Traitor, page 7
Sir Colin shook his head. “Such a shame.”
A shame? I glanced at him, lips pursed.
“Not that he deserved a happy outcome, of course. No doubt he knew full well the risk he’d undertaken. But for any man to lose possession of his faculties in such a way . . .” He shrugged. “It must be a terrible way to go.”
“True. I’ve been haunted by the sight ever since.”
“Small wonder—a delicate creature such as yourself, subjected to the horrors of the dungeon.” He patted my arm. “You’re braver than most would give you credit for, princess.”
My laugh caught in my throat. It’d felt more like an addition to my long list of mistakes than an act of bravery.
“In fact, one could even say . . .” He let his words trail off, glancing behind us.
Sister Rochelle approached, the sharp breeze billowing her black dress. “Good afternoon, Princess Penelope. Sir Colin.”
“I—” For a moment, Sir Colin’s perpetual confidence wavered. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Sister Rochelle.” She adjusted her headpiece, offering no explanation.
“Ah. It’s a pleasure, Sister.” He dipped into a hasty bow.
“Indeed. And what brings you to Delunia, Sir Colin?”
He pivoted to face her. “I am a humble scholar. My studies mostly involve comparisons between the languages and cultures of Trellich and Delunia, though I’ve dabbled in other subjects such as farming practices, medicine, and art as well.”
“How interesting. And what conclusions have you drawn from such investigations?”
Sir Colin tugged at his jacket’s lapel. “No conclusions, merely observations. I’ve published a number of essays and used my findings to counsel merchants, fellow scholars, and even ambassadors.”
He glanced to me with a smile. “Although my energy is not what it once was, I still enjoy spending approximately half the year in each country. At this point, I’m not sure I could choose one over the other.”
“I hope to make Delunia my second home as well.”
Her tone seemed stiffer when addressing Sir Colin. Perhaps mystics interacted with few gentlemen. She turned to me, her steady smile giving no indication she recalled our last conversation’s abrupt end.
“You shall meet your fiancé within the next day or two, Princess Penelope. What an exciting time for a young lady.”
“I suppose, though also quite intimidating.”
Her soft gaze locked with mine. “Know the Luminate has set you on this path for a reason. His purposes will become clear over time.”
Far from the reassurance she meant to give, fear flared in my chest. Would He use my new engagement for retribution? To punish me? After the way I’d squandered my last opportunity, He could hardly be expected to direct my path toward any kind of reward.
Sir Colin cleared his throat. “It is Delunia’s great fortune to have you joining its royal family, princess. No doubt Prince Vander will feel the same way.”
If only the rest of the world could view me as favorably as Sir Colin.
Chapter 8
With a final lurch, the ship docked in the port. I stared, numb, as sailors bustled about, shouting commands to each other.
This was Delunia. My new . . . home.
The word didn’t fit as I glanced to shore, where hordes of people scurried and bumped and gestured. So much noise, so many faces. Not a single one familiar.
A tweak on my arm made me jump. “Quite a sight, isn’t it, m’lady?” Victoria’s expression held the promise of a new adventure. “So many colors, and I do like the sound o’ their language.”
If only I could be half so eager. “It’s a lot to take in.”
She turned to me. “Our trunks’re packed, and the captain said his men’ll take care o’ transferrin’ them from the ship to our carriage.”
“Thank you, Victoria.”
She bounced on her toes. “Which carriage do ye think is waitin’ for us?”
I scanned the row of horses, carriages, and wagons on the road above the docks. “It’s hard to say. I’m not sure who is meeting us.”
“I doubt the royal family made the journey, but what fun if yer fiancé is up there right now, watchin’ us disembark.”
Fun. Victoria was only one year my junior, but compared with her rosy outlook, I felt like a contrary old spinster. Anxiety twisted my stomach like the tightly woven ropes the sailors pulled to lower the sails. What if he was up there? My—fiancé.
