Slumber (The Fade 1)

“Rogan, be nice,” Haydyn tutted. “Anyway, Lord Matai is correct. It is a fine idea.”

My heart jumped a little at the determination in her voice and I felt hope blooming in my chest. Perhaps Haydyn was finally taking charge. And I might not like fancy balls but… it was a good idea. If only because it was her idea.

Her face fell when I didn’t respond. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Rogan?” She looked so worried. I cursed inwardly. Why did everyone’s opinion matter so much to her? She was as smart and capable as any of us fools whose advice she solicited. I sighed inwardly, wishing she’d remember she was fair and just and royal - she should not concern herself with my opinion, or anyone else’s for that matter.

Instead I gave her a soft smile. “Lord Matai’s right. It’s a fine idea.”

Moment of anxiety over, Haydyn grinned cheerfully as we entered the marketplace. Again all went quiet at the sight of us, but gradually, as we trotted over to the stables, the noise level rose again.

“I want you to seek out the finest fabric for me, for my new ball gown, as well as the finest for yourself,” Haydyn commanded gently as Matai helped her dismount. I was so shocked by the request I dismounted without help, forgetting I wasn’t supposed to do that in public. But Haydyn very rarely used my magic and never for something as frivolous as fabric shopping.

Already my body was crackling inside, drawing me towards a fabric stall deep in the crowds of the square. “Fabric?” I queried softly.

“Hmm.” Haydyn nodded, smiling prettily at me. “We want to look our best for such an important event.”

“Not the key to world peace? Not the answer to shutting down a rookery or controlling rogue gypsies? Fabric?”

Haydyn sighed wearily. “Must I repeat it, Rogan, when we both know you’re being facetious?”

I shrugged. “Well, I just had no idea that the form of our fashion was so incredibly important to settling Phaedrian disputes.”

“More facetiousness. Lovely.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Away I go to seek and order the fabric.” I glanced between Matai and her. “What are you going to do?”

Haydyn gazed a little too adoringly at Matai. “Lord Matai’s going to escort me around the market while I choose some gifts to present to our guests at the ball.”

I threw Matai a mock horrified look. “Lord Matai, may I say now how much I’ve enjoyed knowing you, for I fear it will be the last time I look upon you. Death by boredom.” I winced.

He grinned at me. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so put upon,” Haydyn sniffed.

I laughed, thinking about her well known generosity. “And just where are all these gifts going? We didn’t bring a cart?”

“I’ll borrow one. Or buy one. I am the Princezna.”

I almost rolled my eyes. She asserts her authority when shopping. Wonderful.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. Off I go. Shan’t be long.” I moved as fast as I could away from them and into the crowds before Haydyn demanded I take an escort.

I breathed deeply of the thick smells of the market. It was a strange mixture of pungent sheep’s wool, beats, chocolate, oil, sweet meats, bread, perfume, paint… oh it was a fragrance of all the variety of the market. Usually, I hated the crowds, preferring my escape to be down at the cliffs some miles from the palace. I loved the peace and quiet of watching the surf of the Silver Sea crash against the cliff walls. For some reason it reminded me I was alive. But never alone. No. There was always a guard with me some way in the distance. Today, as I swept past people, some who recognised me, some who didn’t – calling out to me to buy their wares, desperate for what they assumed was a noblewoman to purchase something expensive from them – I loved the market in that moment. Because I was alone. All alone. Free.

I was quick on my feet, dodging persistent sellers, and hopefully any of the Guard who may have followed me. In no time at all I found the stall with the fabric that called to my magic. I saw it right away. Velvet, the colour of lapis lazuli, made from the finest silk in the textile factories in Ryl. Haydyn would look wonderful in it. I reached out to stroke the beautiful fabric when a hand clamped around my wrist.

“No, no, miss.” I looked up into the ruddy face of the market seller. “Not the right colour for you, miss. Come see some of my silks.” He tried to pull me towards the more expensive material. I tugged at his grip but he was determined.

I grew irritated by his persistence. “Sir-”

“With a face and figure like yours, you shouldn’t hide behind the heavy textures. Fine silks, miss, fine silks for you.”

