaisyn.

Vulcan had barely said more than a

mouthful of words to her in almost

five entire days and when he’d been

forced to speak to her, it was as if he

were speaking to a stranger. He’d told

her, quite coolly, that Lady Mor’an

would instruct her in the things

needed to be done for the upcoming

Season. And that was the extent of

their

conversation.

Lydia

had

introduced her to Calista but for all of

Jaisyn’s diplomacy, she could not find

a smile for the woman, who was even

more beautiful than she’d first

observed. Calista seemed well aware

of it.

Along with her sisters and ladies,

and of course, a horde of armed

warriors, she, Lydia and her ladies,

and her niece of course, took two

carriages into the city, to Madame

Lefroy’s dress shop, where exclusive

gowns were to be created for the

upcoming Season. Jaisyn had been

surprised when they’d been allowed

from the gates, as she’d half-expected

Vulcan to ride in front of the carriages

and stop them. No such thing

happened. It was as if her husband

had dismissed her from his mind.

Perhaps he still felt betrayed by her

actions, but he did not show it. He

made no move to seek her out, even

to argue with her, and Jaisyn’s pride

had already suffered when she’d

confessed her love for him and he had

not returned it. And he avoided her

bed, which hurt her more than

anything, as more than a few of their

disputes had been settled there.

“What do you think of this gown,

milady

Lydia?”

Lady

Calista’s

incessant voice wafted over her like a

splash of cold water, reminding her

that she was standing inside the

spacious store filled with both

conservatively

appropriate

and

scandalously revealing gowns. Lydia,

Anne, and Jane sat on plush chairs in

the various corners of the shop while

Isolde, Mathilda, and Calista had been

so taken by the new dress styles that

would grace the upcoming Season that

they’d begun trying them on. Jaisyn,

who had rested her legs enough in the

carriage, stood staring out of the large

shop window, smiling and waving at

times when a curious child passed by.

The simple presence of warriors

surrounding the store alerted most

people that a royal, more than likely

the queen as it was a dress shop, was

inside.

“It is quite beautiful, Calista. And it

fits you very well, my dear. You shall

be the talk of the Season once more.

Perhaps you will catch the eye of a

duke…if not a handsome foreign

prince?” Lydia laughed softly at her

playfulness and Calista beamed,

turning to look at herself in the long

and wide looking glass.

Jaisyn had been determined not to

turn to see Lydia sashay herself about

the room but curiosity was an

interesting thing. She turned her face

slightly before returning her attention

to the bustling outside the shop. The

dress was cut exquisitely, with

lavender-colored lace loops adorning

the tops of her arms, and lining the

low neckline of the dress. The pale

skin at the top of her back was on

display as well. While the dress was

revealing, it was not overly so. It was

a flowing violet silk, gathered at the

waist, then flared out beautifully to the

toes. It matched Calista’s eyes to

perfection and Jaisyn scowled at her

thoughts.

She was jealous and disliked it.

After a few more hours in the dress

shop,

the

dressmaker

and

her

assistants had recorded the types of

dresses and cuts that the queen and

rest of the ladies wished for the

Season.

When they returned to the castle,

Lydia and her party retired to their

quarters for afternoon rest, and Jane

and Anne walked back to their