The word had seemed peculiar enough applied to Prince Raphael, whom I’d at least met on several occasions. Now it referred to a complete stranger.
“What think you of your new domain, princess?” Sir Colin’s warm tone eased the tension in my shoulders. As always, he greeted me with a respectful bow.
“I find I don’t know quite what to think.”
“Understandable.” He pressed his lips together. “It will be an adjustment, to be sure. No doubt you’ll feel just as out of place as you have on this ship—a princess among coarse men and new surroundings—but only for a time. I believe you’ll come to appreciate this country just as much as I have.”
“I hope so.” The words escaped as little more than a whisper.
How could such a strange place, with different people, customs, and even speech, ever capture a heart that longed for Trellich? But Sir Colin shared my Trellan roots. If he’d adapted to Delunia, perhaps it wasn’t out of the question for me.
He cleared his throat. “It appears the men have secured the ship, and the landing ramp is down. Are you ladies ready to set foot on solid ground once more?”
“Yes.” That, at least, could be said in Delunia’s favor. No matter what the country, I was eager to be free of the ship’s endless rocking and swaying.
“Excellent. Then allow me to escort you.”
He held an arm out to me first, then the other to Victoria. She giggled as she accepted his gallant gesture.
I gladly placed my hand on his arm, grateful for his steadying presence. My grip tightened as we strode down the ramp. I fought the urge to close my eyes against the churning water below. The moment our feet landed on the sturdy wooden dock, I released the breath I’d been holding.
Whatever lay ahead, I was grateful to put the sea journey behind us.
Sister Rochelle appeared at my side in her usual ghostly manner. “Well, princess, this is where we part ways. At least for now.”
Did the woman’s footfalls never make a sound?
Sir Colin had bid us farewell to join the servant who’d met him, repeating his invitation to visit his home whenever I wished. Now I stood to the side of the dock, trying to avoid being knocked into the sea by sailors lugging heavy cartons and barrels.
“You’re not going to the royal city?” I asked.
The knowledge should’ve been a relief—perhaps she hadn’t been sent to Delunia to spy on me after all. But there would be so few familiar faces in this new place. One more would’ve brought some measure of comfort.
“I’m afraid not. I’m feeling called toward the south. There is much unrest in this country, so much poverty and hardship. I’d like to help where I can and share the Luminate’s light where people need it most.”
“Of course. I wish you a safe journey.” At least food and shelter would be provided at my destination. Who knew what kind of conditions she might be heading toward?
“And to you, Princess Penelope.” She pressed my hands and gave me one of those direct looks. As though she could see my every thought and feeling. “I wish you all possible happiness in your new home and upcoming marriage.”
I squirmed under her gaze. Beneath her words lurked the warning I sensed from everyone. Make it work this time, Penelope. Don’t let us all down again.
“Thank you.” I gently tugged my hands, but she held firm.
“Before you go, I have a parting gift.”
“Oh?” Curiosity rooted my feet to the ground. What could this woman possibly have that she thought I might want? I glanced to Victoria, but she’d wandered out of earshot to inspect an enormous fish brought in by a nearby fishing boat.
Sister Rochelle rummaged in a pouch tied to her belt, removing a thin chain. “The sisters gave this to me when I left. A token of the Luminate’s blessing and protection.” She uncurled her fingers, studying the gold pooled in her palm. “But in my prayers aboard the ship, visions of you in the Delunian palace consistently came to mind.”
I swallowed past a sudden boulder lodged in my throat. Mystic visions told the future and gave warnings, didn’t they? Was my time in Delunia destined to be a failure before I’d crossed ten yards into its borders? “Were the visions—bad?”
“It’s impossible to tell for certain.” The hand that still held mine tightened in a reassuring squeeze. “But whatever is to come, I believe the Luminate wants you to have this amulet.”
“I . . .” My hands fumbled to cup the necklace she deposited into them. The metal cooled my clammy skin.
