Page 16

“Why do you look as if your favourite hound just died?”

Talac queried, settling into the chair beside Brandth’s bed.

“Worse, I’ve just had a second pair of hunting boots destroyed, thanks to this Gods forsaken wooded hell.”

Brandth knew he shouldn’t pout, but the sight of his friend looking tanned, relaxed, and walking on two solid dependable pain-free legs irritated him beyond measure.

“A second pair of boots?”

“The first pair were cut off me, after the hunt. And today, I was forced to watch as the local bootmaker destroyed my second best pair, all the while telling me tall tales of how he and the blacksmith, who for some reason had to be present, were going to provide me with a walking boot.”

“That makes no sense.”

“That’s what I said. But they insisted they knew what they were doing. Taking measurements of my injured leg. Muttering things about struts, padding and metal bands all the while.”

“Sounds like you had a busy morning.”

“Oh, it didn’t end there. Then a master woodworker turned up to take measurements of his own. Had me waving my arms around and holding them above my head like a lunatic. Swore he shall provide me with crutches that will make it feel like I’m walking on air.”

“To be fair, a crutch might prove of some benefit to you.”

“Whose side are you on? Even Raschion has turned traitor. Bad enough handing over my boots, but he stopped by to inform me that several ladies had volunteered to alter some of my trousers so I might wear them over the boot.”

“Well that sounds help-… I mean horrendous, how dare they try to make you fit for travel and lessen the burden on you as you continue to heal from your broken leg.”

“You… you’re right, I’m being difficult and everyone is just trying to be helpful. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Don’t give me that look. I know I’m behaving… no different than you when you broke your ribs, and spent two weeks cursing everyone and everything, and being nothing but petulant anytime anyone enquired after your health.”

“So, when should I inform the men to be ready to travel?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. And a good thing too, we don’t know what conditions will be like on the roads or how crowded. Even with good luck, we shall only just make the first day of the end of summer festivities.”

“I… thought we might need to spend more time here than that… because of your injury.”

Interesting, Brandth eyed Talac carefully. His friend’s expression was no different than normal, except perhaps the sparkle in his eyes might have dimmed ever so slightly. Was Talac… could Talac have found something more here at Gloomenthrall than a mystery to solve?

“We’ve had little time to share confidences over the last few days. Tell me, what is the Beast of Gloomenthrall really like?”

“Alia?”

Alia, was it?

“It’s remarkable really, the entire set up here. And she manages it all. I’ve mentioned the many thriving businesses but not the people. She cultivates their skills and talents. And by doing so perpetuates the success of the Lair, whilst earning the undying loyalty of its inhabitants.”

“Smart. Savvy. A head for business, leadership, and a crack hand at hunting. But what about the woman, what’s she like? I have heard she’s a giant. Is she pretty?”

“She’s no giant.”

Interesting, Talac was a little defensive of his new… friend?

“She’s no taller than I. And I would not consider her pretty… that sounds too bland a descriptor. But nor is she classically beautiful. It might sound strange but she hums, not the sound, but with an energy, a vibrancy, that immediately makes her the focal point of any room.”

Brandth had been mulling over whether to issue a candidate invitation to Alia ever since Perri had made the request of him. At times amused, appalled, but mostly baffled by the very idea. And now he was doubly so. A woman such as Talac described did not long for the back stabbing politics and falseness of the Golden Palace. More importantly, she would not be looking for a Prince to cleave herself to. A husband who would rule over her decisions, and take charge of her wealth and property.

Why did the Beast of Gloomenthrall… and Perri, he couldn’t forget how determined she’d sounded when she insisted she would be accompanying Alia – why did the duo wish to visit Court? What… mission, yes, for some reason that struck Brandth as the right word, what mission lured them to the hallowed hallways of the Golden Palace?

Something… someone, was their target. But what or whom? Talac? Could Alia have fallen for his rough charms? Rough indeed. Besides, Brandth thought a woman of Alia’s independence and backbone would not choose a path of subterfuge if she wanted to win his friend’s heart.

Plus, if she truly sought to pursue Talac, then throwing her hat into the ring in a bid for the Prince’s hand in marriage in no way aided her.

No, that couldn’t be it.

Yet clearly something was going on between the twosome. The admiring spark in Talac’s eyes when he mentioned Alia could not be denied and now must be factored in to Brandth’s decision making.

Perhaps he was going to regret this. But Brandth always went with his gut.

