Legacy Chapter One
The working title for this book is called Legacy and it kicks off the weather warden series of books. Some elements of this will look familiar if you read Leagacy’s Price, but don’t go into this expected the same characters. And now, without further ado, I’ll like Lady Liz and Chapter One do all the talking I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer- This story is still in the draft process meaning typos are highly likely.
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Her eyes still felt like they were burning even though the dream had become nothing more than a distant memory. Lady Elizabeth Bryne, or Liz as she was called by friends, stood in front of the washroom sink with water streaming over her face in an effort to drive the sensation away. In the end, all she ended up with was dripping wet hair and face. At least the feeling was lessened for now, though she didn't expect it to last long. The dreams were becoming more frequent and always the same. The chaos of battle combined with the fire and smoke that had made her eyes sting. Soldiers swarmed around her, though her focus had locked on a dark figure standing atop the ruins of an old castle. A stabbing pain rushed through her body when their eyes locked, then she awoke.
Liz lifted her head, the redness of her eyes made the emerald green and silver dark and vivid. She reached for a towel with a resigned sigh, then stumbled back into her bedroom. Her blanket and sheets were a crumpled mess on the bed. The lights from the city streamed through the partly open blinds. Cars rumbled down the street, their lights joining the chaos. Liz sank down and watched them for the longest time in the hopes it would lull her back to sleep. Still, her mind fixated on the dream. Was it a scene from the attack that had taken her memory or something else? And if it was her memory returning, why was she suddenly starting to recall events almost a year after she recovered from her injuries?
Regardless of what it was, she wasn't going to do any good if she didn't get a good night's sleep soon. Letting the towel fall to the floor, she slipped beneath the blankets and closed her eyes.
The clock on the mantle echoed in the silence of her bedroom. Liz let out a groan of frustration as she turned over in an attempt to find a comfortable position. She knew if she called Mrs. Pital, the hedgewitch who served as her family’s housekeeper, she would have something whipped up in a flash to allow her to drift off and enjoy a dreamless sleep. The older woman already was fretting over her enough without adding to the reasons. Liz clenched her jaw. No, she was going to tough this out if it killed her. As the sleepless hours ticked by she just hoped she wouldn’t regret her vow.
~*~
Thanks to the arrival of summons from her Great Grandmother, Liz was able to escape before Mrs. Pital was able to see the damage her lack of sleep had done. Knocking on the door, she smoothed the fabric of her coat to collect herself.
A stern-faced human greeted her once it opened, “M’lady?”
“Dworran, is she in?”
“Yes, she’s in the drawing room with the King,” He stepped aside to admit her.
She allowed him to relieve her of her coat before pulling off her gloves and setting them on a small table beside the door. She started toward the stairs at the back of the entrance hall, then paused. “Are she still receiving people, or is it a private discussion?”
“I was given no instructions that said they were to be left alone.” He replied.
“Terrific.”
“Shall I announce you?”
“No, she should be expecting me.” She started up the stairs. He likely had other matters to attend to anyway.
Large tapestries hung along the stairs. Most were solid colors to contrast the rather neutral walls. A particularly large one displayed a series of images commemorating events over the course of her Great Grandparents’ fifty years on the throne.
On the second floor, a plush carpet muffled Liz’s footsteps. Statues and other art were scattered along the corridor. Muted voices came from behind a door with two footmen stationed outside. They straightened as she approached, but didn’t even allow her to pause a moment before swinging the double doors open.
Liz balled her fists as she stepped inside the room. Her Grandfather, King Alexander, stood. “Liz!”
“Grandpapa,” she curtsied, then kissed his cheek, beaming. “Grandmama,” she approached the older woman seated in the corner. Gnarled hands clutched a silver walking stick. She studied Liz with her wise, gray eyes.
“How are you, my dear?”
Liz curtsied to her. “I’m doing splendidly.” She sat down across from her.
“It’s fine.” Her Great-Grandmother, Siana, bobbed her head. Liz knew better; the matriarch hated to be kept waiting. Years and years of Segen and the rest of the world rushing to meet her needs had made her rather expectant; despite not having ruled for a decade. “Your Grandfather and I had some business to attend to ourselves.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting”
“Oh, no,” Alexander was quick to reassure her. “We were just finishing up.”
“It wasn’t too serious then?” Liz tried to get more information.
“Nothing that won’t keep until he returns from his trip, or so he thinks.” Siana said, her voice tense.
“We won’t know anything further until I go,” Alexander replied.
“I can’t believe you’re still going. It’s no secret that those countries hate one another and look for any reason to fight. Who isn’t to say that those… things aren’t a ploy to drag everyone else into their bickering?” She snapped.
Liz watched the argument in silence. The moment she drew attention to herself, they’d likely shut down the discussion.
“You know it’s necessary,” Alexander insisted. “So, there’s no reason to subject Liz to that unpleasantness.”
“I don’t mind,” Liz tried to make herself seem uneager. “I was the one who didn’t let Dworran announce me.”
“Trust me, my dear, you’re better off in the dark on this one. Besides, you and I have more immediate things to discuss.”
“Oh, yes, your note.” Liz knew a losing battle when she saw one.
“The Duke of Caya is having a get together this evening to celebrate the start of the social season. It would do wonders if we had a bit more of a presence there. Unfortunately, my grandchildren have other obligations, and your grandfather is set to leave in a few hours. Therefore, I was hoping you might accompany me.”
The command was barely disguised. “What time?”
“Seven o’clock.”
Liz nodded in confirmation and stood. “I best get ready then.” King Alexander followed suit. She gave his cheek another kiss. “Have a good trip. When will you be back?”
“I expect it won’t take too long, a month at the most.” He replied.
“I look forward to your return. Safe travels.”
“Thank you, m’dear.”
Liz turned toward her grandmother and leaned in to embrace her. “Try not to be late,” Siana told her. “I will see you tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Liz lied, making her escape as calmly as possible.
~*~
King Alexander and the Queen Mother waited in case of further interruptions. The older woman pursed her lips several times in irritation. “And you’re sure we’re wise to keep this from her still?”
