Page 8 of Tides of Shadows

Idressed for the Gathering in my formal gear: a navy leather doublet in my Family’s colors. Its plain cut kept its dignity, and the fitted nature was meant to set off the strength of my frame.

The Gathering took place in the Inner Court. The palace’s main building rose in a ring with arcades on either side. At its heart lay an open square without a roof, shaped like a garden. Here and there soft grass and well-tended shrubs grew, interspersed with marble statues carved in the likeness of forgotten heroes.

In the very midst of the Inner Court stood ten marble benches with high backs, set in a circle. On common days they stood empty, but at a Gathering they filled with the Families’ delegates.

Only the members of a Family might sit on the marble benches. All others, lesser noblemens, courtiers and counselors, waited around them. Some perched on other stools, most stood beneath the arcades and watched for the proceedings to begin.

I crossed the square with Roderick. He walked at my side and murmured in my ear all the facts of the Families. His voice was quiet and steady, patient as a father’s, though each step betrayed his strain.

“Speak as little as you may,” he said. “Unfortunately, we all know that the Lady has a tendency towards... honesty. In the Dominium they do not prize it. Listen, observe, and learn.”

I raised a brow and gave him a look of solemnity, “Me, speaking whatever comes to my mind? Impossible.”

I teased, yet we both knew he was right. More than once my bluntness had led me into trouble. Roderick sighed and looked at me as though he feared I might fly at someone’s throat at any moment.

“My Lady,” he began, his furrowed brow saying more than a hundred words.

I smiled and brushed his arm with mine.

“Do not worry. I will strive to hold my barbed remarks in check.” The corner of my mouth rose, defiant. “Though you know how hard it is to bridle me.”

Patience and care filled his look, and then, to my surprise, he returned my smile.

“May the gods help us this day,” he muttered, shaking his head.

We entered the square when the benches were almost full. I recognized Cassandra at once, dressed in grey and stones. She sat beside the blond… the very same I had caught groping a wench in my bedchamber. Of course it was him, sitting there carelessly, turning his diamond ring between his fingers. The son of the Regent and Cassandra, the spiteful hag. He was dressed with faultless care, every detail impeccable. His white-blond hair lay in an artful disarray, yet he seemed ready to sit for a royal portrait.

The moment he saw me his lips took on a satisfied smile, as if proud of his deed and glad to mock me before all. Heat stung my cheeks. I turned my gaze away.

Some benches held several of the Family members, others fewer. Only two were occupied by a single person, mine and the one set opposite. There I marked a silhouette I knew, the tall stranger from the harbor tavern.

He looked dark and grave. Compared to the other lords who dripped with jewels, he wore only black. Not a single Elementar on him. Soldier-cut leather tunic lay on his broad shoulders, close-fitted and edged with subtle work that lent a stern grace. His face was keen, with sharply defined jawline and full lips. His dark hair and tanned skin told me he was from the south. His eyes, deep and unreadable, held a pull that made it hard to look away.

When he saw me he lifted one corner of his mouth, a slight, almost secret smile. I returned it, shyly. So he wasn’t a random soul that night in the tavern.

I was shaken from my reverie by a shove to my shoulder. An older man, draped in emeralds, forced past me and pushed me aside. It was the same lord I had overheard earlier. Without pause, he led his entire Family toward the marble bench.

They moved like a royal procession through the crowded Gathering. Women and men alike with brown and auburn hair. All were clothed in varying shades of green, their garments heavy with wealth. Their jewels catching the light at every step. Emerald cuffs, clasps, necklaces and rings showing Family status. The man did not so much as glance at me as he passed, as though I were no more than air.

Near the end of the line walked a young man close to my own age. Unlike the others, he slowed. His gaze lingered on me, steady and unguarded, held a moment longer than courtesy allowed.

Roderick seized my arm in his firm grip and guided me toward my bench. As we moved through the crowd, he whispered. “Dorthals. They mine emeralds as common folk dig potatoes. A most favorable match for marriage.”

He cast me a knowing, suggestive look. I rolled my eyes. Oh yes, just what I longed for, a spoiled son of an ill-mannered boor.

When the bustle quieted, the proceedings began. Cassandra, standing for her husband the Regent Nicolas, stepped to the center and opened the Gathering.

It was the custom that from each Family the eldest present spoke first. One after another, folk rose and gave their names, until at last the stranger’s turn came.

“Dricus Cineris,” he said, calm as winter.

A murmur rolled through the court. Behind me whispers stirred.

“They say he burns his foes to ash.”

“They say no woman lived through a night with him.”

“They say he can set the desert aflame with a single breath.”