Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter 8

Darius

“Ow!” Darius winced as another pin dug into his shoulder. “Honestly, Ingram, is it necessary to have new clothing made every time there’s some sort of event?”

“It’s your engagement party. Of course it’s necessary.” He circled around him, studying the tailor’s handiwork. “The right shoulder roll on the doublet is a bit higher than the left.”

The tailor removed several pins and made a small adjustment, sticking Darius again when he moved his neck inside the tight collar of the blue tunic.

“If you’d stop squirming, this would be over far faster,” Ingram said. “Hold still and let the man work.”

Twenty minutes later, he was finally out of the fitting and back into more normal clothes. At least, normal for those days. He wasn’t any closer to not feeling naked without his armor and sword.

He grimaced as his memories whispered to him. The last time he’d worn his leather bracers and chain mail was the day he sent Naya away from the palace. Likely as not, he’d never be able to wear them again without thinking of her. He already had to abandon the suite he shared with her for one blissful week. After she left, he couldn’t stand the sight of it, giving it up in favor of a smaller set of rooms in a different hall. Eventually he’d be back in that corridor, as the chambers he’d share with his bride were across from those old rooms, but he tried to think of it as little as possible.

Honestly, he didn’t know how he’d feel on his wedding night. Would he be overcome with despair? Resigned to his fate? Arden was growing on him, true, but liking her was different than being able to consummate their relationship when it was demanded of him. He doubted she’d be very pleased if her advances were met with frigidity.

She deserved more in a husband.

“Has Madame LeVallier had any reports on the envoy sent to the Prasta?” Darius asked as they made their way down the hall. “Does she know how far they’ve gotten with the message?”

“She’ll be waiting for us when we arrive,” Ingram said, “but I doubt there’ll be much to say on that matter before they reach the coast. It’s at least two weeks of hard riding to get that far, and that’s if they don’t meet with any remaining pockets of Torn Ones to slow their progress. I wouldn’t look for an answer until the coronation at the earliest, possibly not until after the wedding.”

Madame LeVallier was indeed waiting in Ingram’s office, looking as somber and shadowy as ever as she hovered by the window, hood drawn up on her gray cloak.

“There are too many new faces in the castle for my liking,” she said with her back still to them. “I imagine there will be far more arriving in the next few days, which I like even less.”

“Not all of us have the luxury of maintaining a carefully controlled environment at all times, Chancellor,” Ingram said as he sat behind his desk. “And, yes, there will be far more guests here in the weeks to come than I think we’ll ever have here again, so at least you can take some comfort in knowing the worst will be over soon.”

“Weddings and funerals always bring out the most bothersome of the nobility,” she grumbled and took a seat beside Darius, all sorts of correspondence laid out on the desk before them. “I’ve had to bring in more eyes and ears for the events coming.”

The foul mood of his fitting soared to greater heights at her news. “So my home will be filled with spies and conniving politicians in honor of my marriage? Wonderful. It just keeps getting better, this king business.”

Ingram chuckled. “Better that than Torn Ones flooding the halls, don’t you think?”

“At least I’d know what to do with them,” he said dryly.

“As to that,” Madame LeVallier said, “I received word that our envoy ran into a little resistance yesterday, but not enough to delay them much. I sent word to contacts in Cardonne to dispatch a few more swords to see them to the coast. I’d rather be cautious than lose valuable couriers.”

“We haven’t many extras to spare, so please use restraint when requesting armed protection,” Ingram said, ever mindful of troop numbers.

“There’s no need for concern, Your Grace. I said swords, not whose swords. I have my own resources.”

Ingram shuffled through some of the papers on his desk. “Have you spoken with Duchess Tanarien yet over wedding arrangements? The engagement party is two days from now, and mostly taken care of, but there are still outstanding items on the main event to see to.”

“I’ve arranged to meet with her tomorrow after breakfast. I’ve only just returned from Maer and have yet to go over the correspondence you’ve received in my absence, so I’m unaware of the confirmations or cancellations that came in this past week.”

Collecting a pile of missives, he passed them over to Madame LeVallier. “Then this should be everything you need. Do share details with the duchess. She’s very well connected, and while she may not be your ideal partner for this, she’s highly organized and wants this wedding done perfectly, so you have the same goal. Tap into those connections of hers, as the gossip she’s privy to may be invaluable.”

Again, malaise descended over Darius as they spoke of his impending nuptials in the same manner as a business transaction. While he outright said he wanted as little to do with the wedding as possible, being present for the discussions was worse than knowing nothing at all. Arden and he were mere chattel in all of it, which was made abundantly clear with every planning meeting he was forced to endure.

“And how do you find the Lady Arden, Highness?” Madame LeVallier asked with the barest hint of a smirk.

“As pleasant as most do, I imagine,” Darius replied, uncomfortable discussing the topic with her. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, never mind what to tell others.

The Chancellor lifted one of her thin, black eyebrows. “That’s not the entirety of what I heard, but if you want to play at secrets, you’re welcome to.”

“I leave the secrets to you, Chancellor. My personal feelings on matters seem to have very little to do with what goes on in my life, so there’s not much reason to discuss them.”

Ingram chuckled. “For what it’s worth, he’s much less argumentative about it since meeting her.”

“Mind your words, Your Grace,” Darius grumbled. “Don’t confuse resignation with enthusiastic participation.”

“Duly noted,” he said, still smirking.

