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Chapter seven

Nerys

A n hour later, the R?ll and demons and rituals were pushed from her mind as Nerys found herself in one of the lodge’s sitting rooms sitting with her torso unnaturally wedged against a chair back.

This room had a few staid bookshelves, though only a couple shelves on each were used for books.

One shelf had perfectly posed bird skeletons, another reptile skeletons, and a third had—were those jars of hair?

The room’s windows were framed by heavy black brocade drapes, which hovered over ornate black and dark indigo rugs.

Expensive furnishings, but still…unnerving.

After the two siblings positioned her, Nerys sat still, trying to keep a cloth-bound book balanced on her head and both feet planted firmly on the ground.

No wonder court ladies died so young—their lives were abject misery.

But this was how ladies— rea l ladies—sat.

Demon summoning and bloody vengeance aside, running into the woods was starting to sound tempting again.

In the meantime, Idris and Fina quizzed her on her knowledge of Ca’mailian nobility—or more accurately, her lack thereof.

“You mean to tell me you can’t name all of Abnar’s children?” Idris asked, his hands on his hips like a long-suffering governess.

“And you can?” Nerys asked.

“Yes.”

“I can too ,” Nerys snapped, almost losing control, of the book. “I just told you. His eldest and heir is Kor’yitz Adelyna, 44 and then her younger brother, Yitz’mal 45 Aherin.” Fina snorted. Nerys ignored her.

“Is that all?” Idris asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re missing someone,” Idris said. “A lot of someones.”

“Who? Did the R?ll remarry?”

“Not quite.”

“What? We celebrate the R?ll’s children’s birthdays. 46 I know who they are.”

“The bastards.” Idris rubbed his face. “You didn’t mention the bastards. His many, many bastards.”

“Oh, yes. They’re there too.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Quite so. Now, what are their names?”

Oh. Shit. This was ridiculous. Nerys crossed her arms. “Why would a lady, a ward, know about the R?ll’s bastards?”

Fina hacked out a laugh from behind her.

Idris glared over Nerys’s head. Again. The first time had been when Nerys learned she’d have to wear new voluminous undergarments that restricted her breathing, unlike her practical stays.

The second time was upon discovering that she was going to have to get some facial hairs removed—by force.

She now had plucking to look forward to, like a dead chicken after a hot bath.

Idris resumed pacing. He’d wear a path into that fancy Aklian rug at this rate.

47 Nerys avoided looking at his face—his unnaturally perfect face and that smooth nearly white hair.

Screw Cefin—if Idris had been in Raven’s Crest, she wouldn’t have noticed anyone else.

Whatever happened, she didn’t want him thinking she was just some uneducated peasant.

“Any relative of a king,” Idris said slowly, “is someone worth knowing. If you go to court, and you’re invited to attend an event hosted by Lesser Royal Bastard 48 Oldren—will you know what to do? Or how about—”

“You’ ve made your point,” Nerys said. “But why would a ward be invited to a court event?” A series of thunks sounded behind her, which could only have been Fina banging her head against the table.

Idris didn’t so much as slow his stride.

“You won’t be a servant, you’ll be a ward .

Legally, it’s something between being the lady’s daughter and her companion—she’s responsible for you, in every way.

Sometimes they’re named their guardian’s heir.

People will want to talk with you, be your friend, in the hope that it endears them to the lady…

and the hope that you may have a notable inheritance of your own.

” He stopped and met Nerys’s gaze. “So, no, you won’t be emptying chamber pots or cleaning fireplaces—you’ll be expected to socialize.

Unfortunately.” He began pacing again, this time staring at the window as he walked.

“While your ‘history’ as the daughter of a respected knight—or Sword Man, as you know them 49 —in a rural part of the lady’s lands will excuse most of your accent, and perhaps some manners, you’ll be expected to at least know who.

The. King’s. Children. Are.” He clapped with each word, the point impossible to miss.

Nerys nodded, sending the book clattering to the ground.

Great, not again. Groaning, she bent over, picked it up, and set it on her head once more.

There was no point in asking yet again if she could be done with this.

Nothing would ever be done. Ever. “Alright,” Nerys said, keeping her head unnaturally level.

