Keeper of the Wolves (18 page)

I nodded, my eyes on Koya as the music ended
and a gentleman in a black waistcoat and dark blue pants swept in
to ask her hand for the next number. She accepted with a forced
smile and was carried away again to a tune played by stringed
instruments and a curious wooden pipe with holes down both sides.
Their dance took them apart then together again as couples swirled
in lively steps. Koya laughed at something the man said and anger
swelled in my chest again. I fought back a growl of frustration and
turned my attention to the servants.

Hundreds of men and women in Vielkeep’s red
and black slipped from doors cunningly concealed behind tapestries.
They carried trays of food that smelled of fish and cow, deer and
pig. Plates were laden with enough pastries and honey-laced fruit
drinks to feed three duchies. Gathering Ball guests accepted the
morsels as though the people who served them were invisible, and
the servants acted as though that was completely normal. In my life
with the circus, I was used to being gawked at, not ignored as
though I didn’t exist. I wondered what it felt like to be looked
through as part of the furniture. It didn’t seem right to me, and I
wondered why no one did anything about it.

The servants loaded four long tables at one
end of the ballroom with heaps of food; candied apples, roots
covered in cinnamon butter, leafy greens dressed with a scent tart
enough to sting my nose, a roasted, tusked boar whose skin was
golden brown and glazed with honey and clove, mounds of cherries,
orange and yellow citrus fruit, slices of turkey and marinated fish
speckled with parsley and mint, baked pheasant, and rounds of
cheeses aged until their scent came sharp and pungent enough to
make my mouth water.

Another table was dedicated to desserts, a
dark cake with chocolate icing, small squares that smelled of the
same chocolate but were frosted with honey and a thick
tawny-colored sauce, white powdered circles that smelled of the
fruit that had been baked in the middle, a tray of delicately
crafted candies shaped like the flags of each duchy, tiny animals
spun from fragile, colorful sugars, and a big bowl of deep purple
punch with a smell that was tart and pleasant at the same time,
coloring the air with the promise of berries, summer, and a bite of
snow-fed streams from the high mountains.

Several guests were already partaking of the
dessert table, Duke Farington and his wife included. Both shot
glances at where Koya now danced with a burly man in a sea green
suit and a purple shirt. He would have looked ridiculous if
everyone around him wasn’t dressed in similarly bright colors. It
seemed as if Joven’s clothing choices fit right into the normal
social standards. I wondered if he wore them because he liked them
or because he wanted to fit in.

Something about the man caught my attention.
He danced with Koya on feet lighter than I would have guessed
possible for his tall stature. His black hair was slicked back with
grease that gave off a scent of mint and lard as I drew near. He
held one of Koya’s hands in his own and his other rested at her
waist, a liberty which none of the other dancers had taken thus
far.

At first glance his grip on her hand
appeared casual, but closer observation showed her fingers to be
white with the pressure. The look on her face was one of careful
calm, but as I neared the dessert table by which they danced, I
could smell a hint of frustration and anger wafting amid her meadow
gold and vanilla.

“
Lord Vesut is taking
liberties,” the rotund lord of Sunhold said in a low voice to his
wife as they sampled the powdered circles. He wiped his fingers on
a servant’s sleeve and moved to the chocolate cake. “I’m surprised
Lord Vielslayer hasn’t taken him aside. It’s as if Vesut is
claiming her as his wife already. He should show a little more
decorum.” He licked off a brown finger and gave a sniff of disdain.
“Tell the cook his icing could use more cream,” he said in a
haughty tone to a servant setting out tiny plates of chilled lime
pulp.

The poor servant nodded and hurried back to
the kitchen with a look in her eyes I understood. Her words
wouldn’t be well received and she might suffer a punishment because
of the careless orders of one overly-confident, portly individual
with a wife who now had chocolate frosting in her perfectly styled
hair. I took a step after the servant with the thought of
alleviating her punishment if possible, but a sharp voice caught my
attention.

“
Lord Vesut, you go too
far,” Koya said in a tone I had never heard before. She kept her
words quiet so as not to be overheard, but the edge of warning made
my chest tighten.

