Chapter 5
In the stable, Aislynn quickly found an empty stall and stripped her horse of his tack. She began brushing him with quick, agitated movements, working out some of her anger. Byron watched from the entrance of the stall, not wanting to interrupt her obviously angry thoughts, so he didn't speak until her irritated movements began to slow.
“Why don’t we introduce Cheta to the pack, and then I'll show you around and take you up to your rooms.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” she responded, turning with a hint of a smile. Aislynn’s temper was quick to flare up, but it was also quick to cool.
It turned out that the dog pack was housed in a building that adjoined the stables and the mews, the three buildings keeping all of the animals together instead of scattered all over the castle grounds. The dogs had a large communal pen inside for sleeping and a large fenced area outside for running. They were good-natured mutts, and Cheta made her introductions quickly and easily, just as Aislynn had expected.
The handlers were another story, reacting as if a wild animal had wandered into the castle and was about to lay waste to the place. It took Byron, Aislynn and the obviously non-aggressive Cheta to convince them that the wolf was no threat to the pack or to them, and it took a long time.
Trying to make up for the time lost with the dogs, Byron took Aislynn on a whirlwind tour of the castle on the way to her suite of rooms, pointing out the guards’ barracks - including the courtyard where they would meet for practice - the dining hall, the kitchen, and the library. Her rooms were on the same floor as the royal suites, but at the other end of the building in the wing generally reserved for diplomatic guests.
When she crossed the threshold of her suite, thanking Byron for his help, Marja greeted her cheerfully.
“Welcome,” she said. “I have most of your things unpacked, and I've had a bath poured. You should hurry though, because I have the seamstress coming soon and dinner will likely be served not long after you’re done with her.”
Aislynn’s mind whirled, trying to catch up with all of the information Marja had just tossed her way. “Why a seamstress? Didn't I bring enough dresses?”
“Oh, you silly! You need a new dress for the Courting Ball. That is why you’re here, isn't it? At least officially? You want to look your best when you dance with the prince. Besides, I told you that you needed new clothes before we even left Evendell.”
Marja was definitely in her element, and her good mood proved it. Aislynn suspected that she’d be getting a new dress too.
Aislynn rolled her eyes at her friend, but said nothing. Instead, she looked around the reception room, noting the large windows and comfortable furniture. The well-appointed bedroom had a large bed, a good-sized wardrobe and currently, a large copper tub full of warm water. After a quick peek through the only doorway she hadn't explored, which revealed a smaller but no less luxurious bedroom for Marja, Aislynn rid herself of the uncomfortable green dress and slipped into the bathtub. She let herself soak for as long as she was able, then washed up quickly and got dressed in her best shift just as the seamstress arrived.
It only took about ten minutes for Aislynn to feel like a life-sized doll. Marja and the seamstress, who was a tall, thin woman named Anna, chatted like life-long friends and discussed Aislynn as if she wasn’t there, turning her this way and that as necessary to take measurements and get ideas.
“So I was thinking maybe a pale pink,” started Marja.
“Oh no,” Anna disagreed. “Her base skin tone is yellow, so a pink will not suit her. I think that a shade of blue would be better.” She held up a number of fabric samples, trying to decide which shade flattered Aislynn the most. “This one, I think.”
Then Anna started taking measurements again, while she and Marja discussed styles. It turned out that the style at court had recently changed, moving away from the tight sleeves and bodice that Aislynn found so uncomfortable. Instead, with the arrival of the hot weather, the style was moving to an off-the-shoulder sleeve, with a gathered bodice and a loose, flowing skirt. Aislynn was secretly thrilled, but Marja was only concerned with altering Aislynn’s current wardrobe to keep up with the new style, so Marja made an appointment with Anna for the next day.
Aislynn slipped off to dress for dinner, thankful to be finished with the whole ordeal. She picked a dress that most closely matched the current style, to make Marja happy, and rushed out of the suite before Marja could catch her again and torture her with more cosmetics and hairstyles. Cheta followed closely behind her, leaving Marja to catch up later if she planned to eat dinner with the rest of them.
When Aislynn reached the dining hall, she found that she was early, so she took the opportunity to tuck herself into a corner to observe the other guests as they arrived. She didn't have to wait long before Eryk and his friend appeared. She remembered the other man from the courtyard, and it was obvious that they were close friends. She couldn't hear what they were saying from her position, but she could tell from their body language that they were very comfortable with each other and were currently having a light-hearted discussion, joking and laughing. That happy-go-lucky attitude changed immediately when the next of the dinner guests arrived.
He was a middle-aged gentleman, haughty and self-important. He strode into the room as if he expected to be the center of attention, and he glanced over at the two younger men with a sneer and immediately dismissed them as unimportant. Aislynn wondered who he was to dismiss the heir to the throne like that. A woman who shared a very strong resemblance, likely a sister, and a young boy accompanied him. She was timid and uncertain, looking to the man for guidance. The child, however, was alert and full of natural curiosity, and he was the first to notice Aislynn and Cheta.
“Mother! Look over there,” he gasped. “It’s a real, live wolf!” He tugged free of the woman’s convulsive grasp on his shoulder and ran over. His grey eyes gleamed with excitement as he approached, entirely unafraid. Aislynn smiled and kneeled down to his level, Cheta moving forward with her, toward the boy.
“Why, hello there. What’s your name?”
“I’m Davin,” the little boy said proudly. “May I touch your wolf?”
