Chapter 18: Lord Waryn Eloroan
After taking serum, Afali looked almost plain in my eyes, were it not for her feminine roundness. She did look better after resting and grooming. Her dark hair was woven into a complicated braided chignon that had a mesh of gold string and tiny green emeralds stretched over it. Her face had been powdered, lips coloured red. She wore the same gold stag mask that she did earlier that morning, but this time the look was completed with a flowing gown of bright leafy green that had a pink and gold ribbon tied into a large butterfly at the top of her stay.
I wore am unadorned silk dress the colour of pale blush. It complimented the darker shade of my skin. My hair was allowed to fall down my back with two thin plaits on either side of my head that connected into a type of crown, adorned with a delicate ruby pin. I, too, had had my face powered and lips painted a pale pink to match my dress.
"It's too chilly to dine out," Afali was saying, as we stalked side by side down a long windowed corridor, lit by twilight. Any servant we met along the way, quickly hurried aside, bowing us through. "So I've had them heat the conservatory, since it's such a beautiful evening."
What a conservatory was became evident to me a moment later, when I walked out into a manicured garden of earthenware pots, entrapped inside a large glass structure overlooking the outer gardens. A thick trunked tree that was almost as tall as the ceiling was the centrepiece of the garden. It had bright green leaves as wide as a swan's wing, and strange bluish fruits, the size of apples, growing on its branches.
"See? You're not the only southerner here," said Afali. Meaning, this tree was of the south. It was lucky she spoke first. I had almost asked about it. "Shame autumn doramons are disgusting."
Doramons. That was what those fruits were. The dora tree, Shana had taught me, flowered both in spring and autumn producing sweet, pink fruit in the summer, and astringent blue fruit in winter. Powder produced from wintry doramons was used in dying fabric navy. The doramons, if left on the tree to dry, would become a darker and darker blue with each winter day.
"Don't tell me you actually tried to eat one?" I said.
"Of course I did," Afali replied. "Did you actually believe your nurse's words when she told you not to eat them when you were little? I'm a heiress. Obedience is for laymen."
I didn't rise to the challenge in Afali's words. Dylana didn't seem like she would be quite as disobedient as I made her.
We passed the tree, walking amidst flowering bushes with the gentle twinkling of a small marble fountain to our right. Then we came upon a round, white table, set with golden plates. Through the panes of glass behind it, low hedges and a perfectly sheared lawn dazzled me with its brilliant green.
On ornamental white benches along the glass walls, our three guests were seated, sipping wine from crystal goblets. A servant stood nearby, holding a tray of what looked like prawns in soft cheese upon small, circular savoury biscuits.
They didn't look at us as we approached. I had plenty of time to examine them.
Lady Leah Acavia wore a gold mask that was entirely made out of gold roses granulated together. Inside each rose was a small red beryl, that sparkled when it caught the light. It was expensive craftsmanship, no doubt about it, but something in the design lacked spirit in my eyes.
The wearer of the mask was a woman with deeply ebony skin and wild coiled hair that rose about her face in a misty halo. She did not need a striking mask, her lips, painted red, were themselves like a flower bud. She had narrow shoulders and her beige gown clung to her hips, making her curving frame evident. She seemed strangely sensual for a lady, as if she enjoyed to provoke with her beauty. Her stare was sharp, and she regarded me with clear animosity.
Beside her sat Lord Waryn Eloroan, a lithe and tall man, with intensely blue eyes and curly light brown hair that spilled down to the collar of his stiff jacket. He was dressed completely in black, down to his boots that folded at the knee.
His mask, while doubtlessly expensive, was also quite conservative, as if he wished to appear modest or inconspicuous—despite the fact that he was too handsome to achieve either. It was a cast of smooth gold designed to make the wearer's face resemble that of a lion, without a mane. The mask's nose covered the tip of Lord Waryn's nose, and there was a green beryl right where the lion's nose should be, with small diamonds circling it.
A little away, on a bench of her own, was Lady Nava Somaer. She had an air of detachment about her and was reading a thick tome. Even when seated, I could tell that she was probably as tall as Lord Waryn, but more slender in build than I was. Her hair was a sheet of shimmering black silk that fell all the way to her tiny waist. With the book in the way, I couldn't see her face or her mask very well.
I could already tell that today Lord Waryn and Lady Leah were on better terms than the night before. I tried to pick up on their conversation before our presence was known but, once we were in earshot, Afali made that impossible.
"Lord Waryn! Cousin Leah! How lovely it is to see the both of you. And Lady Nava, you are as beautiful as they say."
Waryn and Leah rose, but Nava simply turned a page in her book and made no indication to have heard anything.
"Afali," said Lady Leah with a curtsy. "You're looking well."
"And you, Leah, haven't changed. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the wedding."
"Oh, I was at least glad to have Lord Alik," said Lady Leah. "Though were you well an entire summer on your own?"
Afali's jaw tightened, but she hurried to relax her features. "Of course. I had to look after Velamia."
"And who will look after Velamia this winter?" Leah asked.
"Oh, father will only attend the Masquerade for a month," Afali replied.
I wondered if anything had happened to Afali during the summer. I told myself to think about it later.
Lord Waryn took Afali's hand and bowed over it. "Lady," he said. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Oh, I am too. I heard so much about you, Lord Waryn..."
"I doubt it was anything in my favour," he said.
A rustle on my right told me Lady Nava turned another page in the book she was reading.
"Lord Waryn, you remember Lady Dylana?"
