tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (11 page)

I had pulled down every book in my collection and leafed through it, thinking perhaps I would find some mention of a people who resembled the young man I had met, and yet I could find nothing. True, I had heard stories of those who were born with no coloring at all, but those stories had also stated that such unfortunates had reddish eyes. The stranger in the forest certainly did not possess red eyes. Even now I could recall the way the moonlight had glinted on his face, awakening shimmers of silver from between his thick lashes…which had been dark, startling against his pale skin.

Although it was not the sort of thing I wished to admit to myself, I realized then that he was quite the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

However, I could not allow myself to be distracted by such surface concerns. Far more important was how he seemed to know exactly what was happening with my cousins, even if he had been reluctant to tell me the truth. Based on what he had said, I knew he was not the one who had cast the spell…but did he work for, or even with, the mage responsible for that strange magic?

That was certainly the first thing I would ask, once I saw him again. I did not know why I was so certain such a thing would happen, when he had all but driven me from the woods the night before, but somehow I felt it in my bones that we would meet again.

And the second matter I would inquire of him would be why this strange spell, seemingly cast to capture all the young women dwelling in the castle, did not affect me at all. It could not be because of my blood, for I was related to the three sisters, and Janessa not at all, and yet she went out into the night and danced with them, where I, their own cousin, did not.

The stranger’s warnings that I should stay away…well, I had decided to ignore them. Had I not survived my first journey into the woods completely unscathed? That is, except the damage done to my gown and my shoes, but those were minor things, and I would be more careful tonight, now that I knew what to expect.

At length it was time for dinner. Because the first of the wedding guests would not be arriving until the next day, our evening meal tonight would be a quiet enough affair, and I knew I would not need to change my gown. So I returned my books to their shelves and went downstairs, steeling myself to face Lord Mayson for the first time since his father had departed.

Luckily, my tidying up had made me late enough that I was the last to enter the dining hall. Everyone was already seated, Mayson in his usual place to my uncle’s left, while Aunt Lyselle had the chair to the right.

Murmuring an apology for my tardiness, I hurried to my place, which was opposite Janessa and below Carella. When I had first come to stay at the castle, I had found myself somewhat angered by the designated spot where I must sit, since it seemed to signal to everyone my lowly position in the family, a cousin there by sufferance, a poor relation. I cannot say I was still completely reconciled to it, even though I understood the customs which dictated the placement. In that moment, however, I was merely glad my position at the bottom of the table meant I was safely separated from Lord Mayson.

As had been the case lately, the conversation centered mostly around Adalynn’s upcoming nuptials, with more of the apparently ceaseless discussions of the placement of the flowers and whether another course should be added to the dinner, and what on earth they should do if dreadful Cousin Patrile should show up the way she had threatened. I listened with half an ear, my thoughts far more focused on what lay ahead for me that night after everyone had gone to bed.

Even so, I could not help but notice the way Mayson’s gaze seemed fixed on me, so that every time I looked up from my plate, I saw his dark eyes glaring down the length of the table to the place where I sat. Although the food was quite excellent, I found my appetite wanting to desert me. Surely he was not going to pursue his suit, not after everything I had said both to him and to his father?

I couldn’t know, and that was most definitely not the time to ask. The only positive note was that no one else seemed to perceive his unwanted attention, and so I thought I could still salvage the evening, if only I was able to slip away after dinner before he had a chance to speak to me.

My luck did not seem to hold, however. The servants came to clear away the plates, and everyone stood. This was the time when my uncle would go to his study, while we girls would head to Aunt Lyselle’s sitting room for more conversation before it was time to retire upstairs for the night. But as I stood and began to inch my way toward the door, Lord Mayson said,

“Perhaps a turn outside, Iselda? For it is still quite warm.”

Trapped, I could but nod. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I noted how my aunt’s head tilted to one side, as if she was absorbing this new wrinkle and attempting to determine how it might alter what I had said to her previously on the subject of Mayson Bellender. Affecting an air of unconcern, I waited for him to come up to me. Then he offered his arm, and I had no choice but to take it so he might lead me out of the dining chamber and into the corridor, where a door opened up onto the gardens.

Despite my unease, I could not help noticing what a beautiful evening it was, the air still thick with the scent of roses, the first stars beginning to appear in the soft, lavender-tinted skies. A perfect evening for romance, some might think. Was that Mayson’s intention — to bring me to a place where the conditions were perfect for convincing me to be his wife?

I swallowed, but said nothing as he closed the garden door and began to lead me down one of the graveled paths. When we were far enough away from any open windows that even the most avid ear could not have overheard our conversation, he stopped, dark eyes intent on my face.

“I think you have been avoiding me, Iselda.”

Denials immediately bubbled to my lips. “No, my lord, of course not. It was only that it was quite warm today, and I did not much feel inclined toward activity. Up in my room, the breeze is very fine, and it is far more comfortable than in other parts of the castle.”

That actually sounded quite plausible. I waited as he seemed to consider my words, and hoped he would believe them. Then he said, “I thought we were friends, Iselda.”

My heart sank. Truly, I did not know what to say to him. Friends, yes, but he wished for more than that, or at least wished for me to be a friend while at the same time to become his wife. I did not think I could manage that.

Especially not after last night,
I thought, even though I immediately pushed the ridiculous notion away. I did not know who the strange young man was, not even his name. Yes, I’d been struck by his beauty, but that was certainly no reason for me to expect anything else from him, other than an explanation as to why all the castle’s young women were being summoned to perform their strange dance.

“We are friends, my lord,” I said. “And I thought we had already discussed this.”

“We did.” He paused then, again searching my face. I thought of the contrast between his warm brown eyes and the stranger’s glittering silver, and was vaguely ashamed of myself for making the comparison. I certainly had no reason to be doing so. “And my father told me what you said.” Another hesitation, and he moved closer, then took my hands in his. “Do you really think a marriage between us would be loveless?”