“Oh, and make sure the men give the carriage a good airing out before we travel. We shall be accompanied by a candidate and her chaperone.”

Talac nodded, showing no interest whatsoever in whom Brandth had chosen, his expressionless mask once more in place. Captain of the Guard, under orders, doing his duty. Brandth could only pray he was there tomorrow to witness his friend’s reaction when Alia and Perri joined them.

The journey to Pallene promised to be a very interesting one. Perri might be determined not to share with Brandth the real reason why she and Alia desired to travel there, but he wished the Beast good luck in trying to keep secrets from Talac when he sensed a mystery right under his nose.

Yes, the trip to the Golden Palace was going to be very interesting indeed.

* * *

Hell. Pure hell. There was no other word to describe this never ending nightmare of a journey. And they hadn’t even been on the road for a full day of travelling yet. Brandth grit his teeth as the carriage lurched right, left, and then to be contrary, left again. Even with his leg resting up on a plump cushion and stabilised in his newly re-worked boot with metal spokes up the sides and padded cushioning within, little fingers of pain shot through Brandth with every turn of the wheels.

“This is unbearable.”

“Keep still.”

“How much longer?”

“Do you have something more important you could be doing?”

“I could be napping. They say sleep is nature’s best healing agent after all.”

“If you sleep this late in the day, you’ll never sleep tonight.”

Brandth stared down at Perri kneeling on the floor of the carriage, the scent of her perfume teasing his nostrils. Her waspish tones at least were reassuringly back to normal. Though he resented that she didn’t appear to be more affected by the jolts and lurches of the carriage. Instead, she seemed to have a natural ability to sway in time with the dratted vehicle. Such an expert at it that she was able to sew unbelievably straight seams in the shimmering blue material currently draped over Brandth’s frame.

“If anyone hears about this…”

“Back to tired old threats again? Honestly. Who would I tell? And who would believe that Lord Brandth De’Luca masqueraded as a dressmaker’s dummy in his spare time?”

“Ouch.”

“If you sat still, I wouldn’t prick you.”

When Perri had joined him in the carriage soon after the sun broke the horizon, Brandth had been beyond pleased. His mysterious wraith still insisting upon wearing that ridiculous scarf pinned over her face. He’d imagined he would have hours, days even, to wear away her stubbornness and uncover all her secrets. Why the scarf? What did she and Alia hope to achieve at court? Was it illegal? Did they need help?

Yet, no sooner had Perri settled across from him before pile after pile of cloth and sewing implements were handed in, almost leaving no room for Perri to sit.

She’d spent the first hour of the journey rearranging the piles to her satisfaction and thoroughly ignoring every conversational gambit Brandth attempted. Finally settling upon a sapphire blue fabric for her first project. Then the cutting began. Followed soon after by the sewing. All the time Brandth peppering her with questions which Perri distractedly ducked and weaved, her attention clearly on nothing but creating suitable Palace attire for Alia.

How Brandth got roped into helping he wasn’t too sure. He blamed sheer boredom. And the stupid idea that if he participated in the project, Perri might be grateful enough to hold an actual conversation with him. But other than telling him to sit up straight occasionally, or raise an arm higher, she said very little. Their arrangement feeling distinctly one sided, as Brandth had yet to determine what he got out of it.

They didn’t stop for lunch, Perri handing over a cold cheese pie and sharing a flask of water with him. Though his new crutches, two of them, and both padded under the arms, came in very useful when Brandth had to manoeuvre himself out of the carriage for the comfort stops granted them mid-morning and mid-afternoon.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m no expert on women’s fashion, but these clothes you’re making, they appear to be quite… different than what I have seen the ladies at Court wear.”

“Exactly. Can you imagine my sister in pastels, flounces, and sporting dainty accessories? Her height and lack of… airs, will cause a stir as it is, we might as well lean into her uniqueness rather than try to hide it or fight against it.”

“Smart. But the incorrigible gossips are going to have a field day. And I doubt they’ll be kind.”

“Kind? Hah, do you think we care about words?”

There was something in her tone, a tinge of… anger? Hurt?

“Words can fly straighter and truer than any arrow when launched with malice and intent.”

Brandth reminded.

“Agreed, but words cannot cut flesh and they help us gauge our enemies goals. Even careless words provide a window into a person’s true nature.”

Perri futilely searched for the scissors in her sewing basket.

“But people lie all the time.”