“We have it in hand. All we have are rumors right now. Why worry her?” He replied, slumping slightly in his seat.
“If it's only rumored, why are you rushing down there?”
“Because sometimes it is necessary to know your enemy before they become trouble. Besides, if I can a jump on it, then it might stop trouble in its tracks.”
“I know this. You pretend I didn’t have to take similar measures when I was Queen. Still, I can’t help but worry about what lies ahead.”
His smile did little to comfort her. “Oh, Mama. Segen has weathered so much worse than this and come out on top. And Liz is much stronger than most give her credit for.”
“Then why aren’t we telling her?”
“Because we all decided that we would only force that burden on her if we had no choice. If it helps, think of it being similar to when you wouldn’t let me get involved in official business until it was absolutely necessary.”
“I concede the point. I just hope you’re correct in your assessment.”
He chuckled and refilled his teacup. “So, you’re taking Liz on the town.”
“Indeed, I am. You get so few invitations at my age. She’ll be entertaining company, even if our hosts are dull.”
“I know you, Mama, you have alternative motives.”
“I’m doing it as a favor for her parents! They wanted her to get out after being cooped up all winter.” Siana knew her tone was exaggerated, but her son wouldn’t call her on it. “If we happen to see a suitable match during our socializing…”
He shook his head. “Well as much as I would like to see your plans unravel, I’m also glad I’ll miss it.”
“Who is to say it will?” She huffed in a rather undignified manner.
“Because Liz is Liz. She couldn’t be less interested in society if her life depended on it.”
“She can’t hide from her social expectations forever. She might not be her father’s heir, but she does need to fulfill her role as part of a noble family, which means finding a husband.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
King Alexander glanced at the clock. “I best be off. There are still a few stops I have to make before I leave.” She stood and embraced him fiercely. He pulled away from her, unshed tears shone in his eyes. “Do take it easy on Liz tonight. Otherwise, we might never get her at an event again.”
“I make no promises. One man’s hard time is another’s easy one.” The smile on her face fell. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.”
He kissed her cheek, “Always, Mama. Always.”
~*~
Liz breezed through the door to the Blood Moon. The host moved forward to take her coat, but she politely declined. Her eyes searched the room until they found who she was looking for, Morrigan Nightshade, the co-owner of the establishment. Morrigan leaned against the dark wood of the bar, her emerald eyes keeping a wary eye out for anything out of place. Her burgundy hair shone beneath a jeweled headband. Slender fingers absently played with several long necklaces that dangled down her front. Their eyes finally met and Morrigan nodded toward the door in a shadowy corner of the room where her office door was. Liz stepped inside and settled in the informal seating area to wait.
“I thought I’d have to leave a note at Briar House to get your attention.” Morrigan burst through the door, grabbing a pile of papers on her way. “That, or physically drag you over here.”
Liz burst out laughing. “That would have been a sight; Lady Liz dragged through the streets by the owner of the Blood Moon. Then again, perhaps I should give you the chance. It would get people talking about us and we want that.”
“That we do.” Morrigan agreed.
“Still, I haven’t been that bad. I only arrived a few days ago and you know I had summons waiting for me.”
“If you say so.” Morrigan gave her a critical eye as she sorted through the papers. “First thing’s first, the orders I spoke of in my letter.”
Liz took them. “Yes, bold move mentioning these. What if someone else opened it?”
“Why would they? It was addressed to you.”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve had to track down so many correspondences when I was helping Mama with things this winter. One sister ended up with a stack of letters while my brother ended up with another. And it was all addressed to Mama.”
“I see your point. Why don’t you just tell them you own the Blood Moon with me?”
“Papa knows, though he hasn’t said anything. Mama might too. I just can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of telling my siblings. They might be fine with it, but why open myself to more ridicule?”
“It’s not that bad, is it?” Morrigan asked.
“I’m fairly certain my dear siblings believe that my lack of memory has addled my brains. Most days are fine, but things like the family honor get thrown around if I act in a way that is not socially acceptable.” Liz stared at the two piles she had made while they talked. “I’d say this one is our priority.” She slid the right stack toward Morrigan. “Of course, it would be best to take care of it all at once.”
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Morrigan cut her off. “We knew this would be a slow process and you need your allowance for your own expenses; especially if you’re going to be in Ravenwood for any length of time this Season.”
“Fine, but the end of the month is coming up soon and I will give you what I have left.” Her tone left little room for arguing.
“I’ll accept those terms.” Morrigan agreed. She set the papers aside. “So, are any more of your family coming to town this Season?”
“Only Papa is, but he’ll be busy with the Council of Lords.”
“At least you’ll have a bit of quiet then.”
Liz laughed. “I doubt it. Great-Grandmama already summoned me to accompany her tonight to the Duke of Caya’s get together. I’m fairly certain she’s hoping to have me catch some eligible bachelor while we’re there.”
“Why? You’re not the heir, so what’s the pressure?”
“Alliances and ties.” Liz leaned back in her seat. She offered her friend a smile. “If there is one thing the royal family takes seriously, it’s that. Unfortunately, the grace period my injuries afforded me is up, so I am officially considered a spinster again. Say, you’re going to this event, aren’t you? I could use an ally. Or at least someone I actually want to talk to.”
“No, I haven’t been invited sadly.”
“Really?” This took her by surprise. While not a noble, Morrigan was a respected business owner and her magical talent for illusions was valued.
“You said it’s at the Duke of Caya’s, correct?” Morrigan asked and Liz nodded. “Well, that explains it. He never thinks highly of anyone who isn’t noble.”
Liz offered a thin-lipped smile. “Just goes to show when things matter, I guess. I know I’ve seen him commission things from you.”
“Well, when you need a task done some things are easy to overlook.”
“How true.” Liz frowned. “Now I regret agreeing to go. He’s probably going to be insufferable.”
“Come up with an excuse not to go.”
“If only that would work. She’d find a way around any excuse I’d come up with.”
“That determined?”
