Dark One Rising (37 page)

She stared at him not saying anything, her mind spinning fast.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I can’t accept that from you.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be right.”

“Accepting a gift isn’t wrong.”

“It is if the gift is from you.” He started to say something but she did not let him answer. Instead, she frowned at him and said, “My affections will not be bought.”

He was silent for a minute, slightly confused by her statement, then realized what she was implying. “It’s not what you’re thinking, I assure you. I’m not trying to win your affections or woo you into my bed. I just felt that something that brought you obvious joy shouldn’t be wasted hanging on a merchants cart. It’s in no way a gift to win you over; it’s just a gift.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry for accusing you of impropriety, but I still don’t think it would be right to take it. We’re not lovers, therefore, I cannot except a gift as such.”

“How about a gift from a friend? I consider us friends. Don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, but it’s not exactly the gift a friend would give another.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well. It’s bought and paid for, and I can’t return it. Besides it wouldn’t go at all with my hair color. It would look much better with red.” She smiled a bit at that, his subtle joke intended to lighten the mood. “You don’t ever have to wear it. I won’t be insulted if you don’t.”

She smiled at him thinly and picked it up off the table. She stared at it for a minute or two, her mouth turning up in a small smile at whatever memory the gift stirred. She curled the chain up in the palm of her hand and looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She clutched her hand around it and stood up from the table again, him standing politely. As she was leaving the room he said to her, “It seems to instill some sort of pleasant memory in you. I would be most intrigued to hear about it someday, if you’d ever like to share it.”

“Perhaps someday.”

She left him standing in the dining room, alone. She headed out into the garden. The cool night air brushed her bare shoulders, and she shivered momentarily, but then got acclimated to the breeze. If she were still in Aaralyn, she would be wrapped in her woolen cloak right now, and instead of dainty slippers on her feet, there would be woolen boots. The raw cold still held on in her province. She feared they were headed this way. She shivered again, but not from the air. She thought about the things that were happening on her side of the kingdom, things she knew would hit this side soon enough. The unseasonably long cold weather, the dry creek beds, and the towns who had lost an entire seasons crops overnight. Things that made no sense. Things that frightened her. She remembered overhearing her father and Kevaan talk about disturbing reports from all the way into Xenos, reports about unexplainable things. Kevaan had ridden to some of the villages to look into the reports but had no explanation or solution for any of them. Alek was riding through to see for himself the carnage and oddities in his own realm too.

This perplexed her. All her life she had feelings that things were happening, that there were things coming, things that bode ill for everyone, but she could never explain those feelings and never had anyone she trusted enough to express them to. She trusted Kevaan, but he had his own worries to think about, and she thought the feelings were just her own paranoid delusions, that they meant nothing. Now though, those thoughts from before came back into her head, and this time she didn’t think it was just the crazy inklings of a silly girl.

She didn’t feel right telling Dain of her thoughts, but she wanted to learn more. She felt so out of touch on this side of the kingdom, so far away from everything that was important. She missed her brother. She missed her home.

She sighed. Whatever this business was all about, she hoped they would find the reasons and the solution and be done with it. Then she could go home where she belonged.

CHAPTER 22

W
hen Melenthia awoke she spent the day wandering around the castle exploring some of the rooms she hadn’t been able to peek into since she had been here. There were so many. She opened a door at the bottom of the hallway down from her apartments and found a large sitting room. The walls were painted in a light sea foam green, and the furniture, although sparse, was soft and comfortable.

There were paintings on the walls, mostly landscapes, and she was impressed at the expertise in the renderings. She walked over to a particularly beautiful one and looked at it closer. It was a rendition of a mill, with a large water wheel, and a field of flowers flowing down a hillside on the back side of the small rustic building. She remembered seeing that exact building before. On their trip into the city they had passed by it. There was so much detail in the picture that she felt she could walk right into it and get lost in the lush green countryside. She could almost hear the water rushing through the giant wheel, pumping it out the other side. She peered down into the lower corner of the picture and stood up erect in surprise. It can’t be. She leaned over again just to be sure she was not imagining things. The signature was the same as on the other pictures, but it was also the same signature that was on the supply order she had watched Dain sign weeks ago. Dain was an artist. She wandered around the room, looking at all of the paintings there, each one different, but with the same steady and talented hand. She wondered why he had never told her he was a painter, and an extremely talented one at that.

The last one she approached, she peered at it as closely as she had done the others, was a still life of a woman dressed in exquisite clothing. The woman was very regal looking and beautiful. She had a small but ornate crown upon her head, and Melenthia deduced that this could very well be Dain’s mother, the late Queen Raewyn.

She heard someone clear his throat behind her and she jumped, turning to see Emerick standing in the doorway. “Exploring today are we, Your Highness?”

Emerick was a short plump man, not fat, just softer around the torso and the chin and cheeks, with silvery gray hair and bushy eyebrows of the same color. He had blue-gray eyes and a smile that made dimples on the sides of his mouth. He was dressed in his usual attire, hosen and plain doublet, and wore a signet ring of ranking on his right ring finger. His left finger still had a pale indentation around it from where he had worn his marriage ring for over fifty years. He was a very nice man, and Melenthia liked him a lot, but she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be in here so therefore defended herself.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go where I wasn’t permitted, but the door was not locked and I wasn’t told this room was off limits.”