I tugged again. Oh yes. This was why I hated the marketplace.

A large hand came down on top of the sellers, ripping it from my own and holding it tight. Both the seller and I looked up into the intimidating and angry face of Wolfe Stovia.

“You dare to lay your hands on the Princezna’s Handmaiden?” Wolfe growled at the man.

The seller blanched as he looked at me, recognition finally dawning. “Oh my Lady, I meant no disrespect.”

Wolfe grunted and shoved the man away a little. “Lady or servant, I see you trying to forcefully coerce a woman again and you and I will have words.”

I’d never seen anyone look so ill, so green. “Apologies, my Lord. I was over excited. It won’t happen again. Apologies, my Lady.” His head bobbed up and down at me.

Oh for havens sake. “I’m not a lady,” I snapped, furious at Wolfe for drawing attention to the situation and blowing it out of proportion. The overbearing lout. I glared at him. “You, sir, are a bully.”

Wolfe merely frowned at me. “And you, girl, are the Handmaiden of Phaedra and as such a lady. You are not to allow strange men to touch you.”

I curled my lip disdainfully. “I’ll allow a mountain man of Alvernia to touch me before I take advice from you, Stovia.” Dismissing him, agitated by his presence, his ruination of my pretence at freedom, I turned back to the seller. “I want three bolts of the lapis lazuli velvet and one bolt of the emerald silk chiffon.” I relaxed a little at having completed my task for Haydyn, but then my body hummed with energy again and I turned without thinking toward a stall some quarter of the way back into the middle of the market. The fabric that would suit me most was in there somewhere. Damn Haydyn. Damn being an Azyl.

I spun back on the seller. “Have the fabric delivered to the palace and ask for Seamstress Rowan. You’ll be paid well for your troubles.”

He nodded, doing this obscene half bow/curtsey thing that made me throw a growl in Wolfe’s direction. Turning sharply from them both to make my way to the fabric stall my magic was called to, I drew in a breath at the pleasant sandalwood scent of Wolfe as he fell into step beside me.

I stopped abruptly. “What are you doing?” I snapped.

Wolfe shrugged, refusing to look at me, refusing to leave. “Just one of the more unpleasant jobs of being Captain of the Guard. Protecting you.”

Pulling a face, I began walking again. “We are droll aren’t we?”

“Some people think I’m charming.” He grinned flirtatiously and executed a graceful half bow to a passing tavern girl, who eyed him seductively over her bare shoulder.

“Some people don’t know any better.” I huffed and tried to move away from him.

“Ooh is that judgement I hear in the voice of the lady who was flirting with a mere stable boy this morning.”

I gritted my teeth. “Stable Master.”

Wolfe raised one annoying eyebrow. “As if that makes it any more palatable. You know he’s bedded every girl in the palace, you’re not special.”

I could feel my blood boiling under my skin, as it did whenever I was forced to be in the same presence as this man. I tried to take deep, calming breaths. I did. I really, really did. It didn’t work. “Who I choose to converse with is of no consequence to you, Captain Stovia. And may I remind you to whom you are speaking?” So, I was being a little snooty. He deserved it!

He gave me disgusted look. “So there is a snob buried under all that ‘I’m not a lady, I’m not a lady, I’m just like everyone else,’ piffle?” He mocked.

“For one, I don’t talk like that. And two… I am just like everyone else. Except,” I spat, “When it comes to you. You will talk to me like I’m royalty, Captain. As in… don’t speak to me at all!”

The usual cool and collected Wolfe stiffened at my insults, his face taut with anger. Our dislike was definitely, definitely mutual. “If you want to get snooty, Rogan-”

I flinched at his use of my given name. He’d never called me Rogan before. Not to my face anyway. It had always been my Lady, despite my lack of nobility.

“-May I remind you that I’m the one with Lord before my name. Don’t speak to me like I’m dirt beneath your shoe.”

