Realm of Dragons

“I’m saying that you’re in, girl. For now. You will be a squire here, serving with the knights. You will learn, and if you learn, you will stay. If you fail, you will be sent back to Royalsport. It is that simple. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Commander Harr.”

He nodded, a certain gruff acknowledgment in the movement. “Very well. Welcome to the Spur.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In her chambers, Lenore was finally starting to think that everything might be perfect. Oh, she knew that Finnal’s father and hers had had last-minute talks about things to do with her dowry, but those seemed to have been sorted out now, and her siblings had been told to play their parts: Erin and Nerra had even sat through a dress fitting earlier, with Erin glowering hard in case anyone dared to call her pretty, and Nerra changing behind a screen so that no one might see her.

The guests were starting to come into the city, the festivities were in place, and the whole order of the procession around the kingdom was arranged. Yes, Lenore would rather have had Rodry than Vars escorting her, but maybe this would be a good chance for her to build some bridges with her brother.

Lenore looked out from her window over Royalsport. The tide was in, so that it became a glittering thing of islands surrounded by the shimmer of water. In moments like this, even the city was beautiful. Still, Lenore had to turn away from it, because there was still plenty to do.

“What’s the itinerary for the wedding procession?” she asked.

One of her maids, Zia, took out a map of the kingdom. It showed the south too, but only in vague terms. The river cut them off from one another so completely that it was almost not worth mapping it. Idly, Lenore found herself wondering what it might be like there. Maybe one day, she and her husband would make the trip over one of the bridges to find out, maybe on a diplomatic mission.

Lenore smiled at that thought. She was already planning out her life with Finnal even though she wasn’t married to him yet. Just the thought of him made her heart swell; he was so handsome, so courtly, so perfect.

“We’ll head down through the villages along this route,” Zia said, “sweeping south until we come to the coast. Then we’ll head west, and north.”

“And how long will this take?” Lenore asked. “Have we arranged supplies for all of it?”

“Orianne was doing that,” Zia said. She looked around. “I’m not sure where she is today. She said that someone had come she needed to talk to.”

“I’m sure she has a good reason,” Lenore said. Orianne was one of the women who had been by her side the longest, the daughter of a minor noble house whose parents had decided that the best thing to do was to send her to serve beside a princess. Zia was the same, but had only been with Lenore a few months. Orianne would be the one Lenore trusted with most of the details.

“I’m sure she does,” Zia agreed, because Lenore refused to allow her maids to backbite or try to play politics within her circle. She dismissed those who did not help one another as well as her.

They kept going with the preparations, and even with most of it in place, it still seemed that there was a mountain of things to do. They would need wagons for the journey and drivers, sufficient clothes for all weather and an idea of the concerns of each village and region so that Lenore would not appear ignorant of them as she rode through. Then for the wedding itself, there were still issues with the precedence of the seating, and the exact details of the feast, the choice of the entertainers’ songs, and—

“Your highness!”

Lenore turned at the sound of Orianne’s voice. The maid was approaching with another woman beside her, and this one wasn’t dressed for the royal court. Oh, her clothes were expensive enough, almost on par with Orianne’s, but there was something about the cut and the style that spoke of lasciviousness and sensuality in a way that Lenore would never have permitted among those around her.

The woman herself was older than Lenore, perhaps thirty, with jet-black hair curling past her shoulders and a rouge-tinged smile that seemed to be mocking the world. She offered a curtsey before Lenore, but even the way she did that was a far cry from the innocent elegance of the court.

“Orianne?” Lenore said. “Who is this?”

“Your highness,” her maid said, “this is someone to whom I sometimes go for information.”

“Meredith, mistress of the House of Sighs,” the woman said, straightening up and not waiting to be introduced.

Lenore’s breath caught at that. “You’ve brought a… a whore into my chambers?”

A flicker of irritation crossed the new woman’s features. “It is strange that we are a House as old as the scholars or the weapon smiths, or the players or merchants or the builders, and yet people talk of us with such shame. Still, I am used to it, and it is shame that I have come to talk to you about, Princess.”

“I have nothing that I need to be ashamed of,” Lenore said.

“That is true,” Meredith replied, “but perhaps there are things that you need to be protected from.”

“I don’t know what you have in mind, but—”

“Please hear her out, Lenore,” Orianne said. “You might not approve of Meredith, but she has given me plenty of good information before now, and what she’s come to me with… well, you need to hear it.”

That was enough to make Lenore pause. She knew Orianne would only have her interests at heart, and she’d heard that the House of Sighs was sometimes a place where people said things they shouldn’t. As much as Lenore wanted the older woman out of her presence, she knew she should listen.

“Wine?” she said, and one of her maids brought out a glass. Meredith took it and sipped it.

“From the vineyards of Helast in the south,” she said. “Not bad.”

“You know about wine?” Lenore said.

“About all the luxuries and pleasures,” Meredith replied. “But that is not what you want to hear from me, is it?”

“What is it you’ve come to tell me?” Lenore asked. “And what do you want in return? Coin?”

“Ordinarily, it would be coin,” Meredith said. “I can hardly be ashamed about asking for that. Today though… consider it a wedding present.”

Lenore didn’t trust that. A woman like this wouldn’t do anything unless there was a payoff for her.

“What do you have to tell me?” she repeated.

Meredith smiled in a way that said she knew the effect she was having. “Simply this: your pristine, loving, faithful husband-to-be? He was in my establishment last night, surrounded by beautiful girls… and boys.”

Lenore froze.

“In that, he was rather loose-lipped,” Meredith said. “He spoke about you, dear, about how he wished he didn’t need to marry you, but that his father was insisting, for the connection to royal blood. Apparently, they’ve argued about it.”

Lenore shook her head. “No.”

“Yes,” Meredith said. “Of course, hearing the truth can often be a shock, but—”

“No,” Lenore snapped, her body rigid with tension. “No, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I will not hear these lies!”

Meredith shrugged and set down her wine glass. “Believe what you want. I have done my part in this. I’m sure you’ll see the truth in time.”

Lenore went to slap her, her anger getting the better of her, but Meredith caught the blow.

“One of your family has done quite enough of that already. It’s part of why I’m here. Now, I’ll take my leave. Good luck, your highness.”

She turned and walked out, leaving Lenore there not knowing what to think, or do, or say. She turned her attention to Orianne, who was still standing there as if she might comfort Lenore, but Lenore wanted no part of it.

“Get out,” she said to her former friend.

“Lenore…”

“That’s ‘your highness,’” Lenore said, feeling the frost in her voice. “You bring lies like this to me, and you expect me to be happy?”