Stars and Soil, page 11
She is gorgeous. A small button nose, sharp jaw, but tempered with soft cheeks and large eyes, all on a beautiful heart-shaped face. She is standing in a corner with Conlaoch Byrne, Earl of Berah, and his son, Lord Tynen. But when the prince is announced, she turns around; her loose, dark auburn hair shining as it catches the light from the candles.
“Your Highness, it is good to see you so well.” Lord Berach sweeps his hands out in the deepest of bows.
“I have not seen you at court recently, Lord Berach.”
“No, Your Grace. I’ve been busy on my estates.” There is a slight quiver in his voice, and he looks to his left for a second to the beautiful woman who shares the same deep emerald eyes as the two Byrne men.
“Ah, and who is this?”
“This is my daughter, Lady Arlina.”
“You have kept such a rose hidden away from court?” The prince kisses the top of her hand.
In the span of a second, coins change hands, and previously placed bets are altered. Caitlin feels the eyes of everyone in the room lingering on her and then flicking to Lady Arlina. She is of noble birth; she hears some whisper. She is far prettier; Caitlin was always just an eccentric distraction, anyway, some mutter. Others respond; besides, he could not marry a widow. She hears mumbles of derision and scorn; I am surprised he has stayed with her so long; that a common girl could hold him for this long, good riddance to her, she sought a seat above her station.
They look for worry in her face, they are looking for fear, for jealousy. But Caitlin just looks between the man who claimed to love her above all others and the woman he will supplant her with. All she can think, though, is that she will be free from this charade, finally.
But then Lady Arlina looks at Caitlin directly. This new beauty at court, the woman whose father wants to use her as a pawn, this beautiful woman who the whole court is now hoping will supplant Caitlin, this beautiful woman who has a controlling and haughty brother, a brother who pushed her into the path of the prince, to see her take Caitlin’s place, this beautiful woman looks at her and smiles. And behind those eyes, Caitlin sees the same resignation that lives in her own heart. The same acquiescence to fate, to the duty of parental interests. Lady Arlina knows what will come and is just as resentful of it.
“Lady Arlina.” Caitlin knows that she will not be introduced formally to her, so she takes it upon herself to do so. She must. Something is driving her to spend even a second more in the presence of this woman. “Do you play cards? The princesses and I have been looking for someone to join us as a fourth while their ladies-in-waiting are away from court.”
“Ah, my beautiful lady.” The prince put his arm around Caitlin, not an act of love but a show of possession. “You are always looking for new friends. One of your many charms. Yes, please, join the games with us tonight, Lady Arlina. I cannot deny my beautiful lady a new friend.”
And all bets are off again.
“We don’t know how many got away. We have several safe houses throughout the country; it might take a while for them to send us word safely. It would be wise for them to stay there for several more weeks. But at this point, we assume those who have not reported in are dead.” Diar had shown up unexpectedly after dinner. Caitlin had not heard from him since the fire. She had tried to contact him, but he either wasn’t getting her messages or ignoring them. For all that he is her best friend, she is irritated by his propensity for moods and disappearing acts.
“Any other news?” Caitlin sips at the lukewarm tea; it does little to ward off the bitter cold that permeates her home, but she does not want to interrupt the conversation by making more.
“Those whom I have spoken to are going to ground, too. I assume they have also passed along messages, warning people to stay low.” He cleans his glasses on his shirt and slumps back in his chair.
“Does staying low mean doing less charity work? Wouldn’t that be conspicuous if suddenly that stopped?”
“Some people are on both sides of that argument. I think some of them will continue it.” He puts his glasses back on and runs his hands through his hair.
“That argument?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Never mind that for right now.”
“Is there word on finding a new headquarters?”
“A new one? What do you mean?”
“Well, the one that just burned…”
“Oh,” he says, face turning scarlet. “That wasn’t our headquarters. That was a test for you.”
“What?”
“I trust you, Caitlin. But many others don’t. If that place went up in smoke, or if guards showed up at any of the coordinates spouted off at the end of the meeting, well. We would know where it came from. And so, many believe it was you.”
“I can’t believe this!” She slams her mug on the table so hard that it shakes, the spoon rattling in the sugar bowl. “Is that why it’s taken you so long to come to see me?”
“I don’t want the royals or the Front thinking you’re playing spy for the other side.”
“And so, you steer clear of me for my protection, and I am assuming everyone else for suspicion.”
“Yes, and no. Most everyone is staying clear of each other. It’s not personal, but some suspect you.”
With a huff, she takes her teacup to the kitchen. She leans against the counter, arms crossed, waiting for the water to boil. She can’t go back in there just yet. A test? And he stopped talking to her because a few people thought she failed it? She burns her hand, grabbing the kettle without a mitt, cursing under her breath.
Diar hangs his head, eyes fixed on the floor, as she walks back in. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t talk to me for weeks. Didn’t even bother to send a message that you were alright. Friends talk to each other. Friends discuss things, friends are open and honest with each other. What have you been?”
“Caitlin, you don’t understand,” he says, leaning forward, reaching for her hands.
“Then tell me!” She jolts back. “Then talk to me! Do you believe me so unable to think for myself?”
