Lord of the Fading Lands
Page 83
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"Ellysetta" The sudden thread of steel in his voice made her halt and look back. His expression was carved stone. The pupils of his still-glowing eyes had lengthened to slits, "I meant what I said. I have no wish to change you. All this"— he flung out his hand at the mess of fabrics and pattern books still strewn around the main room—"was Marissya and your mother's idea, to help you feel more at ease among Dorian's nobles. For myself, I'd proudly take you as you are. Just say the word, and so it will be.”
Her eyes widened. He would do that. He'd take her before the court dressed as a peasant and expect them to treat her like a queen.
And be furious when they didn't.
"I thought the whole purpose of this Kingsday's dinner was to win the favor of the lords so they would vote to keep the Eld border closed," she said.
"And so it is, but any Celierian worthy of Fey regard will appreciate the honor of your presence no matter what your garb.”
Her brows almost disappeared into her hairline. "Oh, truly? You know as well as I do that I don't dare appear before the court dressed in anything even remotely resembling this." She waved at her simple skirts and thick-soled boots. "They'd be insulted beyond words, and you'd lose all hope of winning their support.”
She wasn't sure she believed the Mages had reconstituted their power. The dahl'reisen murdering innocent villagers up and down the borders seemed a greater and more obvious threat than anything in Eld. But she knew Rain believed Eld was the true menace. And he needed the support of Celieria's aristocracy to ensure that his fears did not come to pass. He was already starting off at a disadvantage. No noble—especially Queen Annoura—would easily forgive him for raising a woodcarver's daughter to the rank of queen.
Rain couldn't dispute her reasoning, though the flush of angry color beneath his pale skin said he wanted to. "Be that as it may," he snapped, "we're not talking about the court right now. We're talking about a servant of the court, the queen's Master of Graces. I assure you I don't need his vote, Ellysetta, and that means you have no cause to put yourself out on his behalf.”
She put her hands on her hips. "No cause except common courtesy and care for my own pride. Master Fellows may look at me and see a peasant, but at least he'll see a tidy one. And thank you so much for making me admit to such conceit.”
Rain's brow creased in a bewildered look, as if he could not understand how the conversation had ended here, with her glaring at him for embarrassing her. He shook his head and pinched the ridge between his eyes. "It's been too long since I've been a mate. I had forgotten the two rules.”
"The two rules?" she echoed.
"Aiyah. Sariel taught me." He held up his index finger. "Rule one: in any dispute between mates, the male is always to blame, even when he is clearly blameless. Rule two"—his middle finger joined the first—"whenever in doubt, refer to rule one.”
The laugh popped out before she could halt it.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek in a light caress. "Very well, shei'tani. Tidy yourself for this Master of Graces if that will put you at ease. Have the seamstresses provided you with a court gown yet?”
"No, I was just going to put on my green gown. The maestras haven't had time to finish anything finer." She gestured to the bolts of cloth stacked against one wall. "I'm still picking patterns and fabric.”
He glanced over at the bolts she'd indicated. "I like that silk." He pointed to a bolt of golden yellow watered silk. "The color would become you." His brows drew together in a frown of concentration. A surge of powerful magic burst from his hands. Half the bolt of cloth disappeared. "There," he said when the shining green Earth threads faded. "You have a dress now, in your room upstairs. And don't bother with your hair. Kieran will fix it for you when you come back downstairs.”
She shook her head. Now she was the one bewildered. "You just finished arguing with me about how I should not change myself for members of the court.”
"That was before you expressed your fear of being shamed. As your mate, it is my duty to protect you in all ways. For the pride of the nobles, I care nothing. For yours, I do." He shrugged. "Go, shei'tani, don these garments you think you need. We Fey will tidy your home and wait for this Master of Graces.”
She went. Upstairs in her room, laid neatly across her narrow bed, lay an exquisite gown of saffron silk. She tried it on, not surprised to find it a perfect fit. But as she regarded her stylish reflection in the long mirror inside her wardrobe, her pleased smile faded. Despite her angry claims this morning that she was the same person she'd always been and always would be, Ellysetta knew it wasn't true. She'd already begun to change, and she would have to change still more. Fast. Because when he faced the nobles this Kingsday evening, Rain Tairen Soul would need a queen by his side, not some naive, graceless gawk of a girl.
Precisely as the city clock tower rang fourteen bells, Master Gaspare Fellows, the queen's Master of Graces, arrived at the Baristani home. He stepped across the threshold, threw back the edges of his satin-lined demi-cape, and executed a perfect court bow before Ellysetta.