A small pendant was attached to the chain. Grasping it between my fingers, I lifted it closer to my face. Soft light radiated from the clear stone at the center, almost as though it glowed of its own accord. The gold circle surrounding it was etched with a series of crosses and swirls.
Squinting, I read the words scrolled around the back: Love surrounds you. My love will protect you. I converted my snort to a semi-convincing cough.
Love had done anything but protect me.
Sister Rochelle watched me, her smile never wavering. “I know it’s simple compared with royal jewels, but I pray you will wear it always as a reminder of the Luminate’s love and blessing. Know that He will never leave you.”
Too late for that. I dipped into a brief curtsy as I slipped the long chain over my head. “I certainly—that is, it’s lovely. Thank you for your thoughtful gesture.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Do take care of yourself, Princess Penelope. I hope our paths will cross again someday.” She lowered into a curtsy of her own.
A shadow in her eyes whispered she knew something about our future paths. Something significant. I ached to ask, to receive some kind of reassurance that I should proceed into Delunia and not dash right back up the gangplank onto the ship reversing its course for Sandrin.
But she seemed to enjoy shrouding every statement in mystery. No doubt further conversation would only increase my anxiety rather than allay it.
“Thank you again, Sister Rochelle. I hope your endeavors meet with success.”
“With the Luminate at my side, I cannot fail.” With a wave, she shouldered her bag and set off into the bustle.
Another person walking out of my life to a destiny more secure than my own.
Victoria’s sharp inhale followed seconds after mine.
Using a staggering combination of pointing, hand gestures, and flirtatious smiles to various sailors to secure their help with translation, she’d found the carriage sent to transport us to the Delunian palace and ensured our luggage would follow closely behind.
Now, after a bumpy ride over dunes and around strange orange-red rock formations, we craned our necks to take in the sight at the top of the cliff face we’d been climbing.
The Delunian palace—Palati del Chrysos, as they called it—was the tallest structure I’d ever seen, stretching up, up, up toward the clouds. Gold lined every window, shining in contrast to the white stone. A pointed dome of vibrant blue topped each of its many towers, as though they’d collected the orbs from the sea sparkling in the distance.
“To think, this will soon be your palace.” Victoria grasped the carriage window with a dreamy sigh.
I reminded myself to blink as the view of the palace crowded out the rest of our surroundings. “It is quite grand.”
“Grand?” She flopped back on the seat. “It’s simply breathtaking. How opulent it must be on the inside!”
Opulent, perhaps, but nothing like home. I managed a nod.
“I can’t thank ye enough for bringing me along to continue in yer service, m’lady.” Victoria lowered her head into a respectful bow, attempting to contain her jittery legs.
“I’m grateful you’re here.” Her loyalty was far more than I deserved.
We bumped along in silence as the carriage wound up curving streets to the top of the cliff. We reached a thick wall of the same white stone as the palace. Our driver paused to speak to a guard, who peered into the window with a nod. He hauled the towering gate open, and we proceeded. Inside, shops and stands lined the streets.
I flinched against the assault of so many raised voices. Women in brightly colored wraps, some with flowers in their hair, called to one another, balancing baskets on their arms. Men in flowing shirts and loose pants spoke animatedly, gesturing wide with their arms.
Words everywhere, but not a single one I recognized.
I shrank farther into the carriage. What was I doing here? How could Papa have deceived himself into thinking this was a good idea?
Nearer the palace, we passed structures that must’ve been houses, despite their round shape and pointed roofs. Flowers so large they hardly seemed real bloomed in every window box, and laundry swayed in the breeze, hung from fences and wooden structures formed from pillars and crossbeams.
Did Sir Colin live somewhere nearby? The thought that my friend might be near at hand eased a bit of the invisible noose constricting my throat.
At every turn, the homes became grander. Wider, with multiple stories, the architecture bore a closer resemblance to the palace than to the circular structures. Even the streets were wider and better paved, the air hushed with formality compared with the earlier chaos. Presumably this was the neighborhood where the local aristocracy resided.