“Your point has been made. Is the Sword Man real?”

“What?” Idris asked, turning on his heel to face her.

“The Sword Man. My ‘father.’ Is he a real person?”

Idris nodded. “He was. His name was Abaddon Niveh. The lady had promised to act as guardian to his daughter, Callidora, in the event something happened to him. Signed, witnessed and everything.” 50

“And the daughter…?”

“Dead too. The same sickness. It was their death that gave us this idea. ”

A dead ward? This kept getting more ridiculous. “Won’t someone put it together? That the person I’m supposed to be is dead .”

“Yes,” Fina said from behind her, earning yet another scowl from Idris.

“Idri, she has to know that she won’t have long to accomplish her task.

For a few reasons.” If only she could turn around and read Fina’s expression.

Though that expression was probably disgust, especially since Fina seemed to have a habit of using that nickname when she wanted something from Idris.

Instead, Nerys ignored her. It was for the best

Idris rubbed his chin. “You’re right, Nerys.

Someone will put it together, eventually, that the person you are pretending to be is dead.

Especially once you start getting close to the king, you’ll attract attention.

” Idris began wandering absentmindedly around the room once more, stopping briefly to “admire” the bird skeletons.

“We’re hoping you’ll accomplish your task before then.

You’ll have a couple months, at least, before it becomes a problem.

The winter will delay news, and the ward was not a prominent figure—it will take time. ”

“Great,” Nerys said. “So, I have limited time to convince the court I’m a lady, somehow get the R?ll to pay attention to me, and kill him, all before the court realizes that I’m a fraud, and somehow come up with a way to escape at the end of it all.”

“Pretty much,” Fina said. “It’s not too late for you to run. Oh wait—it is.” She snorted for good measure.

Nerys paled. Was it really too late? Did they guess what she had planned? Dammit, they probably did. Why did she think she could outsmart them and find a way to escape? They were high-ranking Cerdorani—not easily distractible cowhands.

“You won’t be going into this unprepared,” Idris said in a reassuring voice. “We have maps of the palace. Routes, tunnels, passages—we’ll give you every bit of assistance to get you out. I’m confident we can.” He paused before adding, “I know you can do this.”

He did?

Nerys nodded out of habit, sending the book to the ground again with a curse. The rest of Idris’s proof had better be damn good—his plan for escape wasn’t the most reassuring. But his apparent faith in her…

She bent to pick up the book when Idris said, “Leave it. We can work on that later. We have more to cover.”

“Like the names of the R?ll’s mistresses and all their non-royal children?” Nerys chuckled, which died as no one else joined her. Idris’s face was solemn, and Nerys’s stomach sank. “You’re joking. I have to know that, too? ”

“Just wait until we get to eating,” Fina said, glee dripping from every word.

“And talking. Standing. Walking. Oh, and dressing. The court has some rituals I think you’re going to love .

Not to mention the rest of the court—learning about the Kor’yitz’s High Maids alone will take hours.

” 51 This time, absent the book, Nerys was able to observe Fina’s satisfied expression.

“And don’t worry, Nerys. You have roughly a whole two months to get this right. ”

Nerys swallowed with an audible gulp. Being a real lady was an unexpectedly arduous task.

Ladies may have spent their days lounging while servants cleaned their homes, cooked their meals, and washed their bodies—and apparently removed body hair—that luxury came with a lifetime’s worth of pointless facts and unnecessary pain.

But Nerys had one question. “What’s going to happen to the lady?

Even if I escape, they’re going to know I’m her ward. That I’m not, I mean.”

“You care what happens to her?” Fina asked.

“Yes. I do.” She really did—the lady had provided her with food, after all.

“The lady knows the risks,” Idris said. “It’s also why we chose someone whose daughter she never met. Someone who can be easily proven to have died beforehand. She has a story if pressed—she was the unwitting victim of Cerdorani trickery.”

Idris didn’t offer any more, and his answer seemed reasonable. But why would a Ca’mailian move against her R?ll, and ally with their enemy in doing so? Though, how was Nerys supposed to know what motivated a noble?

“Alright,” Nerys said, picking up the troublesome book and setting it on the table. “What’s next?”