“Determined doesn’t begin to describe the Queen Mother. The earliest I’ll be able to slip away is during cocktails.”
“Come back here when you’re able to get away. The others are going to be stopping by tonight as well.”
“How can I refuse? Then you can properly catch me up on all the gossip.”
Morrigan smiled at her and outstretched a hand that Liz clasped. “Then I’ll hold you to that.”
~*~
Liz ran a hand over her dress to smooth the fabric. The pale blue material was silky beneath her fingers. It a bit longer than was fashionable, falling to her knees, but she didn’t mind. It was a far cry better than the elaborate ball gowns and tight corsets she sisters described wearing just five years ago. According to them the corset didn’t get you, then the gowns threatened to trip you if you weren’t careful. Liz studied her face in the mirror and picked up a makeup brush. If she was going to be on time she had best get moving.
The sun was low in the sky by the time she left the house. One by one, the streetlamps bathed everything in a dim glow. Her car pulled up to the curve and the driver hurried around to open the door. She offered a smile as she settled inside. The car lurched forward, then stopped. It lurched one last time before joining the line of traffic. The noise of the engine was only broken by the occasional horn blast. As she rode, she used the time to gather her thoughts in preparation for the night ahead.
“M’lady.” Liz struggled to keep from jumping when the driver spoke. He stood with the door open, but for how long he had been there she couldn’t be sure.
She stepped out only to suck in a sharp breath at the rush of cold air. Snowflakes fell silently over the nobles that ascended the steps to the Duke of Caya’s home. While Spring was officially here, winter had to have at least one final say. Liz offered those around her a polite smile and joined their procession.
The Duke’s home wasn’t too different from her Grandmother’s. Its rooms were spacious and the filled with expensive pieces of art. The foyer was crowded with footmen and noble alike; the former relieved the latter of their outerwear in a precise choreography that was just shy of chaos. Liz shrugged off her coat and straightened her gloves.
She looked around for a familiar face. Two Faeren Lords cut across her path. They were so deep in conversation she was the one who had to stop abruptly to avoid colliding with them.
From the foyer, the attendees spilled into the formal drawing room. Her Great-Grandmother was still nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected. She had a reputation of being fashionably late. Several people looked in Liz’s direction as she walked through the crowd, but didn’t approach. Most would find it unnerving; unsure of what they had done to deserve such shunning. For Liz, however, it meant she controlled what interactions she would have. Which hopefully meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with anyone.
“Lady Elizabeth.” A cool voice greeted.
Liz dipped into a curtsy and looked up at the tall man before her. The Duke of Caya had all the appearances of being a human, but the pointed ears and personality of a typical Faeren. He wore a crisp set of tails which Liz knew had been freshly tailored for the event. His dark hair was smoothed back and tied into a long tail at the base of his skull. The only jewelry he wore was a large signet ring on his left hand. “Duke Caya.” She greeted.
“I’m so pleased you were able to join us this evening. You have been sorely missed.”
“No, I wasn’t, but I made sure I kept this year’s schedule open.” She crossed her fingers. He seemed to believe it since he beamed at her.
“I’m very glad you did.” Something behind her caught his eye. “Have you had the pleasure to meet Lord Arclac?” He motioned for someone to join them.
“Only by reputation, Your Grace.” Liz replied. The Lord was infamous in Briar’s Port since his ships frequented the city. As such, her father had numerous dealings with him. He also had a fair bit of infamy as being one who gained his title through business, not birth.
The man bowed to them. His light brown hair, like the Duke’s, was tied back in a tail. But he kept his beard trimmed in the latest fashion. “It’s an honor to meet you.” He told her.
“And you. My father speaks highly of you. Your crews are apparently some of the best behaved and you’re always fair in your business dealings.” She offered with a smile.
“It’s our policy. Otherwise, you’ll fast find yourself without ports to dock at.”
“Of course.”
Duke Caya politely smiled at them. “If you two will excuse me, duty calls.”
Left alone with Lord Arclac Liz felt an unfamiliar silence wash over them. She knew she was failing at being a good courtier, but she found herself struggling to come up with any worthwhile conversation. Anything she thought of seemed a bit too dull for this particular Lord. His storm gray eyes darted around the room as though searching for something himself. When his eyes did settle on her she saw restrained curiosity in their depths.
“Are you staying in Ravenwood all season?” Liz asked, playing it safe.
“Not all of it. I base myself out of a little village near the southern mountains, so I prefer the warmer weather.” He looked at her. “Do you prefer Ravenwood to Briar’s Port?”
“I don’t actually. While I spend a good deal of time here because of the family, I prefer Briar’s Port. I can only take so much of the bustle of the city.”
He considered her for a few moments in silence. “Odd.” He commented at last.
“What’s odd?” Liz asked.
“Most your age and status would prefer Ravenwood without question. It’s the social hub of society and anyone worth taking as a husband would be here.”
“I suppose many would like nothing more than to find a match during the Season and settle here. I have no need for any of that right now.”
“I take it you don’t care for the dance of courtship or society?”
For some reason, his words set her teeth on edge. “I never said that. I simply prefer to keep things simple and have no need to pursue a husband right now.”
“Her Majesty, Queen Siana, Queen Dowager!” A voice announced before he could reply. There was a soft rustling of cloth as the room hushed and gave her the greeting she deserved. Liz rose and noticed her companion had bowed rather stiffly, as though he wasn’t used to the motion. It seemed rather unlikely given what she knew of Duke Caya. Only those with the best manners would receive an invitation. Then again, maybe it was really himself he was talking about when he spoke of not caring for the dance of society.
She offered him a polite smile. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Arlac, I should go and greet my Great-Grandmother.” She made sure to use the familial title so he wouldn’t feel he was being abandoned for someone of a greater rank.
“Of course.” He withdrew with a bow.
Alone again, Liz wandered through the socializing nobles. Most were huddled in close conversation so they could be heard in the crowded room.
“Liz, darling.” Her Great-Grandma greeted.
Liz curtsied. Beside Siana was a rather haughty looking Faeren couple dressed in their finest. They looked a little annoyed at their time being interrupted. “How are you, Grandmama?”