“Yes, you may Davin. Her name is Cheta.” Even though Aislynn was kneeling beside the boy and speaking to him, she still heard the approach of the man he had arrived with, and she looked up as he approached. He scowled down at her as if she was something distasteful and grabbed Davin by the arm.
“Come with me,” he said. “You know better than to approach unfamiliar animals, especially wild ones. Have you learned nothing?” He nearly dragged the little boy back across the room as Aislynn stood.
Since she’d had attention drawn to her, she decided to approach the table where the others were waiting for the meal to begin. She nodded a greeting to Eryk, much to his companion’s amusement, and they all waited for the king to arrive.
When Tarren joined them soon after, accompanied by Collin and Byron, he smiled warmly at Aislynn and indicated that she should come and sit to his right. Everyone else took places at the table and the servants came in immediately with the first course.
Tarren turned toward Aislynn to speak with her between mouthfuls of soup. “So, my dear, welcome to Bacovia. Have you met everyone?”
“No, your Majesty, I have not yet had the pleasure.”
“Well, we shall remedy that. Here to my left is my son, Eryk, whom you've met, according to Byron.” Tarren’s eyes sparkled with that statement. Apparently, he found their initial meeting as amusing as Byron had.
“Beside Eryk is his friend, Branden. At the far end of the table is my nephew Davin, accompanied by his uncle, Lord Durham, and his mother, my sister-in-law, the Lady Cora. Byron, you have met, and beside you is Lord Collin, my chief advisor.” Aislynn nodded to each guest as the king introduced them, filing names and faces away for future reference.
“
My companion, the Lady Marja, was unable to accompany me this evening, but I’m sure everyone will be able to meet her tomorrow.” Aislynn was very curious to see what Eryk would make of Marja.
Dinner itself was a quiet affair, with little conversation. Everyone seemed ill at ease, and Aislynn couldn't figure out why. It set her on edge though, and made her very uncomfortable. It was a relief when the meal was over.
Durham, Cora and Davin excused themselves first, followed immediately by Eryk and Branden. With a look, Tarren gathered the rest of them, and the three of them followed the king to his study for a more private discussion.
“So you have had quite the whirlwind of a day, haven’t you Aislynn?” Collin asked, starting the conversation informally. “We are very pleased to have you here.”
Aislynn suspected that Byron had warned the two gentlemen about her ahead of time, since neither of them had seemed surprised to see her at dinner. She was glad that it apparently wasn’t going to be a problem.
“Thank you, Lord Collin. Your majesty, I have a letter for you, from my father.”
Tarren took the letter and read it quickly, his face becoming very serious as he did so. He looked up and addressed the three of them.
“It appears that I was correct,” he said quietly. “Jackob informs me that the tokens we found are the calling card of a guild from Cembrance. They are highly skilled and disciplined, so he also warns that we won’t be able to take one alive. Or if we do, the assassin won’t be alive for very long. Apparently, another attack will be coming soon, since the contract is not yet fulfilled. Finally, he notes that this guild is very expensive to hire, so the culprit behind the attacks is likely from the upper nobility.”
Tarren turned his face toward Aislynn. “And this is where you come in, my dear. When I wrote to your father, I explained to him that I did not want a replacement for Rupert. Instead, I wanted a guardian for Eryk, and you have apparently been selected for that job.”
“But your majesty—” Collin started.
“I will hear nothing more about it,” Tarren interrupted firmly. “The decision has been made, and I want Eryk to be protected. Byron, I guess it turns to you and the slightly more mundane resources of the royal guard to keep me safe.”
“We will do our utmost, as always, Sire.” Byron looked very disturbed by this turn of events, but knew that there was no point arguing with his king.
While Collin and Byron were looking at Tarren, Tarren’s attention was on Aislynn. After the way Byron had described her meeting with Eryk earlier that day, he had expected a reaction from her when he made his proclamation. Instead, she’d said nothing. In fact, she had a very puzzled look on her face.
“Is there something wrong, Aislynn?” Tarren asked, a little concerned by her expression.
“No,” she said abruptly, shaking her head. “I think that I’m just tired. It has been a very long day.” Aislynn, confused by an odd awareness she suddenly had, felt odd. She abruptly knew where Eryk was, and what he was feeling. It was very strange.
“Of course. Have a good night then,” said Tarren. “And welcome again to Bacovia.”
Aislynn smiled, and Cheta led the way out of the room.
Once she was gone, Tarren turned toward his most trusted advisors. “So,” he started, “what do we think of her?”
“I like her,” Byron spoke up quickly. “She'll be good for Eryk. She’s not like the timid wall flowers he’s used to.”
“I reserve judgment for now,” said Collin. “I haven’t seen enough of her to make up my mind. I’m sure she’s competent, even though it strikes me as somewhat unnatural to have a female in her profession. I wouldn't have thought that women had the…strength to take a man’s life. However, I know the reputation of her people, so I have no concerns about Eryk’s safety.”
“I’m curious to see what happens at the Courting Ball,” stated Tarren, with a chuckle. “Like you said, Byron, she’s very unlike the noble ladies Eryk’s used to.”
When the others left, Tarren picked up Jackob’s letter again. There was one part of the missive that troubled him.
It strikes me as odd that Eryk survived. The Scorpion Guild is highly trained and they don’t often leave their victims standing. It’s almost as if the attack on him was staged, and very expensively given that the guards killed the “decoy” assassin.
Tarren had no idea what to make of this statement, but if Jackob was concerned, then something was amiss. He may not be Tarren’s bodyguard any longer, but that sort of devotion didn't end simply because their roles had changed. The king knew that it would be an uneasy rest for him tonight.