“There’s so much you don’t know.”
“Then tell me!”
He looks down at his own mug of cold tea and then back up at her. “Fine. You’re right.”
“Promise me.”
“I will.”
“Good. Now, what is this about people suspecting me as a spy?”
“You must know that your volunteer work and your affiliation with the prince has been noted. And that has not stayed just in the neighborhoods you visit.”
“I had not realized that anyone had made a connection.”
“It has not gone unnoticed by the royals, either. Has anyone mentioned it?”
“Well, Princess Daya had said we could all do some charity together, bringing their attendants. Make it some sort of event, though I don’t know if she wanted to do it as something advertised in advance.”
“The king and prince would certainly want it to be such, prove they are as charitable as they want people to think, charitable enough that commoners are whining over nothing.”
“I don’t think that is what the princesses are trying to do.” She frowns.
“They are royals,” he says with a shrug.
“They are wonderful people; they’ve been very kind to me.” Far kinder than anyone else at court has been.
“Royals still uphold a power structure, one that favors them over us.”
“I like them, maybe…” She cleans dirt out from under her fingernails. “Maybe I could get them to realize…”
“Too dangerous right now. Although it has been mentioned by some that you could be our spy.”
“Bring you information from the palace? I rarely have access to anything. And I’m trying to extricate myself from that viper’s den, not further ingratiate myself. For what purpose? What would you need a spy for?”
“For one, I’m not asking you to. Others have brought it up. And second, we still don’t know how they found us or how much they know.”
“It was Sir Liam, the factory owner.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“He was bragging about it. He has been enraged about his workers asking for safety measures.”
“See, this is why others would ask you to spy.”
“Do you want me to?”
“It’s your choice, only yours.”
“So, there are those that both suspect me of selling out a volunteer organization to the royals but also want me to spy? Spy for what? There’s something more going on to this. This is more than protests and volunteering, isn’t it?”
“I want to tell you, but I must talk to Sharidan and Valen first. This is a decision above my head.”
“I am just confused why they would torch an entire neighborhood over some protests and charity work. Sure, some demands are radical, but there is nothing illegal happening. So why?”
“I’ll talk to Sharidan and… No more talk of this, for now? Please? Let’s get drunk and take a walk down to the harbor.”
“That sounds nice, you know. I haven’t talked to someone who has only half his head up his ass in a while.”
“I have never been to the palace before,” Lady Arlina says, sitting at the cherry round table in the corner of the princess’ rooms. “The weather in Berach is not particularly enjoyable, but I hear it is often sunny in Eoi.” She looks at the other women, her eyebrows raised. Prince Cian had wanted to go on a hunt again, but the weather had been too poor, and then his father had requested his presence for some matter or another. Princess Elizabeth had asked Caitlin if she wanted to join them for cards; her attendants were still away, and she and Eleanor required company. They had bumped into Lady Arlina as they left the Great Hall and invited her, too.
“I can say that it is nicer here than in Whick.” She sits next to Lady Arlina, and the crackling of the fire on her back is not the only reason she suddenly feels so warm.
“Yes, you are a merchant’s daughter! It must be so nice to live close to the sea,” Lady Arlina says, smiling wide.
“I can take you some time if you would like,” Caitlin says, her breath hitching.
“I would love that!” Lady Arlina says, her round eyes widening as she moves her chair closer to Caitlin’s. “Do you go on the ships often?”
“Not as frequently as you would expect,” she says, dealing out the cards. “We usually play for keeps, by the way.”
“And I usually win.” Princess Eleanor scoops up her hand with a flourish.
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“Daya is a sore loser.” Princess Eleanor sets her cards down and removes her shawl. “So sometimes I let her win.”
“You only ever win when Mistress Peddigree is your partner.” Princess Daya places her cards face down and pulls the plate of sweets towards her, picking out the caramel squares and leaving the rest.
“Daya, dearest. Let’s see if we can win together.”
“So that makes Lady Arlina my partner?” Caitlin says, accepting the glass of wine from the maid and savoring the tannins as she sips.
“Well, then, I feel pretty lucky tonight,” Lady Arlina says, flipping through her cards. “I promise not to disappoint you.”
“I have never considered myself lucky, but if others believe so, who am I to dispute?”
“Why have you not come to court before?” Princess Eleanor sorts her cards. “If you do not mind my asking.”
“My father kept me isolated. I grew up at the Temple of Aife. He has only just realized I am not ten years old anymore.”
“What were you doing at the Temple of Aife? Call,” Princess Eleanor says, smirking at Princess Daya.
“Studying, mostly.”
“Double. Oh? What were you studying?” Princess Daya asks, her eyebrow raised over her spread of cards.
“Law, primarily.”
“Which Temple? The one in Eoi?” Caitlin mulls over her next card before placing the queen of hearts on the table. “Royal flush.”
Princess Eleanor throws down her own hand and slumps back in her chair. Princess Daya lays out a spread of spades.
“We won.” Lady Arlina smiles. Princess Daya picks up the cards with a huff.
“If we had been playing just the two of us, you know I would have won.” Princess Daya scowls at her wife.