How on earth should I respond to that? Even as I flailed about, attempting to come up with a reasonable answer, a spark of anger awoke inside me. Lord Elwyn should not have told his son that I had said such things.

“I — ”

I could get no further than that, because in the next moment Mayson had pulled me toward him, was bending down…and oh, his mouth was touching mine, and he was kissing me, his fingers tight on mine, his lips sweet with wine.

I will not lie and say it was not pleasurable on some level. Indeed, I thought I could see why men and women desired to kiss one another, for the sensations flooding through me were both novel and at the same time curiously exciting. And yet…

…and yet I did not feel the world stop turning, nor did I feel as if my body was on fire, both descriptions I had read in books of how it was supposed to feel when a man kissed you. Perhaps those books had been exaggerating…or perhaps I was not sent into transports merely because it was Mayson kissing me, rather than the true match of my heart.

After a moment, he raised his mouth from mine and said, his voice somewhat hoarse, “You see? We will do very well together, Iselda. Do you deny it?”

I pulled in a breath, and then another. “Mayson, I — I am not sure what to say.”

“What is there to say, except you will be my wife?”

Oh, gods. Very gently, I pulled my fingers from his. “Do you think one kiss is enough to change my mind?”

His eyes glinted in the semi-darkness. “I can give you another, if that is what you need to convince you.”

This was a Mayson I did not quite recognize. Was he being more forceful because the kiss had awakened something inside him, something he had not wanted to acknowledge until this moment?

I did not know what to say. For I could not deny that I had enjoyed the kiss, even while I knew it was not everything it might have been. Or was I just being foolish, thinking that what the storybooks said had any bearing on the real world? Mayson was only a few years older than I, handsome and kind and titled. A girl such as myself could do far, far worse. Indeed, many would say that I now had no choice, that because I had allowed him to take such a liberty with me, I had compromised myself and must be his wife or face certain disgrace.

But no one had seen us. We were quite alone here. That was enough to convince me that I had no need to make that kind of sacrifice.

“I — I am not sure it would be wise for you to kiss me again,” I managed at last. At once his expression fell, and I reached out to take his hands. “Oh, dear Mayson, you are making this so very difficult for me!”

Once again he tightened his fingers around mine, and once again he pulled me close to him. Truly, there was something rather heady about standing so close, of feeling as if I could almost hear his heart beating. He bent down, but this time his lips brushed my cheek rather than touching my mouth. In a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I do not want to be difficult. And — and I am willing to wait for you to decide what it is you wish to do. But Iselda, please make sure that you are not making things too hard for yourself. We all have wishes and dreams…but dreams are chancy things. They can disappear very quickly. Do not ignore what is in front of you just because of a dream.”

Then he let go of my hands and touched my cheek, so briefly I almost could have imagined the gentle caress. And at once he turned and walked away from me, hurrying off to a different door than the one we had used to let ourselves out into the garden.

For the longest moment, I could only stand there and watch where he had gone. My heart raced, and I warred with myself.

I did not think I would have any difficulty staying awake that night.

Nor did I. Oh, once again Janessa was avid, wishing to know everything that had passed between his lordship and myself, but I was in enough mental tumult that I snapped at her and said it would be a mercy if I got a moment’s peace in this house. That remark was enough to send her flouncing to her bed in stony silence, and she turned her face to the wall so she would not have to look at me.

I sighed, and immediately regretted my hasty words, but there was no taking them back. Perhaps she would forgive me, perhaps not. In the morning I would apologize and tell her I was merely on edge because of all the upheaval in the house. It would not even be a lie, not really.

But how in the world could I confess to her that Lord Mayson had kissed me, and I had no idea what I should do next? For in our sheltered little world, a kiss such as that might as well be a betrothal. Men and women of our station were not meant to share such intimacies unless marriage was soon to follow.

At length her offended silence faded into sleep as she began to breathe deeply, not quite snoring, if the next thing to it. I sat wakeful, and watched the pale moonlight begin to pour in through the window. Everything was still, even the night breeze dwindling to nothing.

And then Janessa sat upright in her bed. Immediately, I looked over at her; her eyes met mine, but there was nothing in them, no recognition, not even a spark of her lively soul. It was like staring into a pair of black mirrors, depthless, almost inhuman.

Despite the stuffy heat in the chamber, ice seemed to trail down my spine, awakening gooseflesh on my arms. As I watched, hardly daring to breathe, she picked up the sheet and thin blanket that covered her, then carefully folded them back. Then she swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood.

Something about her movements seemed strangely jerky, as if she was a marionette being controlled by unseen strings. Was this part of the spell? Was the mage who had cast it forcing her through every step, every motion?

Next, she stepped into one of the slippers lying on the floor beside her bed, followed by its mate. Although a dressing gown lay draped across the foot of her bed, she ignored it. And I recalled how she and my cousins had danced in the moonlight in only their nightgowns. Not a one of them had bothered to cover herself.

Janessa went to the door and opened it. Almost at the same time, the door across the corridor opened as well, and Carella and Theranne emerged. The three of them moved to the center of the hallway and stood there, waiting. In the next moment, I saw why, for Adalynn approached them, and they all fell into line behind her as she headed down the hall and toward the stairwell.

That seemed to be my cue. I leapt out of bed and thrust my feet into the shoes I had hidden under the bed against just this purpose. There being no time for me to dress myself properly, I grabbed a shawl from the wardrobe before hurrying after them. The piece of thin wool was certainly not necessary on such a warm night. I had not taken it for warmth, however, but for modesty. If I should encounter the stranger again tonight, at least I would do so while being partially covered.