“Very good, I just wish your Grandfather could accompany me.”
Liz recognized a cue when she heard it. “Well then, I hope I can provide an acceptable, familial company.” The difference was made so her present company couldn’t find an insult, but also make Liz’s presence tolerated.
“I’d like that very much, my dear.” She turned to the couple. “Where are my manners? Have you met Lady Liz yet?”
“We haven’t had the pleasure.” The man replied.
“Well then—” her Grandmother started.
“If Her Majesty, my Lords and Ladies would be so kind,” Duke Caya called from across the room. “Dinner is served.”
“We should follow.” Her Grandmother told her; she turned to the couple. “We’ll chat later.”
They nodded at her but followed behind the pair. Through the far door was the formal dining room. A long table was centered in the room so the guests could move easily while they sought their seats. Liz glanced at a place card to see that seating was arranged by perceived importance, though rank also played a role. Her Grandmother was close to their hosts in the center, but Liz’s name was nowhere to be seen. The Faeren Lord and his wife wasted no time in taking their seats beside the Queen Mother.
Liz silently retreated further down the table toward where she was likely seated. She was starting to have doubts when she saw a makeshift card bearing her name at the very end. Her companions were some minor lords and ladies who held only small pieces of land and influence. In other words, no one important enough to be heard by the rest of the table. Liz settled in her seat, hands folded in her lap. Only the men would remain standing since her Great Grandmother, the highest-ranking noble present, had taken her seat already. Eventually, the seats around her filled.
“Lady Elizabeth.” A man greeted as he took his place at her side. “A pleasure to see you here.”
“You as well, Lord Bilarn.” He was the Lord of Brookscavern. Like Lord Arclac, he bore signs of being in the sun and hard labor. Both of which explained why he was down at this end of the table.
“How has your esteemed father been? I’ve heard the winter hasn’t been kind to him.” He asked.
“He’s doing much better, thank you for asking. He will be in the city for the Council.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I can’t imagine a Council without him sitting on it.”
“I don’t think he’d let one pass without appearing at least once.” She told him.
Any reply was cut off as the men took their seats and the soup course began. Footmen filled wine and water glasses while others ladled the soup into pristine bowls. Liz dipped her spoon in the creamy concoction. It was full of mushrooms and rice, perfect for weather that hadn’t quite yet turned to Spring. She waited for the others around her to take their first bites before lifting her spoon. For the longest time, only the clink of silver against porcelain could be heard.
“Have you heard,” One of her other direct companions, Lord Aelnor, broke the silence. “About the troubles in the South?”
“I have,” Lord Bilarn seemed to consider his words carefully. “Invasions and revolts. To be frank, I wonder what we can honestly do about it all. Nothing has worked so far.”
Liz positioned herself more upright in her chair. She opened her mo-uth to urge them to continue speaking when Lady Aelnor spoke.
“Enough of that talk. What if the Queen Mother hears you? The King just went down there to broker an agreement. And what of Lady Elizabeth?”
“Thank you for your concern, Lady Aelnor, but I understand the danger all too well. As does my Great Grandmother—it is the service we sometimes must give the realm.” Liz set her spoon back in its proper place and arranged her expression into as solemn of one as she could manage.
“Of course.” Lady Aelnor agreed.
A large tray of fruit appeared at Lord Aelnor’s side. He scooped out a bit before dismissing the servant. Liz took some for herself as well, though she noticed the only things Lady Aelnor and Lord Bilarn partook in was the wine that accompanied the course. Liz adverted her gaze. As a rule, Segen nobles didn’t drink for pleasure in public. It was clear her companions were using the current course to not appear improper.
“Lady Elizabeth,” Lady Aelnor began. “What in the realms have you been up to these days? I swear I haven’t seen you at an event since your coming out ball a few years ago.”
“I have unfortunately found my days occupied. First, we were mourning the Queen and then obligations in Briar’s Port kept me away.”
“Oh, yes!” A newcomer joined their conversation. It was none other than Lord Arclac. “I heard the charity drives were a huge success.”
“Yes,” For some reason his praise made her cheeks redden, but not from modesty or embarrassment. She folded her hands in her lap to keep them from telegraphing her agitation but was forced to reveal them to take the main course. It consisted of chicken along with wild rice and mash potatoes. She was just spooning the gravy on her plate when Lady Aelnor continued their conversation.
“Good for you. Not too many would take on charity these days. I heard from the Duchess of Caya that you were quite… hands on. A bundle of activity, is how I believe she described it.”
Liz’s eyebrow rose. It was odd for the Duchess of Caya to take such an interest in charity. The woman was infamously self-absorbed and only did such events when it benefited her position. “I did what was needed to run a successful event.” Liz said. “It was good work and I was happy to help out.”
Lord Arclac coughed quietly, as though clearing some obstruction. His companions studied him with concern.
“Are you alright, my Lord?” The Butler asked from his station along the wall.
The coughing continued for a few moments. “Just lovely. I swallowed wrong is all.”
His goblets were promptly refilled to ensure he had enough liquid to clear the obstruction completely. Lord Arclac nodded his thanks and took a sip from the water goblet. The conversation then returned to more general topics. Liz was glad that they had left it behind so easily. She listened to the Lords discuss their tenants and Lord Arclac’s new business ventures. The discussion sparked a debate between the different styles of investment management, one being directly in the holdings while the other in economic opportunities. Liz wasn’t sure which side was right, but Lady Alenor joined her husband’s cause with some passionate statements on the matter.
At last, the final sips of wine were drunk and the plates were taken away. The group migrated back to the drawing room where they would mingle once more before calling a night. Liz used the opportunity to make her way back to Siana. The Queen Mother was relaxing beside the fireplace, surprisingly alone. Liz sat beside her before someone else could pull either of them into conversation.
“Enjoyable meal, wasn’t it?” she asked her.
“Quite.” Liz lied. “Riveting conversation.”
