Page 37 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Thirty-Two

ELANNA

E lanna had thought she would be prepared for the hundreds of gawking eyes on her when she entered the Great Hall, but if anything, ’twas worse than before. The courtiers and other visitors knew there was a StarSeer in Castle Sidra and had obviously been waiting in anticipation for her return.

She strode down the center of the Great Hall, everything feeling familiar and strange all at once.

A lady-in-waiting had rapped on her door two hours ago, holding a gown made of plum silk in her arms. She’d stepped in without waiting for Elanna’s response and had worked on making the StarSeer “presentable.”

Elanna didn’t know how it had been measured so expertly for her, but the deep purple silk clung to her as if it were a second skin.

Her golden hair had been arranged into an intricate crossing of plaits that ended in a tight knot at the nape of her neck.

She felt exposed. Her hair always hung down, and as of late, it had acted as a figurative shield against the memory of almost being strangled.

But she ignored that. Dashiell was the key to everything.

Everything .

The entire realm hung in the balance. She could go through anything.

Anything.

Her duty as Seer of stars was all that mattered.

She caught Daved’s eye, standing indirectly behind the sovereign next to Commander Kaff. On the opposite side stood Chancellor Griffith. Noticeably, Queen Ferika was absent.

The chancellor appeared nervous. Was he worried she’d do something wrong? It had been his idea for her to be here.

When she was finally seated next to Dashiell, the orchestra began playing again, blocking some of the crowd’s din, who were most likely speaking about her. Elanna exhaled.

“Stars be good, Lady Elanna; remind me to take lessons from you on how to make an entrance,” Dashiell said.

She let out a laugh.

“Here. This will help your nerves.” Dashiell extended a goblet of wine to her.

“Nerves, Your Highness?”

“You appear ready to lose whatever dinner you’re about to eat.”

Elanna studied the goblet with tentativeness. Her goal was to put the prince at ease. Would dismissing the wine offend him? Elanna accepted the goblet and took a sip. Immediately, she warmed.

She made eye contact with Hux at one of the far tables. He gave an incredulous stare before saluting her with his goblet while suppressing a laugh.

Elanna had a few more sips before pushing the goblet away. She was warm enough.

The dinner conversations surrounding her were idle chit-chat and endless gossip.

Even if Elanna had dared broach any topic of importance, no opportunity came.

But finally, the music started, and Dashiell offered her his hand and led her to the center of the Great Hall, where other couples also made their way.

“I am surprised that StarSeers are taught to dance,” Prince Dashiell said politely.

Stars. Not more pleasantries .

Mayhap ’twas the wine, but Elanna did not waste time.

“Your Highness. Your father knows that you send messages each day to Glyn.”

Had she truly come forth with those words?

For a split second, Dashiell’s breathing suspended. He rapidly blinked. “I know not what you mean, m’lady.”

“Do you think I would tell you that in jest? You are the very reason for my presence here.”

“So I am reminded.”

“We have little time to speak. Days ago, you almost confessed something to me. Did it concern these messages? Please, tell me. What are your misgivings? To whom do you send them?”

Dashiell spun her around, a royal smile masking his face. They whirled back together, and he took her by both hands. “And how am I to believe that you are not simply a spy for my father?”

They stepped back from one another, bowed, and clasped hands again, sashaying across the floor. “You have every right to question me. But you asked me if I would keep your confidence, and I promised I would.”

They traded partners, and Elanna used the separated moment to beg the stars for her next words.

Instead, she Saw Dashiell riding through the countryside. He was leagues from Asalle and nearly to his destination—a small town on the banks of the Adem River. ’Twas Glyn. His lady had traveled north to meet him.

His lady?

Dashiell clasped her hand again, circling her.

A strange smile crossed Elanna’s face.

He appears so happy. Stars. I was right all along.

“You do love another. And you’re—? My prince, you cannot leave again. ’Twill mean doom.”