“Interesting.” Madame LeVallier leaned back in her seat, watching Darius closely. “I’m quite looking forward to meeting the Lady Arden.”

The Chancellor’s meddling knew no bounds, but he was mostly certain she had no ill intentions for his fiancée. What she coveted above all else was information, and, for that moment at least, Arden was an unknown player to her. Still, Arden was quite young and not as used to the duplicity certain people had. The Chancellor of Letters was a brilliant resource for information, but only a fool would fully trust her.

“I imagine you’ll get your chance during your planning meetings with Duchess Tanarien,” Darius said. “Lady Arden may have some opinions on the event, though I doubt she’d go against her mother’s wishes.”

Madame LeVallier stood and nodded. “Then I’ll see I’m well-prepared for tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness. Your Grace.”

With a brief nod, she wandered out of the room, disappearing to stars knew where.

“And, do we think it’s a good idea for the Lady Arden to spend inordinate amounts of time with the Chancellor of Letters?” he asked, still staring at the door.

“It’s less than a month until the wedding,” Ingram said, mild amusement in his voice. “Not long enough for irreparable damage, I’m fairly sure.”

Arden

“My Lady?”

The familiar voice sent Arden to her feet, dropping her book without a single care as she rushed to the bedroom door. Flinging it open, she nearly tackled the unsuspecting elf waiting on the other side.

“Paitra!” Arden squealed, ecstatic to see her friend again.

Her laughter was beautiful music after so much time apart. “Good to see you, too, but could we go inside? You know how your mother gets.”

Beside herself with joy at her arrival, Arden dragged her into the room, hooking Paitra’s arm the moment she closed the door. Still standing by the window table where she’d been embroidering something, Elena shifted her weight nervously.

“Elena, this is my dear friend Paitra Su’dein of the Moth’hari tribe. Paitra, this is Elena Di’oros, of the Ansere’th. She’s been standing in as my handmaiden and co-conspirator in your absence.”

“
Sen d’aren, riyah
. I hope she’s not caused you too much trouble.” Paitra nudged Arden with a shoulder, laughing a little.

“
Sen d’aren, riyah
.” Elena nodded, still looking unsure. “She’s been no trouble at all.”

Paitra chuckled. “Are you feeling all right, Arden? If you’ve not been any trouble, I’d assume you’ve been ill.”

“Very funny. I’ve been on my best behavior. Given where I am, that seemed the smartest course of action.”

Paitra looked at Elena, playfully dubious of the claim. “You and I can discuss that after this one’s gone to bed, eh?”

Elena cracked the smallest smile. “If you like. So, if you’ve no more need of me, my lady…” She collected her embroidery, heading for the door.

“You’re leaving?” Arden hadn’t expected her to go immediately.

“If you have a handmaiden already—”

She unhooked herself from Paitra and collected her new friend, hauling her back towards them. “You can’t leave. Paitra’s only just arrived and hasn’t any idea where anything is. Besides, I’m sure as a bride-to-be I’m entitled to more than one of you, and more friends is always better, don’t you think?”

“You wish me… to stay?”

Paitra sighed. “You’re best off not arguing with her. I started with her when I was eight, and it was only supposed to be for a year. This is what happens when she likes you.” She laughed and winked at Elena. “We’re no longer allowed to give up. Sorry.”

A thought occurred to Arden, and her shoulders drooped a little. “That is, unless you want to work elsewhere. I certainly won’t force you to stay if you’d rather not.”

Elena bit her lip and looked from Paitra, to Arden, then back again. “You’re sure? I don’t want to be a bother…”

Overjoyed that she’d get to keep them both, Arden grabbed their arms and hauled them over to sit on the bed. “We’ll have to get another chair, and maybe see about a slightly larger table, but that can wait. Elena, you must help me tell Paitra about everything that’s happened this week. Oh my goodness, where to start?”

“
Denas al maha
, has she been this way all week?” Paitra said, laughing. “How did you put up with it so long?”

At last, Elena relaxed, grinning at Paitra. “It’s been rather up and down, to be honest, but the prince’s asahana has good reason to be happy. It’s been a nice change waiting on someone who’s not dour and distant all the time.”

Paitra’s eyes popped open, and she gaped. “He called you asahana?”

Arden giggled. “Yes, but only after I lectured him and told him how to run the kingdom.”

“You did what?”

Elena started laughing, and Arden was so thoroughly happy in that moment, she succumbed to it immediately. Eventually they got most of the story out, every small disaster and success, and she took Paitra’s hands, grinning from ear to ear by the time it was done.

“It’s better than I ever dared hope, honestly.” Arden squeezed Paitra’s fingers, glad she was there to share the moment. “He’s a good man, and I think I can do great things here.”

She beamed. “I never doubted you, Arden. I’m sorry I missed all the fun.”

“But you’re here now, and we’ve got Elena with us, too. There’s not a thing I can see that could ruin this. When I’m done here, the entire kingdom will be transformed. I just know it.”

Paitra shook her head, smiling at Elena. “Sunshine and rainbows, riyah. Did you hear? She’ll be promising unicorns next.”

Elena snorted. “If anyone could make that happen, she could on pure will alone, I think.”

Arden bounced up off the bed, beelining for the trunks that arrived with Paitra. “I think I’ll wear the pale blue dress tonight. Did you bring it? It always sets off my eyes so well…”

The elven women laughed, but set in to help look.