A Faeren noble passed by their hiding spot. “Oh,” Siana reached out as though she was going to grab him. “Have you met Yualia yet, Liz?” He stopped in front of them and gave a bow to Siana. “He has a holding not too far away from Briar’s Port.”
“You just became Earl of Makali, didn’t you?” Liz asked. She winced at the flash of sadness that crossed his face.
“Yes,” he replied. “From my father.”
A pang of embarrassment shot through Liz. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m surprised that you know of my small town. It’s barely a blip on a map.”
“Why would you think that?” Liz asked.
“Most our age prefer the cities since they have plenty of excitement.”
“Small towns have their own charms.” Liz said.
“I’m pleased to hear you say that. It is always disheartening to see so many find a place you’re fond of as disappointing.”
“I agree. It must be beautiful.”
“Oh yes, there are waterfalls and endless forests. You must come down some day to see it in person.”
“Perhaps.” Liz looked around. “You must excuse me, I need to fetch a drink for myself. I’m feeling rather parched.”
“I can get you one, so you don’t have to leave.” He offered.
“It’s no trouble. I could stretch my legs a bit after supper anyway. You don’t mind if I leave you in Lord Makali’s company, do you, Grandmama?”
“Not at all, my dear. My wine could use some freshening up as well.”
Liz took her glass from her. It was still partly full, but she had a feeling Siana knew she needed the escape. Perhaps the gesture was simply a Lord wishing to show another noble their lands, but she had heard enough disguised invitations toward her sisters to have doubts. By the end of such visits, if you did not have the proposal already, you were days away from it. Liz didn’t want to take the chance. Thankfully, the selection of drinks was across the room so if she dawdled enough he’d be gone by the time she got back.
Carrying them back was awkward, but she managed it. Navigating the crowd was at least a bit easier now that the meal was over and some had darted away to other obligations. Halfway across the room, she froze and about spilled her burden on a nearby servant. Lord Makali was still firmly entrenched with her Grandmother, now seated at her side. Dread ran through her. Liz had hoped to get through the evening with no broken hearts and now it seemed she had no choice but to do just that.
“You look like you’ve just seen your own death.” Morrigan’s voice whispered. “You suddenly didn’t gain the gift of Sight, did you?”
Liz whirled around. The drinks in her hands threatened to slosh over the rim of the glasses. “Morrigan! I thought you weren’t coming!”
“Lord Marlah came by after you left and requested my presence. He had other obligations for supper, but we’re here for the rest.”
Liz offered a grateful smile. “Thank the Gods for that. I’ve needed you.”
“Has it been that bad?” Morrigan asked.
“Just stay clear of a few people—like Lord Arclac.” She gestured toward where the man in question was deep in discussion with another Lord.
“Trouble?”
“Not necessarily. He just… I’m not sure what to make of him yet. One minute he’s fine and then he goes cold. Almost cruel.”
Morrigan pulled them to a stop. “Cruel?”
“Perhaps it’s the wrong word. Still, he seemed mocking of my work in Briar’s Port. I know it’s not a business like what he is used to or even the Blood Moon, but I do take pride in it. And it is work that needs to be done or no one would raise hardly any money.”
“No need to defend yourself to me. I know how it is. What exactly did he say?”
“It was more what he did than said. He had a coughing fit to demonstrate his feelings regarding my motivations behind the work. As though I’m not allowed to give a damn because such events are expected of me.” The last part was said in almost a whisper.
“Careful. This isn’t the Blood Moon and such language is bound to get you into trouble.” Morrigan urged.
“You’re right, you’re right.” Liz sighed. She closed her eyes for a few moments to calm down. When her eyes opened she scanned the room for her Great Grandmama. The former monarch was alone at last. “Come with me to deliver this.” Liz gestured to the wine glass in her hands. “Then, if you’re finished with Lord Marlah we can make our excuses.”
“I can’t go near the Queen Mother! You would never hear the end of it!”
“In this case, I’ll gladly take the risk.” Liz made the best pleading face she could muster. “The only ones who would care don’t talk to me anyway and you could hold it over my head forever.”
“Oh, my. That has all sorts of possibilities, but I’m not sure…”
“Morrigan.” Liz drew out her name.
“Fine. I’ll come with. It’s your sanity.”
“Thank you!” Liz led her over to where Siana sat.
“I was beginning to think that you had forgotten this old lady.” Siana proclaimed. “What kept you?”
“The Duke has attracted quite the crowd.” Liz handed her the wine. “Grandmama, might I present Miss Morrigan Nightshade.”
Morrigan curtsied. “Your Majesty.”
“Oh, yes,” Siana said. “You run the Blood Moon, don’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Morrigan looked toward the floor. Liz smiled encouragingly, though she didn’t blame her friend for her sudden shyness. The Queen Mother was intimidating when you were family, and downright terrifying if you weren’t.
“It’s interesting in this day and age to see someone your age in such a profession.”
“This isn’t your era, Grandmama.” Liz broke in before Morrigan could take her words as an insult. “Women don’t run off for husbands as soon as they are eligible. Many try to make a name for themselves.”
“They tried to do that in their own way, a husband just was the primary means.” Siana protested. “Though I suppose you could argue that women are striking are doing it a lot more now.”
“Oh,” Morrigan turned to Liz. “You must excuse me, but I should go check in with Lord Marlah. He’ll be wondering where I vanished to.”
“I’ll join you. If Grandmama doesn’t mind, that is.”
She saw Siana’s shoulders shake. “Go,” she urged her. “I doubt I’ll be alone too long.”
Liz’s lips turned into a wide smile. She fought to keep herself from skipping after Morrigan. Just before she was out of earshot she could have sworn she heard a chuckle come from Siana. Liz put it from her mind and turned toward Morrigan. “Thank you.”
“Next time you’re on your own.” Morrigan smile vanished. “That talk about me owning the Blood Moon…”
“Leave it be, she didn’t mean anything by it,” Liz replied. “She was just commenting on the changing of the times.”
“I know, but it is still bothering me. It’s not bothering you?” Morrigan smoothed the fabric of her dress.