“True, you deal with aristos across the Vallas Realm, all who plot, plan, and manoeuvre for more wealth, land or marriage proposals, how do you tell the lies from the truth?”

“My gut mostly. And their eyes. Some will look at you too directly, almost never wavering in their eye contact, daring you to disbelieve them. Whilst the gazes of others flit around the room, never resting, ensuring they are not missing out on a better prospect… or victim.”

“Hmmm.”

Perri held aloft the prized scissors, cutting the dangling thread before looking up at Brandth finally, her scarf presenting nothing but an opaque dove grey mask.

“It must frustrate you then, not to see my eyes.”

She gestured for Brandth to shrug off the material.

Sinking back against another cushion he watched as she resumed her seat across from him, head bent now, all her focus on the blue fabric in her lap.

“I don’t need to see your eyes to know when you’re lying, Perri. Thankfully, you have another tell.”

“Oh?”

He had her full attention, her head raised, looking his way.

“You don’t seriously expect me to share that information with you, do you?”

“You have nothing.”

She scoffed after a moment.

“Really. Then how about we play a little game? I’ll ask you three questions. At the end of which I’ll advise whether you speak true or false.”

“That sounds too childish by half.”

“Sacred?”

“Of course not.”

Brandth hid a smile at her huffy waspish response. His trap had just snicked closed.

“Excellent. Let us begin. First question. Up to this point in your life, what achievement are you most proud of?”

The silence stretched so long Brandth began to doubt Perri was going to participate until finally she issued an exasperated huff, setting aside the fabric she had been working on.

“My medical qualifications.”

“Have you ever left Gloomenthrall for a significant amount of time prior to this point? Say longer than a month?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And lastly, I ask if whatever calls you to the Golden Palace is more important to you than your ego, your pride… or your life?”

“You have a distinct penchant for drama, this trip is nothing but a lark.”

“Let’s see. False. True… False.”

He stared at the dove grey blank canvas before him, no expression to help him tell if his guesses were correct. Yet, there was a tightness across Perri’s shoulders and the slightest of flinches when he dropped his opinion on her final statement – false. He had assumed as much, but it was nice to have it confirmed. This trip meant more to Perri than her own life.

“What a ridiculous game.”

Perri picked up her current project, bending her head, giving it her full attention, even though the setting sun and that almost opaque barrier she wore would have meant she could barely see what she was doing. Oh, yes, he’d rattled Perri to her very core. Her breathing a little off, too fast.

He was almost sorry for upsetting her. But Brandth despised falseness and secrets. His entire career had been spent ferreting them out and dragging them into the light. Fingers itching to reach over and rip that scarf away from Perri, look into her eyes, gaze upon her visage and… help her.

Damn it, all his instincts were insisting Perri was drowning before his very eyes. Whatever was pulling her to the Palace was clearly dangerous, and more important than her own life. She would take absurd risks he sensed, to achieve her secret objective. In fact, she was just the kind of self-sacrificing martyr that he usually stayed clear of… except it was Perri this time. Waspish. Tart. Kind. Funny. Full-bosomed. Dedicated. Smart. Innately gentle. Perri.

“You know, in my experience, secrets have a way of unravelling at the most inopportune times. They are unwieldy and have a life of their own, dragging you down deeper and deeper.”

“Feel free to unburden yourself, Lord Brandth, I, personally, have no secrets. I am nothing but a simple healer on her way to Pallene to act as chaperone for my sister, Alia.”

“Please, even if you won’t admit the truth out loud, just between the two us, do me the courtesy of not continuing to throw smoke my way. I may not know exactly what you hope to achieve by this visit… but I want you to know that if you ever need my help, you only have to ask.”

“Psshh. You really did miss your calling for the stage. I have told you tirelessly that-”

“Don’t, just don’t. If you can’t speak the truth, at least do not perpetuate the lies. They make my ears all but bleed. I fear you’re about to play a game with players who do nothing but lie, cheat, and pit others against each other for mild amusement. And that is just the bridal candidates and their entourages. Remember, everyone else at the Palace has survived and flourished there and they are generally not welcoming of newcomers. Especially those who they consider unique or different. They cling to the status quo like shipwreck survivors, because in the familiar they know where they stand and how much power they wield.”

“It sounds a terribly fraught place to make one’s home. Is that why you choose to travel most of the year?”