The burly lord laughed off her request and
pulled her closer to him so that they danced nearer than any other
couple on the floor. Several glances were shared by those dancing
around them and I smelled scents of surprise and consternation.
Adrenaline began to pump through my veins. The lord would not let
Koya go even though she now pushed against him with both hands. He
merely chuckled and spun closer to the dessert table.

When they neared me, I grabbed his shoulder
in one hand and reached across his body to his far wrist. I jerked
down, breaking Koya from his grasp.

“
What do you think
you’re-”

I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him
into the dessert table. It crashed to the ground under his weight.
The bowl of purple punch flew up and landed on his chest, spilling
sugary syrup across his sea green suit. Heat ran beneath my skin
with a rage that threatened to overcome my self-control. The
instincts of the wolf to protect those I cared about burned with
red anger and clouded everything but the man who hurt Koya. I
tightened my hold on his neck until I felt his breath rattle
beneath my palm.

“
Don’t. . .touch. . .her. .
.again,” I growled in a voice that made the Lord soil his pants. At
the revolting scent, contempt for the coward surged through my
veins and I tightened my grip.

“
Victus.” Joven’s voice was
quiet, but carried an underlying tone of urgency.

I forced myself to look up. Joven watched me
from across the table, his gaze one of agreement, not condemnation.
He didn’t say anything, he merely tipped his head in the wolf-like
gesture he had picked up from me. I followed his eyes to the
horrified crowd that gathered around us far enough away so that
they wouldn’t get punch on their fine suits and dresses. The looks
of fear and surprise let me know the enormity of the social blunder
I had made. Those that met my gaze looked away out of panic that
they would be next. I had seen the same look many times from behind
cage bars.

I removed my hand from Lord Vesut’s throat.
His skin was purple and angry; my finger marks stood out stark
white in contrast. I stepped back and glanced at Koya. Her face was
pale and her fingers were knotted tightly together. The gentleman
in white from earlier, Lord Brayton, held a reassuring hand on her
back. His brows creased together for a moment, then he gave a short
laugh that seemed far out of place given the situation. “Where can
I get a bodyguard like that?” he asked loudly.

Several members of the audience chuckled,
breaking the heavy tension in the room. Four servants rushed
forward and helped Lord Vesut to his feet. He didn’t look back at
me as he stormed out of the ballroom to leave an unpleasant scent
of fear, anger, and refuse in his wake. More servants brought in
another table and, moving with amazing efficiency, moved what
desserts could be salvaged onto the new table and carried away what
had been spoiled.

“
I must say,” Lord Brayton
continued, “If all Danthians are as fiery as Ambassador Tramarius,
we’re better off having them as allies instead of
enemies.”

Several more chuckles followed and the crowd
started to disperse. At Joven’s motion, the orchestra struck up a
hearty tune; people joined hands for a circular dance.

I looked at Koya again, but she refused to
meet my eyes.

“
Would you care for a
refreshing beverage?” Lord Brayton asked her quietly. “I hear we’ll
have the pleasant experience of sampling the cook’s new
batch.”

She nodded; he slipped her arm in his and
led her to peruse the other tables while the dessert one was put
back in order.

Joven met the eyes of a few lingering
onlookers and they turned away. “Let’s catch some fresh air,” he
said quietly. I glanced back at Koya, but he shook his head.
“She’ll be fine with Brayton for a few minutes.” He turned and left
me to follow.

People moved out of our way as we walked to
the main doors. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fear in their
eyes when they looked at me. I felt anxious and suffocated within
the walls of the castle. There were too many people, and the scent
of excitement and panic resulting from my brief encounter with
Vesut lingered heavily in the air. We couldn’t get outside quickly
enough to suit me. I held my breath and walked faster, leaving
Joven to excuse our presence from the assembly.

The steward held open the front door with a
black-gloved hand and I stepped out into the cool night air. Horses
harnessed to carriages from the nobility in the Vielkeep duchy
filled the air with the quiet commotion of restless hooves on
cobblestone, teeth grinding bits, and the soft rub of metal against
leather. Faithful servants waited nearby for their royal families
to appear. I walked along the edge of the castle toward the
gardens. The familiar sound of Joven’s footsteps followed me.

