Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (10 page)

"I am too, my lord," I said much more confidently than I felt. "And thank you for receiving me with such short notice."

"But of course." He eyed me a moment longer, then, without warning, snapped his fingers. The sound cracked through the large hall, and a butler stepped forth from the shadows.

"My lord?" the butler asked, all humility.

"Fetch us a bottle of Cappor," Lord Pontefract said, the emphasis on the "por."

"Yes, my lord." The butler turned on his heels, but Lord Pontefract stopped him.

"And a dish of olives."

"Yes, my lord. Will there be anything else?"

"Make it quick."

The butler bowed and vanished, and Lord Pontefract motioned for Danton and me to follow him to a long table I hadn't noticed earlier, situated along the side of the room. He took a seat at the head, while Danton pulled a chair out for me beside his father and took his own place opposite me, on his father's other side. Lord Pontefract swept his jeweled hand over the top of the fat sconce at our end of the table, and a flame sprang to life inside.

Magic was so easy for him, so effortless I hadn't even felt the pulse of energy when he'd made the flame. This unnerved me a little, and it also furthered my resolve to hide my own abilities from him as long as possible. He could use my title, but I didn't want him having any access to my magic.

"There, this is much better." Lord Pontefract threaded his fingers together and set them on the table. "I find diplomacy much more endurable over drinks. Don't you agree, your highness?"

Danton watched his father with ice-cold eyes.

I met Lord Pontefract's inquiring gaze and gave him a brilliant smile. "I'm sure I'd agree if I liked them."

Lord Pontefract stared at me and then laughed, a loud boom of sound that wasn't the least bit authentic. He then glanced sideways at his son. "I told you you'd find a more docile wife in Lady Isla."

I felt a swell of irritation from Danton's side of the table, but his face betrayed none of it. "Docile, perhaps, but not necessarily a trait one wants in the Lady of Orindor."

Lord Pontefract rubbed his chin and looked back at me, amused. "True, though it's a trait a man might want for his lady's
other
duties."

Danton's cheeks splotched pink and his gaze dropped to the table. My cheeks flushed hot, too. Lord Pontefract had said it all in jest, of course, but it felt unnatural, like a viper slithering into your lap to cuddle. It kept sliding closer and closer only so it could bite with more accuracy. Before anyone could say another word on the matter of docility—and to my relief—the butler returned. He set an ice-filled goblet before each of us, unstoppered a beautiful crystal decanter filled with a rich amber liquid, and filled our glasses. Once he finished, he set the decanter on the table, placed a pretty glass bowl of stuffed olives between us, and then bowed in retreat.

"Will that be all, my lord?"

Lord Pontefract waved him off. "Quite."

The butler returned to the shadows, unseen, though I could feel his presence nearby. Just in case Lord Pontefract snapped for anything else.

"Of course you know Cappor is made only in Orindor." Lord Pontefract picked up his glass and swirled the amber liquid, making the ice jingle. I did not know this, but I didn't comment. Instead I glanced at Danton, whose steely gaze had settled back on his father, and I found myself trying to understand their relationship. I didn't sense much affection between them, and then I wondered if that was good or bad for me.

"That year's batch of junipine berries was supreme, I must say," Lord Pontefract was saying.

I turned my attention back to him. "Junipine berries? I don't think I know what those are."

Lord Pontefract took a sip and set down his goblet with a refreshed-sounding sigh. "Forgive me: I forget you are so newly acquainted with this world. Junipine berries aren't unique to Orindor. They're found all over Gaia, but they are poisonous in all places except here, in Orindor. Our pedologists claim it has to do with the particular nutrients in our soil, but whatever the reason, we are the only region able to make Cappor. It is quite an extensive process. This bottle"—he gestured to the decanter—"has been aging for fifty-six years."

The ice-cubes in Danton's glass clanked as he took a small, slow sip. Feeling my gaze, he glanced at me over the rim of his glass, and then let the glass hover near his mouth. "Don't feel as if you have to drink it."

Lord Pontefract frowned at his son.