The surprise that Dashiell had managed to disguise moments ago charged out of him. He dropped her hand and coughed into his forearm, regaining his composure. Elanna made an effort to keep her posture relaxed as she eyed the endless gapers around the Great Hall .

Dashiell gripped her hand—with more force than before—and held her waist in his other hand. “How did you learn this?”

Elanna’s eyes pierced his own. “Your Highness, I just Saw it.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Have you told my father?”

“What? Nay. I just Saw it. Dashiell, you cannot love another.”

The words sounded so foolish in her ears. Aye, she knew naught of being in love, but it did not seem to be the sort of thing that one chose, like picking ripe stellaberrie fruit.

Dashiell let go of her waist long enough to wipe his brow. “Worry not. ’Tis not as though I shall shirk my duties. I swore to marry Lady Wenonah, and I shall.”

“I would ask Your Highness why you did not tell your father that you had another lady in your favor, but we both know that you must marry someone from Grenden. This lady from Lenfore you love?—”

“Actually, the lady, Aven, is her name.” The prince’s countenance lit up when he spoke the woman’s name. “She is from Grenden.”

“But I cannot understand, Your Highness. If she is from Grenden?—”

The music ceased, and Elanna found herself cut off from her words and curtseying to Dashiell. His expression said everything. Cease talking.

In the rush of couples moving about the dance floor, everything slowed for Elanna, and she found she could not lift her feet.

The prince had already left her and was bowing to his next partner.

The music began anew. She found herself staring into the crinkled eyes of an older man who requested the next dance.

“Dance?” Elanna said the word as though ’twas foreign.

Her mind caught up, and she was swept away in the next dance, all the while attempting not to gaze at the prince or behave as if the world had tilted.

After the second dance, the older man kissed her hand. His brazen invitation for her dance brought a gaggle of onlookers to close in around her and begin asking her questions, most of which concerned the future .

She locked eyes with King Rian, who shook his head at the scene.

Someone grazed the back of her neck, and Elanna found herself shuddering and attempting to extricate herself from the crowd gathered around her.

“Lady Elanna, I believe this dance is mine,” a voice parted the crowd, and Hux stood there extending his hand to her.

She gratefully accepted it, and he whirled her away from the crowd who still shouted questions about their fortunes to her.

“My hero,” Elanna breathed out.

Hux’s dark eyes twinkled.

“I do not think anyone has ever said those words to me before.” Gracefully, he slowed to the rhythm of the music and turned her twice, Elanna all too aware that his hand touched hers, and his other hand guided her at the waist. “Did you learn anything?”

“Aye. More than I counted upon.”

Hux raised an eyebrow before his expression cut to someone in the corner. “That brother of yours is glaring at me as if he’d like to duel. Pity I do not have my sword.”

“Once an older brother, always an older brother.”

Hux scanned the room distractedly. “And what do you know of your brother besides his glorious rise to the Warins?”

“What do you mean?”

“The corridor. Remember.”

Elanna simpered. “He is obviously honorable if he’s guarding the sovereign.”

“Never acted dishonestly, eh?”

Elanna flashed to the memory of hearing the news of her father’s death. The death that she had Seen. The death that Daved had allowed to occur anyway.

“Nay.”

Hux nodded and continued his survey of the Great Hall as they came to the final steps in their dance. Elanna’s eyes followed, wandering over the many faces, both familiar and unfamiliar.

It had been almost a fortnight since it had occurred. But as Elanna allowed herself to enjoy this moment holding Hux’s hand, the rumble of the crack resonated through her mind.

It rattled a shriek from her.

The music ceased, and the Great Hall stared.

Panting, Elanna scanned the Great Hall, seeking the source, knowing already that the racket had come entirely from her mind.

“What happened?” Hux asked, squeezing her hands and searching her face.

She released his hands and smoothed her skirts. “Nothing. I think ’tis time I retired.”

The chancellor was suddenly next to them, followed by three of the sovereign’s councilors.

“M’lady, how may I be of service?” Chancellor Griffith asked.