“No, but maybe it’s because I grew up with her views, however out of date they are,” Liz suggested. “I’ve learned to ignore it for the most part these days. There’s little use in arguing with her, but she does yield.”
“That is true, I suppose. Though if you ask me, she was just being polite.” Morrigan turned her attention toward the group ahead of them. “Lord Marlah.”
“Ah, Morrigan. I was wondering where you vanished to, but I see you’ve brought over Lady Elizabeth.”
“My Lord.” Liz inclined her head.
“Might I also introduce the Duke of Riase and the Earl and Countess of Winstom?” He gestured to his companions.
The two women curtsied; neither were on good enough terms to have a more informal greeting. When Liz rose, she noticed Lady Winstom’s thin lips twist as though she was trying to hold something back. There were wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Her husband looked down his nose at them.
“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Morrigan said.
“Never!” Duke Riase proclaimed. “We were simply discussing the Council. You saved us from ourselves.”
“Work on a night like this?” Morrigan chuckled. “I imagine they will start the dancing soon. And whatever other entertainment Duke Caya has in store.”
“I find myself agreeing with the tart.” Lady Winstom said. “Work has a time and place, and this is not it.”
The group started at her statement. Lord Marlah joined Liz in her cry of outrage. Liz turned to her friend. Morrigan shrunk back but still stood tall.
“What?” Lady Winstom asked. “That is what she is, isn’t it?”
“Miss Nightshade runs a respected establishment.” Liz protested. Her jaw was clenched and she could feel her nails dig into her palms. “What about that justifies your statement?”
“An odd set of friends. I wonder what the Queen Mother would say when she hears of the company her great granddaughter keeps?” Liz doubted any member of their group misheard the threat in her words.
Motion at Lady Winstom’s side drew Liz’s attention. Her husband shuffled but remained silent. Liz wasn’t sure if that was because he agreed with his wife or just realized they were outnumbered.
“My Lady, is this necessary?” Lord Marlah asked. “I asked Miss Nightshade here and do not appreciate her being attacked either.”
“See? I am not the only one who finds your actions to be rude.” Liz said.
“Is it wrong to be upset that our events are diluted with every social climbing socialite in this city? Especially when they’re part of the rubbish that passes off as business owners.” Lady Winstom asked.
“I suppose it’s only fair given there are nobles that are actually carrion birds in disguise.” The words left her mouth before Liz could stop them.
Lady Winstom’s eyes could have shot ice at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Ladies, please!” Duke Riase cried.
“No! She insulted me personally!” Lady Winstom shouted. She spun around and shouted. “Duke Caya! I demand a space to duel!”
Their host appeared at their side as though he materialized there.
“M’lady?” his voice was a smooth as the silk of his bowtie. “What is the problem?”
“She insulted me!” Lady Winstom repeated. “She called me… a heinous thing!”
“While I do not agree with the Lady’s choice of words, it was Lady Winstom who threw the first insult toward Miss Nightshade, Michael.” Duke Riase said. “Lady Elizabeth’s choice of words was a schoolyard insult, hardly a reason to call a duel.” Liz heard Lord Marlah murmur his agreement.
“I see…” Duke Caya stroked his beard. “What was the insult, Lady Briar?”
Liz’s eyes widened. Her mother was referred to as Lady Briar, never her daughters. She would be the only one until her eldest brother married and his wife became Lady of Briar’s Port. Duke Caya was reminding her of where her allegiances were expected to lie. “I compared the temperament of some of our nobles to carrion birds, but did not refer to Lady Winstom directly, Your Grace.”
“And you confirm this?” he asked the men.
Duke Riase and Lord Marlah nodded eagerly. Lord Winstom pursed his lips. “Be that as it may, it was very clear who she was referring to. My wife is quite justified in her request.”
Liz looked around. By now their little disagreement had drawn a crowd. “Let them fight it out, dear.” A woman joined Duke Caya and looped an arm through his. “We were going to hold them tonight as it was. Let them open the entertainment.”
“Very well.” He turned to the room. “My gentle lords and ladies. Lady Winstom has challenged Lady Briar to a duel in response to a slight.” Liz’s lips became a thin line at his continued use of her mother’s title. “They will start our evening’s entertainment.” He turned to the two women. “After you ladies. We’ll begin in ten minutes.”
Liz started forward, Morrigan darted to her side. “Oh, Gods, Liz. What did you just get yourself into?”
“Trouble, as usual. I just wish I knew how much.”
~*~
The dueling hall was on the opposite side of the house from the drawing room. A long cushion padded the floor while a variety of weapons sat in racks along the wall. Lady Winstom removed her shoes and handed them to a servant on the far side. The other nobles crowded in; many took seats at tables that had been set up for them, among them Siana. Liz took her place at the other end of the hall, shut her eyes, and groaned. Even if she came out of this the victor Siana was going to have a few choice words for her behavior.
“M’lady.” The servant interrupted her internal annoyance. “Your shoes, if you would, please.”
“Right.” Liz murmured. She slid them off her feet and handed them to him. The servant withdrew with a bow.
Alone again, Liz set about stretching the muscles that had grown tight during the argument. Even though duels ended when one person surrendered or was put into submission, she would need her wits about her. Lady Winstom wouldn’t be holding anything back. Liz knelt on the floor and extended a leg, reaching to her toes before swapping to the other. The move was a bit awkward in her dress, but she managed it.
Not for the first time did Liz wonder about the intelligence of engaging in battle wearing such finery. Custom didn’t allow for them to change. According to her father, it was because contenders had to be ready to face the battle as they were. The exception to this, of course, was the ladies’ shoes. Heels were downright dangerous when you were dodging and slashing at your opponent. To keep things fair, the men were also allowed to remove their footwear, but only a few did so.
Movement from Lady Winstom caught her eye. The other woman was examining the weapons offered to her. Liz sized up the weapons at her own disposal. They were allowed only one choice, though they could be different from one another. And both had ample time to make an informed decision. Most hosts ensured their selections were the best available and well maintained, but they were never personal weapons. At the sight of a sword in Lady Winstom’s hand, Liz focused on the last task before her. While the sword would give Lady Winstom an advantage, she preferred daggers herself. Selecting two, she slashed the air a few times before letting them rest at her side. Liz strode forward and came to a stop a good distance from the center of their battlefield.
