Lord of the Fading Lands
Page 5
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Lauriana flashed her eldest daughter a devilish grin. "And won't that just put Madam Rich and Snooty Minset's knickers in a twist?”
"Mama!" Ellie gasped, giving her mother a shocked look.
Her mother—definitely not her staid and sensible self— laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, that was evil. Just evil." Ellie couldn't help laughing herself. It was so unlike her calm, unflappable mother to say something nasty, even about the social-climbing Madam Minset, the banker's wife. Though if ever a woman deserved to have something nasty said about her, Madam Minset did—and that went double for her daughter Kelissande.
"But, Mama, why is the Feyreisen coming to Celieria?”
Lauriana shrugged. "No one knows, but it's sure to be a spectacle. And I promised Lillis you would take her and Lorelle to see the Feyreisen" Ellie stared in surprise, and her mother blushed a little. "I know what you're thinking, and this doesn't mean I approve of Fey sorcerers. I don't. Not in the least. But the Bright Lord did select Rain Tairen Soul as the vehicle through which He has delivered this latest blessing upon our family. I wouldn't want Him to think us ungrateful. You will take the girls, won't you?”
Ellie glanced at Lorelle, who was now sporting a grin as large as a dairy cow, and had to laugh. "Of course I will," she agreed. The twins shrieked with happiness and danced about the kitchen.
No matter how dreadful her nightmares, Ellie would never have missed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the one and only Rain Tairen Soul. He was living history, the Fey who'd once in a fit of grief-induced madness almost destroyed the world.
How many ballads had been written about that terrible day? How many plays? Celieria's Museum of Arts held no less than twenty enormous oil paintings that commemorated the entire series of events, masterpieces painted by Celieria's greatest artists over the past thousand years. Ellie couldn't count the number of times she'd stood in front of Fabrizio Chelan's immortal Death of the Beloved and wept at the unspeakable anguish the great master had depicted on the face of Rain Tairen Soul as he held Lady Sariel in her death swoon and cried out to the heavens.
To see Rain Tairen Soul in the flesh. It was more than she'd ever dreamed possible. She wagged a finger at the twins. "You two had best plan to go to bed early. We leave at the break of dawn, so we can be sure to find a place with a good view”
Her mother shook her head. "You and your love of the Fey." But for once, she didn't add her usual lecture about the evils of magic and the danger of temptations that wore a pretty face.
Though Ellie shared her mother's fear of magic, all things Fey had fascinated her since she was a small child. "That doesn't mean I'm any less excited about your news, Mama." She reached out to grasp her mother's hands. "Indeed, I want you to tell me everything. What, exactly, did Lady Zillina say? Don't leave out a single detail.”
Lauriana pulled up a stool and related the whole story, including the ultimate pleasure of having Stella Morin, the neighborhood's biggest gossip, witness the entire event. She'd come into the shop to tell Lauriana that Donatella Brodson, the butcher's youngest daughter, was officially contracted to wed the third son of a wealthy silk merchant.
"Oh—" Lauriana snapped her fingers. "That reminds me. Den is coming for dinner tonight.”
"Den?" Ellie repeated with dismay. Den Brodson, the butcher's son, was a stuffed pork roast of a young man. And ever since his first wife had died in childbirth six months ago, he'd been following Ellie around like a starving hound on the trail of a juicy steak. He'd made a habit of catching her in dark corners, standing so close she could smell the reek of onions and bacon on him, and looking too intently down the neckline of her dresses as if he could see straight through the fabric to the soft curves beneath. His thick fingers were ever clutching at her arm, as if he had some right to her. She shuddered with revulsion. She'd never liked him much, even as a child. Now he made her skin crawl.
Beside her the twins rolled their eyes and clutched at their throats, making gagging noises. They didn't like Den either.
"Mmm." Lauriana paid no notice to the rolling eyes and gagging faces, but she did shoo the twins out of the kitchen. "Go play in your room, girls." Then, to Ellie, "Wear your green dress, kit. It makes you look rather pretty.”
"Why would I want to look pretty for Den?”
A stern hazel gaze pinned her in place. The laughing, flighty Mama was gone. Practical, no-nonsense Mama was back. "You're twenty-four, Ellysetta. That's long past time to be making a good match and starting your own family. Look at your friends. All of them married for years, with at least one child walking and another on the way.”
"Kelissande's not wed," Ellie reminded her mother.
"Yes, but Kelissande's not lacking for offers." The stern look in Lauriana's eyes remained the same, but her voice softened. "She's got beauty, girl, and wealth. You don't.”
Ellie ducked her head to hide the glimmer of tears that sprang to her eyes. She knew she was no beauty. She'd seen her reflection often enough to understand that. And Kelissande Minset had always been happy to point out her shortcomings in case she missed them.
"Even though you've got a fine, kind heart," Lauriana continued, "and a strong back to make any man a treasured helpmate, young lads and their parents don't look for those blessings first. The lads want beauty. The parents want wealth. The queen's commission will probably be enough to bring Den's family up to scratch, but you don't have the time to wait for Papa to make a fortune so you can take your pick of men." Unspoken was the common knowledge that if a girl was not wed by twenty-five, she was obviously defective in some way. Spinsters were to be pitied—and watched carefully lest the hand of evil that had blackened their futures laid its shadow over those around them.