"Ah, My Lady Feyreisa, a pleasure to meet you." He straightened and cast a swift, appraising, hazel gaze around the interior of her family's home. Ellie was glad the Fey had tidied up, because she had a feeling the Master would describe everything he saw in the minutest detail once he returned to court.
Her eyes widened. He would do that. He'd take her before the court dressed as a peasant and expect them to treat her like a queen.
And be furious when they didn't.
"I thought the whole purpose of this Kingsday's dinner was to win the favor of the lords so they would vote to keep the Eld border closed," she said.
"And so it is, but any Celierian worthy of Fey regard will appreciate the honor of your presence no matter what your garb.”
Her brows almost disappeared into her hairline. "Oh, truly? You know as well as I do that I don't dare appear before the court dressed in anything even remotely resembling this." She waved at her simple skirts and thick-soled boots. "They'd be insulted beyond words, and you'd lose all hope of winning their support.”
She wasn't sure she believed the Mages had reconstituted their power. The dahl'reisen murdering innocent villagers up and down the borders seemed a greater and more obvious threat than anything in Eld. But she knew Rain believed Eld was the true menace. And he needed the support of Celieria's aristocracy to ensure that his fears did not come to pass. He was already starting off at a disadvantage. No noble—especially Queen Annoura—would easily forgive him for raising a woodcarver's daughter to the rank of queen.
Rain couldn't dispute her reasoning, though the flush of angry color beneath his pale skin said he wanted to. "Be that as it may," he snapped, "we're not talking about the court right now. We're talking about a servant of the court, the queen's Master of Graces. I assure you I don't need his vote, Ellysetta, and that means you have no cause to put yourself out on his behalf.”
She put her hands on her hips. "No cause except common courtesy and care for my own pride. Master Fellows may look at me and see a peasant, but at least he'll see a tidy one. And thank you so much for making me admit to such conceit.”
Rain's brow creased in a bewildered look, as if he could not understand how the conversation had ended here, with her glaring at him for embarrassing her. He shook his head and pinched the ridge between his eyes. "It's been too long since I've been a mate. I had forgotten the two rules.”
"The two rules?" she echoed.
"Aiyah. Sariel taught me." He held up his index finger. "Rule one: in any dispute between mates, the male is always to blame, even when he is clearly blameless. Rule two"—his middle finger joined the first—"whenever in doubt, refer to rule one.”
The laugh popped out before she could halt it.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek in a light caress. "Very well, shei'tani. Tidy yourself for this Master of Graces if that will put you at ease. Have the seamstresses provided you with a court gown yet?”
"No, I was just going to put on my green gown. The maestras haven't had time to finish anything finer." She gestured to the bolts of cloth stacked against one wall. "I'm still picking patterns and fabric.”
He glanced over at the bolts she'd indicated. "I like that silk." He pointed to a bolt of golden yellow watered silk. "The color would become you." His brows drew together in a frown of concentration. A surge of powerful magic burst from his hands. Half the bolt of cloth disappeared. "There," he said when the shining green Earth threads faded. "You have a dress now, in your room upstairs. And don't bother with your hair. Kieran will fix it for you when you come back downstairs.”
She shook her head. Now she was the one bewildered. "You just finished arguing with me about how I should not change myself for members of the court.”
"That was before you expressed your fear of being shamed. As your mate, it is my duty to protect you in all ways. For the pride of the nobles, I care nothing. For yours, I do." He shrugged. "Go, shei'tani, don these garments you think you need. We Fey will tidy your home and wait for this Master of Graces.”
She went. Upstairs in her room, laid neatly across her narrow bed, lay an exquisite gown of saffron silk. She tried it on, not surprised to find it a perfect fit. But as she regarded her stylish reflection in the long mirror inside her wardrobe, her pleased smile faded. Despite her angry claims this morning that she was the same person she'd always been and always would be, Ellysetta knew it wasn't true. She'd already begun to change, and she would have to change still more. Fast. Because when he faced the nobles this Kingsday evening, Rain Tairen Soul would need a queen by his side, not some naive, graceless gawk of a girl.
Precisely as the city clock tower rang fourteen bells, Master Gaspare Fellows, the queen's Master of Graces, arrived at the Baristani home. He stepped across the threshold, threw back the edges of his satin-lined demi-cape, and executed a perfect court bow before Ellysetta.
"Ah, My Lady Feyreisa, a pleasure to meet you." He straightened and cast a swift, appraising, hazel gaze around the interior of her family's home. Ellie was glad the Fey had tidied up, because she had a feeling the Master would describe everything he saw in the minutest detail once he returned to court.