Lady Winstom finally moved into position. In her shadow, her husband stood separate from the crowd. Even at this distance, Liz could see the darkness that covered his face, though his expression remained neutral. The crowd sipped their drinks as they chatted.
“Ladies.” Duke Caya approached them and silence fell. “You are to have a fair fight. Understood?” The women nodded. “Begin!”
He withdrew. Lady Winstom’s blade glinted in the harsh light of the electric lamps that were set around the room. Liz blinked and she was on her. Their blades scraped along one another before Liz yanked hers free. She skipped back a few paces. Darting forward, she lashed out toward Lady Winstom’s side. The Lady twisted away just in time.
She pressured Liz back toward the boundaries of their little contest. The sword rose above her head. “I had expected better.” Lady Winstom murmured. “From someone with such an important family in our land.” Her blade whistled down toward Liz.
A loud ring reverberated through the room. Liz’s arm vibrated from the effort to keep the sword away from her face. Unable to break through, Lady Winstom released her attack, then knocked one of the daggers away. Liz lashed out with a foot to try and trip up her opponent. At the edge of her awareness, she could hear the crowd stir at her actions. Liz tested for an opening. Lady Winstom’s blade parried hers with ease. Liz felt a bit unnerved at the response; Lady Winstom didn’t strike her as a skilled dueler.
Liz gave a loud yell as she twisted around and attacked from the side, but it was easily blocked and knocked out of her hand. Lady Winstom advanced in a series of sharp jabs, Liz barely able to keep out of range. She stumbled, falling backwards. Liz brought her arm up to block as Lady Winstom’s blade screamed toward her. A crack of thunder filled the room.
“This fight is over!” Duke Caya bellowed. Others gathered around, their voices combining into an unrelenting roar. “What is the meaning of this!”
“Dishonorable, even in battle!” Lord Winstom cried.
Liz opened her eyes, though she hadn’t remembered closing them. Somehow, Lady Winstom was flat on her back several meters away.
“Where did you hide the wand?” The Duchess of Caya demanded.
“She only had the weapons on her,” someone else pointed out. “I saw them check her myself.”
“And we all saw the lightning form around her hand,” someone else added.
“A trick of deception!” Lord Winstom was indignant. “Lightning doesn’t appear out of nowhere.”
“You all have forgotten the stories.” Siana’s voice was quiet, but it broke through the panic with ease. “There was one other who could easily do just that.”
“Ma’am I believe you must be mistaken. Those are just old stories!” Lady Winstom insisted, having recovered from her shock, though her hair still stood on end.
“Then just where are you suggesting the wand is? Her dress is about as far from the flowing ballgowns of yester-year as one can get and unless someone has invented an invisible wand that we have yet to hear about...” Siana replied, a faint trace of amusement in her voice.
The nobles around them murmured like a beehive. She could see several of them jockey for a better look at her and the dagger.
“This is just a trick by this honor-less heathen!” Lord Winstom proclaimed. “She must answer for this blatant breaking of the rules!”
Silence descended like a fog over the room. Liz felt her face flush in anger, but she managed to hold her tongue. She could see the pointed tip of Lord Winstom’s ears turn purple as he glared at her. Liz met his gaze, determined to not give him the satisfaction of making her squirm.
“If Duke Caya is willing, I suggest we consider the match over and Lady Winstom the winner since Lady Elizabeth was set to yield. Whatever just transpired here, it was a clear accident, not malicious,” Siana suggested. “Though it has given us much to think about.”
Duke Caya looked at the room at large. “I agree with Her Majesty and propose we all move to the drawing room and continue the evening.” He motioned for them to proceed out of the room, then turned to Liz. “I’m not sure what you were playing at. I know you were upset at being called on your insult, but this is beyond…” He shook his head, turned on his heel and strode away.
Liz remained where she was and then she felt a hand on her arm. Morrigan’s green eyes shone with concern. “Come along, Liz.”
Liz allowed her to guide her out. The hall was clear; most eager to make themselves scarce. “What about Lord Marlah?” she asked, her voice void of care.
“He’ll be fine. You need me more right now.” Morrigan turned toward her with a frown. “My friend, you might want to make try and get some control…”
“What? Oh?” She stared small sparks that appeared around her hand.
“This has honestly never materialized before?”
“Never,” Liz said. “I don’t even know what caused it just now.”
“Well, I suggest focusing on ending the spell If it’s anything like my magic, just concentrating should do it.”
Liz’s brow furrowed as she struggled to figure out what sequence of thoughts would make it vanish. Just go away. Please, I just want you to go away.
“Perfect!” Morrigan put an arm around Liz and guided her toward the exit. The footmen helped them into their coats with a bit more speed than usual. Liz took a step toward the door when she looked at Morrigan in horror. “My Grandmother. I should…”
“Lady Elizabeth Bryne.” Siana’s voice rang out behind them. Liz winced at the level of disapproval in it.
“Grandmama—” a hand silenced her. At the edge of her gaze, she could see the servants scurry from sight.
“Now, I should say that I do not condone your actions up there. You never should have placed yourself in the position to be drawn into a duel in the first place.” Liz felt the tips of her ears heat up, the warmth traveled down her face to her neck.
“Your Majesty…” Morrigan protested, only to stop when the hand rose again.
“I should be saying that, and that’s what they want me to say, but I cannot. Lady Winstom was… how do you put it? She was out for blood.”
“How do you know that, Grandmama?”
“The way she attacked you. She did not care that you were blocking her with your flesh. And that’s to say nothing about her nearly knocking your head off before that point.” She leaned in close as she spoke. “Such a foolish thing to demand a duel over that insult. Unadvised on all fronts. But at same time, I should almost thank her.”
“Why?” Liz asked.