"Mama!" Ellie gasped, giving her mother a shocked look.
Her mother—definitely not her staid and sensible self— laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, that was evil. Just evil." Ellie couldn't help laughing herself. It was so unlike her calm, unflappable mother to say something nasty, even about the social-climbing Madam Minset, the banker's wife. Though if ever a woman deserved to have something nasty said about her, Madam Minset did—and that went double for her daughter Kelissande.
"But, Mama, why is the Feyreisen coming to Celieria?”
Lauriana shrugged. "No one knows, but it's sure to be a spectacle. And I promised Lillis you would take her and Lorelle to see the Feyreisen" Ellie stared in surprise, and her mother blushed a little. "I know what you're thinking, and this doesn't mean I approve of Fey sorcerers. I don't. Not in the least. But the Bright Lord did select Rain Tairen Soul as the vehicle through which He has delivered this latest blessing upon our family. I wouldn't want Him to think us ungrateful. You will take the girls, won't you?”
Ellie glanced at Lorelle, who was now sporting a grin as large as a dairy cow, and had to laugh. "Of course I will," she agreed. The twins shrieked with happiness and danced about the kitchen.
No matter how dreadful her nightmares, Ellie would never have missed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the one and only Rain Tairen Soul. He was living history, the Fey who'd once in a fit of grief-induced madness almost destroyed the world.
How many ballads had been written about that terrible day? How many plays? Celieria's Museum of Arts held no less than twenty enormous oil paintings that commemorated the entire series of events, masterpieces painted by Celieria's greatest artists over the past thousand years. Ellie couldn't count the number of times she'd stood in front of Fabrizio Chelan's immortal Death of the Beloved and wept at the unspeakable anguish the great master had depicted on the face of Rain Tairen Soul as he held Lady Sariel in her death swoon and cried out to the heavens.
To see Rain Tairen Soul in the flesh. It was more than she'd ever dreamed possible. She wagged a finger at the twins. "You two had best plan to go to bed early. We leave at the break of dawn, so we can be sure to find a place with a good view”
Her mother shook her head. "You and your love of the Fey." But for once, she didn't add her usual lecture about the evils of magic and the danger of temptations that wore a pretty face.
Though Ellie shared her mother's fear of magic, all things Fey had fascinated her since she was a small child. "That doesn't mean I'm any less excited about your news, Mama." She reached out to grasp her mother's hands. "Indeed, I want you to tell me everything. What, exactly, did Lady Zillina say? Don't leave out a single detail.”
Lauriana pulled up a stool and related the whole story, including the ultimate pleasure of having Stella Morin, the neighborhood's biggest gossip, witness the entire event. She'd come into the shop to tell Lauriana that Donatella Brodson, the butcher's youngest daughter, was officially contracted to wed the third son of a wealthy silk merchant.
"Oh—" Lauriana snapped her fingers. "That reminds me. Den is coming for dinner tonight.”
"Den?" Ellie repeated with dismay. Den Brodson, the butcher's son, was a stuffed pork roast of a young man. And ever since his first wife had died in childbirth six months ago, he'd been following Ellie around like a starving hound on the trail of a juicy steak. He'd made a habit of catching her in dark corners, standing so close she could smell the reek of onions and bacon on him, and looking too intently down the neckline of her dresses as if he could see straight through the fabric to the soft curves beneath. His thick fingers were ever clutching at her arm, as if he had some right to her. She shuddered with revulsion. She'd never liked him much, even as a child. Now he made her skin crawl.
Beside her the twins rolled their eyes and clutched at their throats, making gagging noises. They didn't like Den either.
"Mmm." Lauriana paid no notice to the rolling eyes and gagging faces, but she did shoo the twins out of the kitchen. "Go play in your room, girls." Then, to Ellie, "Wear your green dress, kit. It makes you look rather pretty.”
"Why would I want to look pretty for Den?”
A stern hazel gaze pinned her in place. The laughing, flighty Mama was gone. Practical, no-nonsense Mama was back. "You're twenty-four, Ellysetta. That's long past time to be making a good match and starting your own family. Look at your friends. All of them married for years, with at least one child walking and another on the way.”
"Kelissande's not wed," Ellie reminded her mother.
"Yes, but Kelissande's not lacking for offers." The stern look in Lauriana's eyes remained the same, but her voice softened. "She's got beauty, girl, and wealth. You don't.”
Ellie ducked her head to hide the glimmer of tears that sprang to her eyes. She knew she was no beauty. She'd seen her reflection often enough to understand that. And Kelissande Minset had always been happy to point out her shortcomings in case she missed them.
"Even though you've got a fine, kind heart," Lauriana continued, "and a strong back to make any man a treasured helpmate, young lads and their parents don't look for those blessings first. The lads want beauty. The parents want wealth. The queen's commission will probably be enough to bring Den's family up to scratch, but you don't have the time to wait for Papa to make a fortune so you can take your pick of men." Unspoken was the common knowledge that if a girl was not wed by twenty-five, she was obviously defective in some way. Spinsters were to be pitied—and watched carefully lest the hand of evil that had blackened their futures laid its shadow over those around them.