“My home is not at the Palace. I have a lovely villa located an hour’s ride north of Pallene on my family’s estate. But fear not, I shan’t be abandoning you once we reach our destination. This year I intend to remain at Court for all the end of season festivities and bridal candidate parties. You shall not shake me off any time soon.”

“A familiar face amongst a crowd of strangers will always be welcome.”

“False. Try saying that sentence without gritting your teeth next time.”

Dropping her sewing project, finally acknowledging the light was too bad, Perri huffed out a small breath, causing the scarf to billow slightly for a moment.

“Honestly, you seem nothing but intent upon colouring all my words and actions as nefarious of late. How is your head injury? Does it ache still?”

“My head is perfectly fine, thank you for your concern. And I don’t think nefarious is the right word, I believe dangerous would be more apt.”

“Dangerous?”

He could tell he’d confused her.

“Whatever you’re barrelling towards with sudden and extreme haste may be a noble quest. But the Golden Palace is not Gloomenthrall woods. A very different kind of predator stalks the halls and drawing rooms there, hiding behind silks and satins, whispering false poetic words of flattery and admiration.”

Brandth held his breath as Perri abruptly laughed, a husky melodic sound that lovebirds would have been jealous of. It made his gut heat and lurch for some reason, damn carriage, had to be the problem, it was stuffy as hell in here.

“You find something amusing?”

“Just that you in your silks and satins, compliments falling from your lips with every conversation you hold with one of my kin, would choose to warn me about your kind. Having spent the last few days in my company, have I struck you as na?ve? Stupid? Have I ever shown a tendency to prostrate myself before you, overcome by your considerable charm and golden tongue? Or, for that matter, displayed the inability to hold my own in a war of witty words and cloaked insults?”

Hah, and now Brandth’s ego was little dented. To be tarred with the same brush as all the malingering aristos that hung around the Palace. For some reason it annoyed him that Perri thought so very little of him. Although, he’d done little but laze about healing from the moment they met. Too often needling her to get a rise for his own amusement.

Brandth was a master of secrets and misdirection, so why then did he expect Perri to be able to see through the half-truths and charade that he presented to the world? Did it matter if she believed him to be nothing but a wastrel charmer, and lackey of the King? Of course not.

The only thing of importance was uncovering Perri’s mission objective and determining whether it was a threat to the Monarchy, the Prince, or the Realm. Brandth still questioned whether he had done the right thing by issuing Alia an invitation. It was all well and good to dabble in Talac’s life, the man was in a rut, one way or the other Brandth sensed Alia’s presence at the Palace would irrevocably alter his friend’s life… whether for good or ill remained to be seen.

Unable to precisely gauge how big a threat the Gloomenthrall ladies were, and to whom. Troubled, yet intrigued. Brandth had spoken truth, he would be staying at the Palace for the end of season festivities and he would be keeping a close eye upon Alia and Perri.

He was determined to uncover Perri’s secrets. Not just why she had insisted upon this journey. But what exactly she was hiding behind that scarf. He’d warned her about predators, but she didn’t appear to take him seriously. Pity she hadn’t, for one sat across from her right now, yes, dressed in silks and satins, but wearing an invisible mask of his own.

Brandth hesitated, in trying to uncover Perri’s secrets he would be forced into her company a lot. Perri was smart and observant, she would question his motives at every turn and had proven resistant to flattery or misdirection. Hah, perhaps he was the one at risk of having his secrets unravel… anticipation stirring in Brandth’s gut. A worthy adversary at last? Hah, what a pair they made… hmmm, what a pair indeed.

A waspish, no nonsense… intriguing healer, and a Lord of the Realm, renowned for his witty ways, good looks and charm. And yet… once all their secrets were laid bare, Brandth couldn’t help but wonder if they might have more in common than he had previously imagined. The idea should horrify him, yet his blood quickened with interest.

Brandth was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Perri Gloomenthrall. To do so he would play the spy, the observer, the dressmaker’s dummy if need be. Assuming he survived the journey as the carriage lurched left and then lurched back, crud, that hurt. The things he did for King and the Realm.

Though a stray thought kept niggling away at the back of Brandth’s mind, was he really going to all this trouble and effort for the good of the Realm and duty? Was this quest perhaps not a little more personal? Yes, he despised secrets and liked to expose intrigue. But Brandth couldn’t deny that he felt a little… protective of Perri. Like a big brother, no, that felt wrong, like a grateful patient… no other reason than that. And it was only right that he stick by her side and defend her from all threats… whether she liked it or not.