Releasing a breath, I sat a little straighter. Perhaps I might fit in with some of these people after all.
The carriage slowed to a stop in front of a regal staircase leading into the castle. Gilded doors shone above. My pulse’s tempo jumped with each of the horses’ final steps. This was it. I was about to meet the man I was supposed to marry. Swallowing, I pressed my moist palms against the starchy material of my skirt. Papa said he was gentle, right? And not too old?
I started as the driver pulled open my door.
He bowed low. “Your Highness.”
I took his offered hand and stepped down into the glaring sunshine. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. “Thank you.”
After helping Victoria down, he pushed the door shut once more. “We’ll make sure luggage finds your rooms. Jac takes you to emperor and empress where they await in throne room.”
He gestured up the stairs to where a guard with a tall hat and a formal red sash hurried to meet us.
I only managed a nod, looking between the two. The sea voyage had seemed to take an age, and even the carriage ride had passed slowly. Now my future hurtled toward me much faster than my mind could process.
Jac gave me a curt bow, his breathing labored. “Your Highness. My pleasure it is to welcome you to Delunia. Please, allow me to escort you inside.”
He glanced to Victoria, brows lowered.
“I thank you. This is my lady’s maid, and I would like her to accompany me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Another bow, and he retraced his steps up the steep staircase.
Victoria returned my glance with an excited smile, and we followed.
I struggled to match Jac’s brisk pace as we wound through halls and up more flights of stairs. Would I ever learn the layout of this place? Large gilded mirrors lined some of the corridors, and every ornamental table held a vibrantly painted vase with flowers even larger than the ones we’d seen in town.
My fingers itched to touch one to ascertain whether they were real, but such scrutiny would have to wait for another time. I couldn’t afford to lose our guide.
The guard clomped ahead in silence. Couldn’t he give us a tour, or at least offer a bit of friendly conversation? But then, perhaps the few words he’d spoken were all he knew of the Sandrinian language.
My steps faltered, and I nearly tripped on my skirt’s hem. It only now occurred to me that our driver had spoken Sandrinian. Had they chosen him especially for the occasion, or was it a commonly known language here?
I relived the moments on the dock, surrounded by strings of words I couldn’t begin to comprehend. If only Papa could’ve been satisfied marrying me off to a Trellan nobleman.
Victoria collided with my back in our sudden halt. To our right stood a pair of tall, thin doors, painted with an intricate design of purple and yellow flowers.
The guard bowed deeply. “Your Highness.”
I barely managed a nod before one of the doors was hauled open. Victoria stepped demurely aside just inside the door, and Jac ushered me forward.
“Her Highness, Princess Penelope of Trellich.” The name sounded—off—on his tongue, the “Ps” with a hint of “V.” With a grand bow, he motioned to me and disappeared toward the back of the room.
My legs shook as I curtsied. I rose, finally taking in the people gathered before me. Not as many as I’d feared, presumably only the royal family rather than their entire entourage.
“Princess Penelope, you are very welcome here.” The wide man who’d been seated on the taller throne rose, spreading his arms wide. Black hair intermixed with white curled against his temples beneath the crown squatting on his forehead. “How good to see you arrived in safety.”
“Yes, thank you. Your—Majesty.” Clearly he was the emperor. My mind raced through years of etiquette lessons. Was there a proper way to address him?
Fortunately, his smile grew wider. “Your father told me you have grown into much beauty, and I see he speaks true.”
“Th-thank you. You are very kind.”
Heat scorched my cheeks. This was to be my new family, and they were certainly welcoming me warmly. But I wanted nothing more than to turn and run away.
“We are so happy you are here, Princess Penelope.” The empress’s voice was less booming than her husband’s, her effort to form the Sandrinian words more pronounced. Straight dark hair cascaded down her back, her hazel eyes soft amid her bronze skin.