"How could I forget?" the man in the lion mask said, almost sharply.
I curtsied at both of them. "My lord and lady," I said demurely, trying as best I could to deepen my Desmelas accent.
"My loyds," Lady Leah imitated my accent with a bark of laughter. People of the state of Desmelas didn't pronounce their 'r's quite as northerners did. "Come now, Lady Dylana, say work and walk and let's see if I could tell the difference."
"Work, walk," I said, purposefully making both words sound similar.
Leah threw her head back, laughing. "I can't, can you?" she asked, turning to Lord Waryn.
"She said walk first," he replied drily. He was watching me through narrowed eyes. If I wasn't mistaken—and I hoped I was—Lord Waryn didn't like Dylana.
Afali was being strangely quiet, perhaps she was debating whether to defend Dylana, or help these nobles mock her.
I laughed. "Aren't we full of mischief today? Make me try another."
Taking my lead, Afali laughed. "Try, she and sea."
"Sea and she," I said.
"She just said sea and sea," said Lady Leah. "What do you think, Waryn?"
"This game is stupid," replied the lion-masked lord.
"But aren't all games stupid?" I said.
"You've got a point, Dylana," said the lion lord.
"Unless the stakes are high," I added, my heart hammering. I wanted Lord Waryn to stop looking at me as if he would be happy to cut me to pieces. I quickly decided to invite the only person not participating in this conversation. "When the stakes are high, the games have to become smarter. Do you not think so, Lady Nava?"
At first it seemed Lady Nava didn't plan to respond. She turned another page as everyone turned to look at her. "Leave me out of it," she suddenly said, her voice a low purr. "I've had it with the both of them."
"Now, Nava—" said Lady Leah.
She raised up a single finger. "Sh."
"You can't just say—"
"I just did."
"I said I'm sorry. And why are you including Waryn in this," said Leah.
It almost sounded like a lover's quarrel.
"Anyway," said Afali, her voice high like the chime of a bell. "Wouldn't it be better to leave such games alone?"
"It's just a bit of fun, isn't it, Dylana?" said Leah.
"There's nothing fun about a Tvereman," Waryn said, rolling his eyes. "Or another useless dinner."
The comment was low, even for a lord. Afali looked like she was watching her house burn down.
"Waryn," said Leah. "Apologise to your hostess."
"You apologise first. You made her spend the night looking for my guards who were—"
Afali's face was growing redder by the second. I shouldn't have stepped in, but I did.
"I would expect better manners from the both of you," I said. "In the south, we'd never—"
"You'd expect better?" Waryn said, acidly. "And what's your excuse?"
"Clearly, with the way you're behaving, I don't need one."
A dry cackling sound made me stiffen, before I realised it was Lady Nava laughing. "Oh, that was a good one." She put her book down, and was looking at me intently. "I don't care what you say, Waryn, I like her."
At least that stood for something.
"Well," said Afali, her face as bright as a robin's chest. "I say, father should be here any moment. Shall we sit? Perhaps,"—she signalled to one of the servants—"we need more wine."
"A lot more wine," said Lady Leah, adjusting her rose mask.
The way Lord Waryn was glowering at me, I was convinced that none of Afali's plans were going to work. He was jeopardising my position.
"Cousin Leah you take my father's left while I sit on his right." Afali's voice was pitched high. She was mortified. She had just been humiliated by her own guests, and I doubted she hadn't noticed that there was no lingering friendship between Waryn and Dylana. She was desperate. If what was happening now was going to cause her to panic, I was going to be the one to suffer.
"Lady Nava, you can sit next to me," Afali continued. "And Lord Waryn and Lady Dylana can sit next to Leah."
I looked up to meet Waryn's gaze. His glare only intensified. Dylana and Waryn had known each other as children, but what had been so memorable about their acquaintance to paint such an expression on his face now, after all these years?
It would be something big, something Dylana would remember.
What would I know about it?
There is no stock for a king
Who is broken within...
The poem, the secret one Kitlidara had written Dylana, if her spy channels were sound, she would know that Lord Waryn was due to visit, and he was a mutual acquaintance. 'The king' in the poem could have been the lion, king of all animals, the Eloroan sigil. But what could "stock" mean? And broken within?
Dylana would know, would understand.
Would heed whatever warning her sister sent.
"How the tables have turned," Waryn whispered to me as he sat by my side at the round table. "This is going to be fun."
I put on a faux smile. I was in trouble, deep trouble. "Just like old times."
My words received an unmistakable reaction. His face paled, eyes flashing with malice. Fear and rage mingling in his expression. He grabbed my forearm, hard. "Just like old times, but reversed."
A king who is broken within. I held back the urge to shiver. Perhaps Kitlidara meant those words in a literal fashion.
I wanted to pull my arm out of his grasp, but instead I moved in, closer to him. I didn't wish to touch him, but I did, placing my hand on the back of his neck. It was a demeaning gesture that I used to do with Marin when we were small. I pushed his head forward.
"I'm ready," I said in a low whisper. "For whatever you've got."
AUTHOR'S NOTE (from draft 0): I hope you had a lovely weekend. I know I did! I also hope this chapter doesn't suck and isn't super confusing. Please tell me if it is! My brain might possibly be broken today.
So, what do you think about these three new characters? (And Lord Waryn in particular)
Can't wait to hear your thoughts! Today, I come to you in the form of a sloth, cause of how lazy and cute I was over the weekend:
❤️
Einaty