“You’re fine,” he said approaching her side. He glanced up at the painting she had been studying and smiled. “It’s quite good isn’t it?”

“She’s very lovely. Is it the Queen?”

“Yes, done lovingly by her son’s own hand.”

“He never told me he was an artist.”

“He doesn’t tell many. He hasn’t picked up a brush in years, not since she died. This one was done when he was only twelve.”

She was really impressed now. “Why would he stop doing something he’s so obviously talented at?”

“He hasn’t done a lot of things he should since she passed, but a lot of things he should not.”

“Does it bother him to talk about it?”

“A bit, but I would suspect that anything you asked him about, he would gladly tell you.”

She glanced at him. “Why would you say that?”

“You mean you don’t see it?”

“See what?”

“I’ve been in the service of this household for more than forty years; I’ve known Dain since he was born. I’ve seen all the sides of him, good and bad, and have tried to care for him to the best of my ability. When his mother died, he lost a bit of himself and started to seem lost, floundering around without much purpose. When his father died and he was forced unto the throne, he changed completely. He was good to the people, but he couldn’t be good to himself. He walked down a path of self destruction for years. Both Alek and I were getting concerned. But since you arrived, there has been a new spark in him. A new light is coming back into his soul. He fancies you, Melenthia, and I don’t mean that he’s entertained by you. I think that boy is falling in love.”

Melenthia stared at Emerick, her cheeks filling with heat. She was holding his gaze, but then looked away. He quickly added, “It may not be my place to say. Forgive me if I embarrassed you, Your Highness.”

“It’s alright, Emerick. I know you care for him. I think you’re mistaken, but I appreciate the sentiment. He’s kind and is doing his best to make sure I’m safe and comfortable, but I can assure you that he’s not falling in love with me. I believe I amuse him.”

Emerick smiled kindly, his bushy gray eyebrows raised in question, the wrinkles around his steel gray eyes crinkled. “You don’t believe you’re worthy of love.” It was not a question, so she did not answer. He continued. “Well, I hope that one day you find that you’re wrong.”

Footsteps behind them caused them to turn, and they saw Dain standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame of it, arms crossed over his chest. He was silent, but he had an amused smile on his face.

“I can’t leave you two alone for a minute. I should’ve known you two would have intrigues behind my back. You, Emerick, should know better than to give away all my secrets.”

“She stumbled on this one all on her own, Sire.”

Melenthia was embarrassed, wondering just how much of the conversation he’d heard. He entered the room and came over to her, taking her hand in his and kissing it.

“I’m sorry for intruding on your personal space, Dain, I was just curious.”

“It’s quite alright, Melenthia. If I really wanted to hide it, I would’ve locked the door. Although, I
was
under the impression that Emerick was supposed to be the protector of certain subjects. I should’ve known you would get under his skin as well.”

Emerick cleared his throat and bowed to his king, then to Melenthia, leaving the two of them alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were so talented in the arts?”

He shrugged. “The subject never came up.”

“I’ve told you personal things about me many times, and you’ve never once given away any of your secrets.”

He took a big breath in. “Very well. From this point forward I promise that for every one tidbit you reveal, I’ll reveal two. Is that fair?”

She giggled. “Yes. But it will only appease me if you don’t pick and choose what you reveal and what you don’t.”

“I wouldn’t hear of it. Anything you want to know, I promise I will tell.”

***

She had been with him for over four months and was getting to know him well. They spent large amounts of time together, when he wasn’t involved in state affairs, and she was beginning to feel very comfortable around him.

He was handsome, the dark bags that had been under his eyes when she first met him were almost non-existent now. His pale blue eyes and bright smile were distracting at times, and she admitted to herself that she had an attraction to him, and it was growing.

He was funny and listened to her intently every time she spoke at length, always seeming genuinely interested in anything she had to say. He was easy going, and her zest for the mundane and her adventurous spirit was obviously rubbing off on him.

One afternoon after a filling picnic lunch and a good bit of ale, they were lazing by the pond at the edge of the copse of maple trees, behind the castle wall. The warm sun and the cooling afternoon breeze was intoxicating and they lay back in the soft green grass, looking into the sky, watching the wispy clouds wander by. They were both dressed very casual today, her in a simple linen dress with ties down the long sleeves, no corset, him in plain black breeches. He had traded his doublet for a plain white shirt, which was now unbuttoned, and both of their shoes had been kicked to the side.

He had his head on his bent arm which was tossed over his head. Her head lay on his upper thigh. Her red hair, just past her shoulders now, was splayed out over his leg, the curls tickling the back of her neck when they moved in the light breeze.

She took in a deep breath and sighed. He chuckled at her. She lifted her head and twisted her body so she could look at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I was just marveling at how easily amused and content you are.”

She flipped back over and readjusted herself in her previous spot. “I’m not a high maintenance woman. Never have been. I’m quite capable of amusing myself.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Life is too short not to find contentment in ordinary things.”

“I wish I had had the insight to do these things before now. My life may have gone a different way.”

“It’s never to late, Dain,” she paused. “You know, you don’t have to be here with me, doing things that I enjoy. I’m only a guest under your roof, and you’re under no obligation to babysit me.”

He shifted and sat up, propping himself on his elbows. “Is that what you think I’m doing, babysitting?”

She turned to look at him again. “I didn’t mean to be petulant. I just meant that you don’t have to be with me every hour of the day, doing things you don’t normally do, just to make me feel more comfortable.”