Arrogant beast, I shook my head. Just like his demon father. I laughed humourlessly, a cold, brittle laugh that caused him to wince. “You don’t need to remind me who you are, Vikomt Stovia.” With that I veered from him, pushing my way through the crowds to escape him. I looked back to make sure he did not follow. He didn’t, but I watched him nod at someone and then glance at me. Within seconds, Lieutenant Chaeron had pushed his way through the crowds to walk by my side, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I wanted to be annoyed at the immediate sense of suffocation his presence caused me, but then I recalled Jarvis’ words of warning and relaxed. There was a reason behind Haydyn’s idea for a ball. Quite suddenly I was glad for our trained Guard. We had never needed them before.

But then there had never been crime before.

Chapter Four

“What about Matai, Haydyn?!” I hissed, knowing he stood outside her bedroom suite. She glanced worriedly at the door, before pinning me to the wall with a hurt look.

“Please, keep your voice down, Rogan.”

I tried. I shuddered, trying to take deep breaths. But I was so mad at her. I wanted her to wake up! My head swam with all Ava and Jarvis had told us.

That morning, Haydyn had been called to the Chambers to speak with Jarvis and Ava. Last night, Wolfe’s men had returned… and they hadn’t returned bearing good news.

“So… it’s all true?” Haydyn had asked, as she sat, clutching my hand tight in hers. I ignored the pricking, wincing pain of her long nails digging into my skin and tried to squeeze her hand in reassurance.

Jarvis nodded, looking years older since the last we had seen him only a few weeks before. “All three complaints prove true. Javinia is in unrest and it seems rumour of the unrest is spreading through Sabithia. Alvernia is worsening; even the Valley grows more uncivilised. Apparently Arrana is the only civilised city in the province. And as for the rookery in Vasterya… well it exists.”

“Oh no.” Haydyn grew limp beside me, her young eyes round and fearful. “What do we do?”

Ava and Jarvis shared a look.

I was immediately suspicious. “What?”

“Well,” Jarvis cleared his throat. “Of course we should send reinforcements into Javinia, and someone should speak with Markiz Solom Rada in Pharya – he needs to send his guard out to police the rookery. I don’t know why he hasn’t already.”

“I do,” Ava murmured and I knew what she meant. Markiz Solom was my least favourite of the Rada. Spoiled, entitled, weak.

“What about Alvernia?” I narrowed my eyes on them.

Again they shared that nervous little look.

“Well.” Ava smiled at Haydyn brightly. “We have a wonderful suggestion.”

My intuition told me it wasn’t that wonderful. “Suggest it then.”

“Rogan,” Haydyn admonished. I merely shrugged.

Seeming unconcerned with my attitude, Jarvis leaned forward across the table, his eyes all grandfatherly and wise as he focused his attention on Haydyn. “You are of an age now, Princezna, and it’s time to discuss the possibility of you marrying and carrying on the Dyzvati line.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling Haydyn stiffen under my touch. “She’s not a broodmare,” I snapped.

Jarvis flinched at my tone and narrowed his eyes on me. “I didn’t suggest she was, Rogan. Please disband with the attitude.”

“Rogan, please.” Haydyn patted my hand. “His Grace is right. I am of age.”

As I watched Ava and Jarvis share pleased looks, I just knew, knew deep in the pit of my stomach what they wanted of her. “You want a match with Alvernia.”

They seemed shocked at my deduction and Jarvis shifted nervously for a moment. Vaguely, I noted Matai stiffen at the door.

Jarvis found Haydyn’s eyes again, drawing her in to his soothing look, making me want to pull her away from him. “We think you might want to consider a betrothal between your Highness and Markiz Andrei of Alvernia – son of Vojvoda Andrei Rada. It would greatly improve relations between the two provinces and may be a brilliant stepping stone towards civilising the north.”

My mouth fell open as I watched Haydyn’s reaction. She was pale and still, deliberately not looking at Matai. She glanced at me, winced at my expression. And then she straightened, her chin rising defiantly. “I think it’s a very good idea. And one we must consider. Vojvoda Andrei and his son are invited to the ball next month are they not?”

“Yes,” Ava replied happily, relief sparking in her eyes, “They are Princezna. They’re staying at the palace with the rest of the Rada and their families. It will be a wonderful opportunity to get to know one another and further any plans for a betrothal.”