From his height on the dais, King Rian regarded the scene. Whatever discreetness she’d hoped for between her and Dashiell, the nature of their conversation had clearly been observed. The sovereign wanted answers.

“I believe I am merely warm, Chancellor Griffith. I shall have my guard escort me back to my rooms.”

“Oh, but the sovereign would like a word, m’lady.” The chancellor’s face was taut in apology.

“Of course.” Of course he did. They started toward the exit.

“No need for your escort to follow,” the chancellor said, wringing his hands. “His Majesty bids you come alone.”

Elanna nodded at Hux, who openly knitted his brows together at the sovereign’s council. “I’ll be outside your rooms, m’lady.”

The chancellor led Elanna down the stretch of corridors to where she thought was the direction of the Royal Solar, but at one point they turned right instead of left. The four men seemed to know where they were headed.

“Are we not going to King Rian’s solar?”

“Nay, m’lady. The sovereign wishes to speak to you in a more private place.”

A more private place? Unease slipped itself around her. She halted. “Mayhap we could ask His Majesty to speak to me in his solar. That way, I may more easily find my way back. I do not know this part of the castle.”

The chancellor tapped his fingers together. “I understand, m’lady. But I do not wish to go against the sovereign’s orders.” The others appeared as nervous as Griffith. Well, she certainly didn’t wish to cause trouble.

“Very well.”

Soon, Elanna recognized from the faded velvet walls that they were where she and Hux had been earlier. Everything became quiet as they traversed the muted corridors.

Griffith had just unlocked and was opening a door into a cold room when?—

“Chancellor Griffith,” High Commander Dirk said, as he rounded the corner from the opposite direction. He gave Elanna a glance. “King Rian awaits Lady Elanna in his solar.”

“His Majesty informed me he wanted this meeting here,” Chancellor Griffith said. “My deepest apologies, m’lady.”

One of the council members muttered something about Rian often changing his mind as of late.

“I beg you not to speak of my ineptitude, m’lady,” Chancellor Griffith said.

Elanna nodded. As they retraced their steps, she thought the curtain covering the door swayed. She longed to peek behind her but did not dare.

When they reached the doors to the Royal Solar, one of the sovereign’s other stewards—Elanna couldn’t remember his name—stood outside with Hux.

How was he already here? Mayhap he’d not been behind the curtain.

“Only Lady Elanna is to enter,” the steward said, focusing solely on Griffith.

“What?” he stammered. “His Majesty will want me present to take notes.”

“I have my orders, Your Grace.” The right corner of the steward’s mouth rose slightly as he spoke to the chancellor .

“I would listen, Your Grace.” Hux examined his nails idly. “I cannot imagine you want to disobey him.”

The council members disappeared with no retort. Griffith followed.

Elanna entered the solar and found the only light in the room gasping from the dying fire in the hearth. The curtains had been drawn. The room felt empty.

“Your Majesty?” Her fingers traced her collarbone. Since that dreadful night in Tam’s Ford, Elanna had fought her frustrations at being wary when entering a room alone. She reminded herself that Hux was outside the door; she could call for him.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Movement from behind caused Elanna to whip around, ready to scream.

The prince stood there with his hands in the air. The scream caught in her throat.

“Prince Dashiell? What are you doing?”

Dashiell’s smile dropped. “‘We haven’t much time. My father stepped out momentarily, so I slipped in here. I need your aid.”

“You have it.”

Dashiell approached the door and tilted his head to listen.

“What is it?”

He whispered, “Who stands outside?”

“Only the steward and my escort, Sir Hux.”

“You trust him?” He leaned into the door.

“Aye. He is the Wolf’s own man.”

Dashiell nodded as if satisfied. “As I told you that day, I no longer trust some in this castle.”

“Who?”

“We shall get to that. I’m certain with Griffith being dismissed, my father will be here any moment, and I have more to tell you. Aven is from Grenden, but I will be forbidden to marry her nonetheless.”

“Why?”

“Because she is a peasant.”