I grabbed a sprig of pine from a small
evergreen and crushed the needles between my fingers as I walked.
The sharp smell brought back memories of the forest and calmed my
racing heart. I put a pine needle in my mouth and bit it with my
front teeth. The strong flavor chased the bitter taste of
adrenaline from my tongue.

I couldn’t get Koya’s expression out of my
mind. She was worried, which made sense given the situation, but
something else showed in her eyes, an emotion I hadn’t seen before.
Was it regret for allowing me to be her protector, or fear because
she saw that I wasn’t in full control of my wolf instincts? Did I
frighten her?

That thought scared me most of all. My heart
ached with remorse. I hadn’t acted appropriately, but I didn’t know
what one should do to protect others in that type of a social
situation. I let the wolf dictate my course of action. Wolves
didn’t second-guess their decisions. They accepted what happened as
a result of their actions and moved on. Each experience was a
lesson to a wolf, but I feared the lesson I learned may have done
more damage than bruising Vesut’s throat. I didn’t care how the
crowd saw me. I only cared about Koya.

“
You felt that assaulting
Lord Vesut was the best course of action?” Joven asked in a neutral
tone.

I nodded, but didn’t turn to face him. I was
afraid of what I might see. If he feared me as the others did, it
would undo me completely.

He kept silent but followed me until I
stopped in a small alcove that had been allowed to grow wild.
Thorny rose branches wrapped between dark green vines that gave off
a heady scent of grapes ready for harvest. I stepped out of my
shoes, anxious for the feeling of loam underfoot. The chaos of my
thoughts slowed at the familiar sensation of broken earth, smooth
stones, and the cool touch of moss that wound between the rocks of
the cobbled path. I longed to be a wolf and run without looking
back. Except wolves didn’t run from what frightened them. They
faced it head on to protect those they cared about, the same way I
had protected Koya.

I pushed my hair back from my face and let
out a sharp breath. “What should I have done?” I asked in a rough
voice as the tumultuous emotions I felt colored the words.

Joven didn’t answer. A slight rustle of
clothing heralded movement and I turned to see him slip off his
shoes and hold them in one hand. He removed a pair of white silk
stockings as well. He studied his bare feet. After a moment, he
wiggled his toes experimentally. He gave a slight smile. “This
isn’t bad.”

A laugh caught in my throat. After all that
had happened, the young duke-to-be was experiencing the joy of
connecting with the earth for the first time. “It’s calming,” I
said.

He nodded. “Yes, it is.” The surprise in his
voice brought a small smile to my face. His brows pinched together.
“I think I understand why you don’t like shoes.”

“
They’re horrid.”

He gave a laugh that ended in a sigh. “I
can’t blame you, Victus. If I could have punched Lord Vesut, I
would have done so the first day I met him. Both of us were spoiled
brats, but he was worse by far. He’s acted as if he owned Vielkeep
from the beginning, and when Father died. . . .” His words faded
away. Sorrow hung in the air when the late Duke was mentioned; it
was obvious he had been well-loved and was sorely missed.

Joven swallowed and shook his head. “Enough
of that. What’s done is done. I can pass it off as foreign
diplomacy and hope the others will remember the lesson.” A sparkle
of laughter hinted in his eyes. He gave a sharp nod and spun on his
bare feet toward the castle. “That will do, and might even protect
Koya in passing.”

“
Joven?” I said before he
reached the corner of the garden.

He glanced back with a questioning look. I
tipped my chin pointedly at his feet. He followed my gaze and let
out a loud laugh. “What would society say if I walked in with earth
and leaves on my feet instead of shoes?” He leaned awkwardly
against the hedge and pulled on the socks followed by his
highly-polished footwear. When he was done, he gave his feet an
ungentlemanly stomp. “Hmph,” he said with a slight frown. “Now
you’ve gone and spoiled my appetite for fine leather and silk
stockings. The ground felt much better without them.”