Sisters Three (Completed)

8. Brenna (2/2)

While Aunt Perta was involved with three baronesses, Brenna slid out of her seat and casually slipped into a group of women. She pretended to be in their conversation in case Aunt Perta looked her way, and when she felt it was safe, she sauntered farther into the room.

The foreign men were now within hearing distance for she heard their accented voices, though the words were still too strained to understand. She tried sidling closer, making as if she were interested in the view out of the window directly to their right, but right before she reached her destination she smashed into the side of a young man making his way past her.

"Beg your pardon," he said, the accent of the foreign men on his tongue. She noted his light brown hair and the pine green of his unadorned tunic. He definitely belonged to the group.

"I was only headed for the window," she said, motioning.

He looked toward the panes and the scant view they offered from this angle. He turned back with a raised eyebrow and a confused laugh. "Are the grape vines always a source of interest for young women of Ittal?" he asked.

Brenna rolled her eyes. "They are for me, thank you."

The young man's mouth popped open and he looked from her to window once again. "I'm afraid I offended you," he said. "I didn't meant to. Here, I'll escort you to the window and make sure no other idiots bump into you."

Brenna straightened her shoulders. That's more like it. She let him take her arm and lead her to the window... and within perfect eavesdropping position of his friends. She leaned against the wall and stared at the grape vines as if the world were contained in them, all the while straining to catch up on the conversation of the foreign men.

The young man continued talking, though Brenna wasn't paying much attention to him. He introduced himself and offered a hand, which she shook without looking at. He stood expectantly, staring at her, until she realized he'd asked a question she hadn't heard. She faced him and shook her head as if to clear it of a headache.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I was only asking after your name," he said.

She wanted him to leave, not try to get information out of her. She glanced over her shoulder to see that the group of foreign men were already dispersing, wandering off to get punch or find their wives. She cursed under her breath and returned her attention back to the young man. Now that her chance at listening to an interesting conversation had dissolved, she might as well see what this young man had to offer. He was, after all, foreign himself.

"Brenna," she said, forcing her frown down and replacing it with a tepid smile. He was an affable looking fellow, with a close-cropped beard and brown eyes that seemed always prepared to crinkle when he smiled. His height was barely taller than her, and he seemed to carry a calm around with him. He wasn't exactly her idea of adventure, and she didn't want to encourage him too much... but civility wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Your home is very lovely," he said, connecting her name to her heritage. She nodded and tried not to yawn.

"There was a time when it was more than just lovely," she said, scanning the crowd for more interesting company. Nothing presented itself. "I would that we could return there, but unfortunately those days are over."

"At the very least, your country has not fallen to the ravages of war," the young man said, his voice tinged with something like regret. "It is not a pretty sight, the leftovers of a battle for a throne."

"I'd rather there had been a battle," she said before she could think better of it. The government was not the kindest when it came to royalist sympathies. But he was foreign and she didn't want him thinking all Ittalans were placid.

"My kingdom has been fighting a civil war for control over the crown since the old queen died," the young man said, sighing. "I don't presume to tell you how to feel, but a peaceful transition is not all that bad."

Brenna stood a little straighter at this mention of his home. "Where are you from?"

He looked a little surprised before answering. Perhaps he'd already told her when she wasn't paying attention. "Anjeluund."

This really snatched her attention. Anjeluund was a large, empiric island just off the coast of Ittal, packed with coal and copper mines. For thirty years it had been ruled by a virgin queen, only to be left in limbo when she died five years ago. Her cousins fought for the throne, each drawing support from the barons and dukes of the land, but neither gaining enough of a following to tip the balance in their favor. The war was legendary, due to its longevity and the importance of it. Controlling Anjeluund meant controlling trading routes and valuable mines, not to mention the vast lands that the empire controlled abroad. This young man no doubt was aligned with one of the two men vying for the throne, and that meant he was now worth her attention.

"Really? Oh, I've always wanted to visit your homeland. I've heard your horses are the most beautiful on this side of the world," she said, picking some silly reason for her enthusiasm in order to hide the hungry curiosity about the war that more than likely had killed many of his friends.

The young man's shoulders relaxed at the safe topic and he smiled once again. "There are some very fine roans that one of the dukes owns," he said, his eyes searching the crowd. He raised a hand and beckoned to a man standing in one corner, and when he came closer Brenna recognized him as one of the men she'd wanted to eavesdrop on. He came to the young man's side and dipped his head.

"You wanted me?" he asked, his eyes flicking briefly over Brenna.

"This young woman wanted to know more about your horses, Duke Tyber," the young man said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Tell her about Summer Bolt while I check on my father."

The duke didn't look immensely pleased to be stuck with Brenna, and she vice-versa. She watched her young man saunter off, and slumped her shoulders at his leaving. Just when he'd gotten interesting, she'd lost him and been forced on some dullard rambling about a stallion.

After a few moments the duke stopped midsentence. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

Brenna blinked a few times and faced him. "Who was that?"

"What?"

"The young man who was talking to me. Who was he?"

The duke laughed abruptly and shook his head. "Well, I think he'd be glad to know that at least in Ittal he can still escape his notoriety. That was Afton Glenfarrow."

"Glenfarrow. Isn't that one of the families vying for the throne?" Brenna's eyes snapped back to the young man, standing with an older man. The resemblance between the two marked the man as his father.

"Aye. Robert Glenfarrow's wife was the queen's own cousin. Should they win the battle, Afton there will become the next king of Anjeluund," the duke said, gazing on Afton as if he were a horse in a race with good money riding on it. "The Glenfarrows are the people's favorite. The Revours may have the backing of the Quar army, but should Robert Glenfarrow ever get his hands on enough force to match it... well, Blessed Mary we might see an end to this war."

Brenna reeled at this information. Afton Glenfarrow, a future king, there in her own home. Her eyes sought him out once more, running over features she'd thought so plain before. He actually was quite handsome, with a firm jaw and power in his small frame. He laughed at some joke one of his nobles told, perfectly at ease. He could be king one day, and as far as she could see he had no wife hanging about him.

Suddenly she felt it all clicking into place. Nothing like this opportunity would present itself again. She'd already met him and he knew her name. She might have even impressed him, or at least made enough of an impact that he'd remember her. All the guests were staying the weekend, and if she could only contrive to bump into him again...

Brenna swept off to where her Great Uncle Roma and her aunts sat, still receiving guests. If she wanted to restore the family name to some sort of honor she'd need the help of the two most cunning women she knew.

Brenna was going to catch herself a crown.