“Because she has revealed that something that I had believed to be lost to the ages has indeed returned to us.” She smiled at them. “But this is not the time or place to have such a discussion and I have to give dear Lord Winstom a lesson on decent manners. Good night, Liz. We’ll chat very soon.” She pivoted on her heel, then paused and glanced at them over her shoulder. “Good night to you as well, Miss Nightshade. I hope I see you soon.”
Before either of them could respond she was back up the stairs and out of sight. They stood frozen in place for several minutes before realizing they were still in the middle of Duke Caya’s foyer.
Morrigan looped her arm through Liz’s. “Did she just…”
“Yes, I believe she did.” Liz guided them out the door, suddenly a bit more ready to face whatever plans the night had in store.
~*~
Loud trumpets, accompanied by other brass instruments greeted them the moment the Blood Moon’s doors opened. Their tempo was lively, though the singer was performing in Faeren which tended to be a rather somber, precise language. Smoke hung in the air over the tables. Liz coughed but followed Morrigan through the crowd though than once she had to avoid a flailing limb of a dancer.
Morrigan led them into her office where two merchants, Ennan Cana and his partner who simply went by Liam, were seated. Beside the two men was a woman called Selene Rivers. She shone like a sun compared to the two brunette men at her side.
Selene was a courtier. Almost a noble in her own right, but lacked the resources to complete the step from one to the other. So, she spent her time making connections at parties, but was extremely selective at which she would attend. Regardless, the Season was in full swing and she maintained a busy schedule. Which made her presence here even more peculiar.
Ennan and Liam stood until Liz sat down while Morrigan retrieved a bottle from a shelf along the wall. They waited in silence while Morrigan poured a healthy amount of the amber liquid into five glasses and joined them.
“So…” Morrigan began. “What brings you here tonight, Selene?”
“Do I need a reason?” she asked. “I had nothing planned for tonight so I thought I would see my friends before the obligations started. Plus, I knew these two would be here.”
“These two,” Ennan said to Liam. “See what she thinks of us?”
“Indeed.” Liam’s gravelly baritone was difficult to hear with the noise that filtered in from the main room. “Then again, we don’t exactly get invitations for people.”
“What are you implying?” Selene asked.
“Nothing.” Liam insisted.
“How about a toast?” Ennan said. He picked up one of the glasses. “To a successful Season for us all.”
They clinked their glasses over the center of the coffee table. The harshness of the liquid made Liz’s mouth twist. Her reaction was nowhere near Selene’s who shuttered as she attempted to drink it all at once.
“Careful,” Liz warned her. “Morrigan doesn’t water it down when it’s back here.”
“I know…” Selene wheezed, then coughed. “Say, where in the Realms are your shoes, Liz?”
Liz stiffened. Now that attention had been drawn to their absence she could feel the fabric of the carpet beneath them. “You see…”
“A duel,” Liam approved.
“It didn’t turn out well?” Ennan asked.
She could feel her face heat under their gazes. “It was over quick.”
“Morrigan, weren’t you at the Duke’s party as well?” Selene asked. Morrigan nodded. “Since we know how modest Liz is, we’ll ask you. How was her duel?”
Liz looked toward Morrigan in a silent plea to have her keep her silence. “Like she said, it was quick.”
Selene sighed. “You aren’t going to confirm what I heard then?”
“What did you hear?” Ennan asked.
“Likely gossip and rumors,” Liam told him. “Nothing more.”
“They are rumors,” Selene admitted. “But given the source was also at Duke Caya’s party I would say they have more truth than fiction.”
“What was it then?” Liam asked.
“That apparently our dear Lady Elizabeth made quite an impression during her duel. Historic even.” Selene gave them a smug look.
“What are you talking about?” Ennan asked.
“Well, first off, according to Lady Aelnor, it began when Liz insulted Lady Winstom somehow.”
Liz’s face burned. She fought to keep herself firmly planted in her seat. “All I did was compare some nobles to carrion birds,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I can’t help it she thought it meant her.”
Their companions burst out laughing. Even Morrigan’s shoulders shook. “What in the world possessed you to do that?” Ennan asked.
“That was partly my fault.” Morrigan rose to her defense. “It appears as though Lady Winstom takes offense to my kind of person attending the party. She called me a tart. Liz and Lord Marlah rose to my defense.”
“Was everything as Lady Alenor described it? Lightning came to Liz’s aid seemingly on its own?” Selene asked.
“That’s what it looked like,” Morrigan said. “It looked like it was over since Liz was disarmed, then lightning gathered around her hand.” She frowned “I don’t know if whatever it was knew Liz was in trouble or not, but I wonder if the Queen Mother was right and Lady Winstom was out for blood.”
“The Queen Mother was there?” Ennan asked.
“I was supposed to be keeping her company during the party,” Liz said. “We see how well that worked out.”
“What was her reaction to the incident?” Liam asked.
“Much to my surprise, she seemed glad,” Liz replied.
“Truly?” Selene asked.
Liz nodded. “We couldn’t discuss it too much before we left, but she mentioned she might have to thank Lady Winstom.”
“So, what happens now? I imagine Lady Winstom will let this go down lightly.” Ennan asked.
“What can she do?” Selene replied. “Even if she’s still offended by how the match went, it was declared over with her the victor.”
“Magic that deals with weather, well at least one type,” Liam rubbed his chin. “Have you heard of it before, Morrigan?”
“No, I haven’t, and the Arcane University drew all sorts. It might be one of those that only do apprenticeships however.”
“Whatever it is, I imagine I’ll find out soon enough.” Liz pointed out.
“What I don’t understand is why they never told you that you had magic,” Liam polished off his drink.
“They might not have wanted to harm her healing process,” Ennan said
“Maybe they didn’t know,” Selene said. “I know of quite a few in Court who didn’t develop their powers until much later than most mages.”
“Liz is double the age of even the late bloomers,” Morrigan pointed out.
“Her family could be like Ennan’s about his. Overprotective and controlling,” Liam suggested.
“Whatever the reason.” Liz cut in. “You can be certain that is one of the first questions I’ll be asking my Grandmother.”