"I don't," I said, grabbing the cold and sweaty glass. "But I can't say I don't like something if I've never tried it. And who knows…maybe your Cappor will make a drinking diplomat out of me." I glanced sideways at Lord Pontefract with a grin.

Lord Pontefract sat back, looking pleased—and surprised—by my response, and I hadn't realized how tense Danton had been until his shoulders visibly relaxed. Then I took a slow sip.

Nope. It tasted just like every other drink I'd ever had in this world.

My throat burned, and it took all my concentration not to make a face while forcing it down with a gulp. I set the glass back down and wiped my lips only to find both men watching me.

"It's…different." I smiled, then coughed. An imperceptible smile cracked on Danton's lips. "Maybe it's an acquired taste."

Lord Pontefract gave me one of those smiles that was really just an enlightened frown only arrogant people seem to have mastered. He then picked up a two-pronged fork and used it to stab an olive with barbaric force. "I hear you intend to wed my son."

Gosh, he made it sound as if I'd done something wrong, and maybe even a little improper.

Before I could reply, Danton spoke. "Father, we've already discussed…" A sharp glare from his father silenced him.

"I'm not speaking to you," Lord Pontefract continued, shoving the impaled olive into his mouth. "I'm speaking to your
betrothed
." He chomped on that olive, studying me with unnerving scrutiny.

Apparently, the conversational prologue was over. Drinks were here, and now it was time for the wily and verbal game of chess, a.k.a diplomacy. I hadn't liked the way he'd said betrothed, as if the term was beneath him and its significance laughable. I reminded myself Danton had spent all morning with his father discussing this, and according to Danton, Lord Pontefract had agreed. So, despite my own misgivings, there was hope.

I folded my hands in my lap, sat tall, and looked straight at Lord Pontefract. "Yes. I would be honored to marry your son, assuming your proposal still stands."

Lord Pontefract smiled to himself—that enlightened frown again—swallowed his olive, and took another swig of his Cappor. Wood creaked as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands upon the table. "You present a rather large problem for me, your highness, which is why I wanted to talk with you first."

"What sort of problem, my lord?" I asked.

"You see before, when I first made the offer, we weren't at war." He scratched the corner of his enlightened mouth. "If I ally Orindor to Valdon at this point in time, I am no longer simply entering an alliance, I am entering a war. And as lord of Orindor, entrusted guardian of my people's safety, surely you can understand the magnitude of this decision."

Okay, so maybe I hated diplomacy. It required too much emotional restraint. "Of course I understand the magnitude of this decision," I said, "but what I don't understand is how that's changed. Even if I'd accepted your proposal when you first made it, you'd still be in this position."

Lord Pontefract leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, but that is where you are wrong, your highness. Everything has changed."

"Where are you going with this?" Danton cut in. "I thought you—"

"Silence," Lord Pontefract growled at his son.

Danton's jaw clenched. "I've already explained why she—"

Lord Pontefract slammed his fist on the table, rattling the ice in our glassware. "Another word, and you will leave this table at once. I've already heard everything you've had to say, and being that
you
can't ever see past your libido, I'd like to hear it from
her
."

Danton sat back in his chair, white knuckles wrapped around his glass. His anger burned hot as a blazing meteor.

Yes, this was the Lord Commodus Pontefract I knew and feared. This was the side I had always feared. This was why Danton didn't love his father. Respect? Maybe. Duty? Sure. But love? Doubtful. And I suddenly felt sorry for him. My father was gone now, but I knew without a doubt he had always loved me, and he'd always made a point to show me. Even though he was far away from me now, I still drew strength from that love, just as I had always done.

Satisfied he'd silenced Danton, Lord Pontefract set his full attention back on me. It was all I could do not to lash out and say something. I wanted to defend Danton, which surprised me, but I couldn't stand seeing anyone spoken to like that, especially when that person had been trying to defend me.

"How have things changed, Lord Pontefract?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay controlled. "And I'm not sure what you're referring to: the war, or something else?"

"Both, but allow me to explain." His tone was matter-of-fact, as if he hadn't just humiliated his son. "
Before
, your position was something of value, but it is not so now. Valdon is infested with shadowguard; Castle Regius is surrounded and debilitated by a weak king with even weaker progeny."