Princess Eleanor shrugs. “Of course, sweetie.”
“I was at the Temple in Laocre,” Lady Arlina says, passing the cards at the center of the table to Caitlin, her finger brushing Caitlin’s hand.
“Why law?” Caitlin shuffles the deck, ignoring the tingle on her palm.
“Once, I had hoped to be an adviser or lawyer.”
“That reminds me! Would you please answer a question I have been wondering about my whole life? The Laocre temple has vast lands, and they keep rather secretive about that. If all the teach is law, why do they need so much land?” Princess Daya says, counting the rest of her dael as Caitlin deals out the cards again.
“I could not say,” Lady Arlina says. “Truly, a mystery.”
“It is rather interesting; even the king’s advisers could not hope for such an extensive and exhaustive education in law. How laws have changed, theories of law, foreign law, international law. With Aife being both a goddess of war and law, makes sense, for war is often the creator of law,” Princess Eleanor says.
Lady Arlina inspects her cards, rearranging them in her hand, not concerned with commenting further.
“Why did you leave? Was it your father?” Caitlin glances at her cards, far too enthralled with Lady Arlina’s tale to give it any actual thought. “Are you here to find a suitor?”
“Of course not!”
“That is a shame. I am sure you will have at least a dozen marriage proposals by the end of the week.” Princess Eleanor glances at Caitlin. “The court will be sullen and miserable for months if you snub everyone.”
The prince’s personal secretary is waiting for her at the door when she returns late in the evening from a business meeting with wool sellers from the Galiven region of Garcelon, sellers who had been all too happy to provide her with the finely dyed wool cloak she now pulls more tightly around her. Winter is just a few weeks away, and these Garcelonian merchants could not have picked a better time to arrive stocked with their finest fibers. “I have a letter and a gift from the prince,” is all that he says as he hands over the items. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly waiting for a response, and she waves him into her home. It would not be polite to let the man stand outside in such frigid weather.
My dearest Lady Caitlin,
It grieves my heart every moment we are apart; I am struck with such a heavy melancholy. That such a bond could exist defies all logic. I cannot bear it any longer. I extend an invitation to your most beautiful self and your ever-diligent fathers, Sir Teige and Sir Rían Peddigree. A dress should accompany this message. Pray, do accept this invitation. It is most urgent.
Most Humbly Yours,
Cian
He does not use his title, and even though she does not hold a title that would afford her “Lady,” he uses it nonetheless. His saccharine letter offends her: the writing juvenile.
The letter set aside; she sets the box on a desk and opens it. The dress, like his letter, is overstated, past grand and into gaudy. Accompanying it are a pair of equally offensive shoes and a circlet.
“Will you be in attendance tonight, Lady Caitlin? And Sir Teige and Sir Rían?” The secretary says. If he is nervous, he does not show it, maintaining a neutral face and even tone despite this being a most awkward situation. The use of “lady” feels like sandpaper in her ears, and her fathers have never been granted any title, either. Prince Cian has been calling her ‘lady’ for some time, but his staff is using it, too? And the same courtesy extended to her fathers?
She pulls the dress into her chest and beams. “How could I ever say anything except ‘yes’?”
“Very well, Lady Caitlin. I shall inform his Highness.” He doffs his hat and leaves.
She marches upstairs to her living quarters, the offending garments bunched in her arms. Tossing them onto the floor, she stomps to her kitchen and opens a bottle of wine, drinking directly from it.
“Caitlin? Where are you? Heavens, what are you doing?” Da asks as he and Pa walk in only a few moments later. “Did the meeting not go well?”
“It went well enough; the deal is as good as sealed. That,” she says, pointing toward her living room, “that thing on the floor in there is altogether another sort of deal. One that I want nothing to do with anymore. I’m done. I’m done!”
Da picks up the items off of the floor and hands the letter to Pa, crinkling his nose as he holds out the dress in front of him.
“Tonight? All of us?” Pa says, running his hand through his ash-black hair.
“I am supposed to wear that dress this evening. I would rather drown than wear it, let alone attend whatever this event is.”
“You cannot cancel on the prince,” Pa says.
“I know, I know, it would be bad for business,” she says, flinging her arms in the air and spilling some of the wine.
“No, Caitlin. It has nothing to do with the business.”
“Don’t say that. Everything is business with you. That’s all you care about. And that’s all you want me to care about.” She takes a large gulp of wine, not caring as some dribbles down her chin.
“That is not true. Please, do not insult us by putting words in our mouths. If this were an invitation from a business partner and you wanted to cancel, even if it were the most important deal we have ever been offered, we would not stop you from canceling.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing the lie for what it is. “I don’t want to wear that dress.”
“I do not blame you, dear,” Da says, holding it at arm’s length. “The materials hardly complement each other, and what is this frill supposed to be adding? Beads and embroidery? Who made this atrocity?”
“Someone that the prince hired, and I am not going to ask any more than that,” she says. Dizzy, she collapses into a chair.
“Well, there is no getting out of attending this event, but I think I can find a way for you to wear the dress while not having to wear it,” Da says, setting it down on the dining table. “Where do you keep your sewing supplies?”
