Page 6 of Tides of Shadows

“Twenty-one,” I said evenly, meeting her gaze without flinching.

“How curious. I can barely remember your father bringing you here once, such a frail little thing. But that fiery hair of yours... hard to forget.” She said it with a trace of amusement that made my blood stir. Then, with a sigh as if bored already, she added, “I cannot fathom why Victor sent you here. Your father ought to preserve what little dignity remains to him and handle his own affairs. Why not send your brother?”

I drew a slow breath, steadying my voice. “I am here as a member of my Family, as any other. I came to attend the Gathering and to see to our business. My brother... could not appear.”

Cassandra’s brows arched, surprise flickering for an instant. But at the word Gathering, her eyes sharpened, turning to frost. The Gathering of the Ten Families. Institution older than any rule in the Dominium. Every five years, the heirs and heads of the noble lines gathered in the capital to deliberate over matters of trade and authority. And most importantly, to choose a new Regent.

To maintain order in that careful chaos, the Families elected a Regent from ten noble Families. Not a king, but a mediator and keeper of balance, so they say. The truth was, it was one of the few ways to have more power and control over others. And that’s what the Families were looking for the most.

The current Regent was Nicolas Cavareth, Cassandra’s husband. Which made her an even greater bitch than she already was.

She stepped closer, “Oh, I am certain you came on business,” she whispered, her voice low yet carrying across the empty court. “But do not deceive yourself, child. The business of Family Veymaris ended long ago. You are here only to find yourself a husband. For that alone will spare you from ruin.”

My fists tightened, and the water in the fountain rippled in answer. Behind her, I caught sight of Cavareth servants lowering their heads. They must have known that tone very well, every word struck like a dagger. Her lips curved into a glacial smile.

“You better stay in the shadows. This place belongs to Families that still have something to offer. Not to ghosts clinging to the memory of their former glory. Leave politics to the elders.”

Before I could reply, she turned in a swirl of gray and gold and walked away. Leaving me standing in the center of the square like a lone pawn on a chessboard where I had yet to learn the rules.

I walked beneath the arcades to calm myself, though fury burned beneath my skin. I sat in a shadowed alcove, trying to collect my thoughts. The high vaults carried every sound, turning whispers into echoes that lingered.

Then I heard a rough, smoke-stained male voice.

“…I tell you, something is wrong. My men keep bringing back dead beasts, rotten through, unfit to eat. And worse, last week they saw a stag in the Freeforest, its hide cracked and leaking black filth, its eyes full of blood. They shot it five times with arrows. It still moved. Had to take its head before it ceased.”

I froze. So it was true. The Plague was spreading. Freeforest, those must be the Mermont lands to the east. Rumors spoke of sick animals, tainted rivers, and dead soil. Thalrock remained untouched for now, though even our fishermen sometimes returned with empty nets, or worse, with fish dripping in black sludge.

“And now the Regent lies in his strange slumber. Of all times to fall ill... And Cassandra, only busy pushing her arrogant son before the Election with promises of lowering the price of palladium.”

“Do not speak to me of that harpy,” another voice replied, deeper and smoother. “She struts like a peacock, though her husband lies near death. She is so sure of the win… I wonder how many promises she had made to secure the Election. I bet she would even sleep with Eric Salvadore if it got her the final vote.”

The two men chuckled. “Come, let us drink. Better to numb ourselves before the storm.” Their footsteps faded down the corridor.

I leaned out from behind the column and caught a glimpse of them, two men in finely embroidered cloaks. One bore lilies upon his chest, the mark of Family Mermont, as I suspected. The other wore an over-elegant outfit decorated with various green stones from top to bottom. Both of them wore heavy rings set with emeralds.

I decided I had heard enough for one morning. It was time to retreat to my chambers and prepare for the Gathering.

I wanted nothing more than to hide away in peace and flee prying eyes. But a young heiress in a palace, whether she wished it or not, drew attention. Among the Families, children were of many ages, and when a scion reached a suitable year, all began to scheme and count whether some profit might be made from the match. For me, it was the last thing on my mind.

After a long walk along the stone halls I reached our chambers. In the living room, trunks were piled in a chaotic heap, but no one remained. They had likely gone to the meal. I breathed out a heavy sigh and dreamed only of silence and solitude.

I pushed open the door to my bedchamber. The hinges shrieked as if no hand had turned them for a long while. Relief filled me, and then, instead of the quiet and emptiness I had hoped for, moans and tittering greeted me.

And then I saw him.

A muscular, broad-shouldered blond sat upon my bed, shirtless, his pants gaped enough that little imagination was needed to divine his intent. Straddling him was a half-clad wench whose breasts shone far too boldly in the morning light.

I froze. Then a sound escaped me, loud and involuntary.

“What the fuck!”

The girl squealed like a beaten rat, suddenly covered her breasts with her hands, and almost fell off the bed as she tried to quickly put on a thin dress. The blond did not flinch. He smiled broadly, silver eyes flashing like steel, and his nonchalance only fueled my fury.

“I thought these chambers were empty,” he said, as calm as if he were an old friend and not an intruder in my bed.

“They are not any longer,” I hissed, fingers clenched about the latch as though I might hurl a shoe at him. “Get out. Now.”

The wench stumbled into the corridor, hair unbound and wild. He did not move. He ran a hand down his neck, leaned back against the headboard, and smiled wider, as if this was his chamber and I the unexpected guest.