Now he was insulting my family, and my anger ignited. "
Weak
? He's still your king and Stefan is your prince, and you are still sworn to protect them. If Valdon is weak, then it's partly Orindor's fault for not defending it."

"And you would have me sacrifice Orindor's people for a lost cause?"

"It wouldn't be lost if you followed through with your duty to Valdon."

"Why should I?" he growled. "I've sacrificed more than my share of men to your grandfather's whims over the years, and to what end? He does nothing but protect his own land while the rest of us suffer."

"Yes, I can clearly see how much you're suffering." I gestured to the room.

Raw and volatile power simmered inside of him. "I don't expect you to understand, your highness—you, who have lived in this world less than a year. What would you know of the past?"

I clenched my teeth to keep from smarting back. It was so difficult, but I needed this. I needed his men. "You're right, my lord. I don't know what you've gone through or how Orindor has suffered beneath my grandfather's rule. But…Valdon
needs
you. This world needs you, and as princess, if we—"

"
Princess
," he sneered. "Yes, you may still be the princess of Gaia, but you are the princess of a brittle throne and you grossly overestimate your current value."

And there went my self-control. "And you grossly overestimate yours," I snapped, feeling the weight of Danton's gaze fall on me. "I know you have the unity stone. I know your brother is alive and trying to get you to side with my uncle, and I know that is the
only
reason why Orindor has gone unscathed so far. You're not a guardian of your people. You're only a guardian of power, and you're just waiting to see who will give you more."

The vein on Lord Pontefract's right temple protruded so much I thought it might pop. "You will not—"

I cut him off. "I also know that for some reason I can't fathom, my father trusted you. You! Of everyone in this world, he sought
you
out, to warn
you
of the evil returning to this world. That was why he'd left me in the first place and I had to come to this world without him—because he'd fled to
you
." I pointed a finger at his face. Lord Pontefract's gaze faltered, but he didn't speak, so I continued. "The throne is brittle, yes, and I won't pretend my grandfather is doing his best to save it, but don't delude yourself into thinking if Valdon falls, Orindor will stay free and safe. As
entrusted guardian of your people
, you should know better because you know my uncle, and you know firsthand how he destroyed your brother and made him what he is now."

The silence that followed was louder than anything that had been said thus far. Danton's eyes were huge as they stared at me, his thin lips pinched in a tight line. I was certain I'd done it—overstepped my boundary yet again.

"Enough." Lord Pontefract's voice was a low tremor, and I quietly awaited the blow—the words that would seal Valdon's fate once and for all. There was so much turmoil inside of him: pain and horror, pride and…fear. An exorbitant amount of fear. "We are done here. Danton, escort her highness back to her chambers."

Danton started to stand, but it was the gnawing fear inside of Lord Pontefract that forced more words out of me.

"No." I stood, placing my hands on the edge of the table while looking straight into Lord Pontefract's wintry gaze.

His features twisted with hatred, as if the very word "no" had finally unleashed some demon inside of him. "What did you say?"

"I said
no
. I'm not leaving this room until you listen to what I have to say."

Danton froze before his chair, his gaze sliding between his father and me. The tension in the air was noxious, palpable and frightening, as if there were an evil spirit hovering between us, waiting for Lord Pontefract's command to murder me where I stood, but I didn't care. I'd come all the way here for this, and Lord Commodus Pontefract was not dismissing me before I'd said my piece. And since Lord Pontefract seemed verbally paralyzed at the moment, I kept talking. "My uncle is a tyrant who does not share power. He uses people to accomplish his goals—just as he used your brother before and is using
your
wavering fidelity to bring down Castle Regius now—and then he'll discard all of you when he's through. I've only known him a few months and even I can see that. I think deep down you see it, too, which is why you haven't chosen a side yet. You're afraid. Don't tell me you're not, because I can feel it. I am, after all, a Pandor, and although my magic is wanting, I do have
that
ability." I'd decided to admit to this right as the words were coming out of my mouth. Sometimes admitting part of the truth prevented people from asking more questions.