Tarotmancer, page 11
My father did one good thing, and that was to allow the citizens who had grievances against you to come forward, so tomorrow morning at sunrise all those in the kingdom may come forward to air their grievances. After which you may speak on your own behalf, but I warn you, if you so much as utter a word that I believe is deceitful or meant to twist the words of others, I will order your immediate execution.”
For the second time, Red felt like he’d been gut-punched. It came to him that he might die at sunrise. This Noble was nothing like the one he knew. He would have done anything to have his Noble sitting on the throne again.
Noble waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Take him back to wherever you’re keeping him.”
Red thought to talk his way out of it as he used to. He even entertained begging for his life, but he was too exhausted, too hungry and trembling, much to his embarrassment. He didn’t resist when someone grabbed his arm. It turned out to be Isengrim, who jerked him to his feet.
“See him,” Noble said as though Red were no longer in the room, “to be brought so low.”
Chapter Thirteen
Harper was relieved when they reached the doors until the group followed them inside. People came from every door and hallway. Perhaps it was just the almost crush of bodies and the mixtures of scents that made Harper shudder, but she wasn’t certain. If she had her cards….
It came to her as they entered what she assumed was the Great Hall, how much she depended on her cards. How many people did she know who followed their instincts when deciding? For her, it was always the cards. Was she so helpless? Incapable of following her own instinctive responses. If she had any to begin with?
All thoughts fled when the crowd parted again, and Harper found herself in the middle of the cavernous room and facing the king and queen of Vale.
They were…. Beautiful didn’t describe them. What word came to mind? Godlike? Well, she’d never seen a god or goddess, but if Harper had to guess, the royal couple were the closest thing to them.
It was the king that drew Harper’s gaze. His eyes held hers. They were a glittering amber, with coal-black irises that said, I am ruler here. The tawny fur of his mane surrounded his sculpted cheekbones, tapering down to his firm chin. The pristine white shirt he wore, opened to his waist, showed lean muscle covered in a fine golden fur. Harper had to fight not to allow her gaze to continue…downward.
Harper’s fingers moved, itched to place a hand against that chest to feel if the fur was as soft as it looked. Then she drew in a sharp breath. What’s wrong with me?
The king was looking right at her.
Dear Vine, had he heard—? No, mind reading was an old wives’ tale and anyone who claimed to do such was a liar, but Harper would swear that the king’s lips quirked up as he held her eyes.
Harper noticed the others kneeling until she felt a tug at her sleeve. It was Finnick, guiding her to do the same, or at least trying to. Harper had never bowed to anyone, and she’d be damned if she started now. So, she gathered herself up and locked eyes with the king again. Damn it all if the bastard didn’t look amused! Meanwhile, the gathered people, scandalized by Harper’s behavior, were whispering behind their hands or glaring at Harper with outright hostility.
“Welcome back, my loyal citizens,” the king said. “Please rise.”
He stood, holding out his hand to his queen, who grasped it, and they both descended from their thrones.
“Aislinn, my dear, so good to see you.”
They hugged her at the same time. It was a shock to Harper.
“And Finnick, you’re looking well.” They grasped hands, and the queen mimed kisses to his cheeks.
“Please forgive my intrusion,” Finnick said.
“Nonsense! You’re always welcome here.” Then that gaze returned to Harper. “And you must be the diviner. Lady Harper, welcome to my kingdom. As you well know, I am King Leonine Noble the Third.”
“Thank you,” Harper said, “but let’s not pretend I’m an honored guest. I’m a prisoner.”
“There are no prisoners,” Leonine said, “except for Reynard, of course.” The crowd chuckled. “But I understand why you say that you are not here by choice. I would blame Reynard for that.”
“I do.”
“Then I take it you will want to attend his trial tomorrow?”
She wanted to get the nether-hells out of Underneath. “Yes.”
“Done,” Leonine said. “Lucea?”
A young girl separated herself from the crowd, approached, and knelt before the king. “Yes, Your Majesty?” She wore a dark blue uniform of jacket and ankle-dress, which pooled out around her legs. It had red threading on the front and at the shoulders.
“Lady Harper is to be given our most comfortable of rooms. She is to be treated as an honored guest,” Leonine said. “You will see to her every comfort and report any displeasure to me, understood?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lucea climbed to her feet and approached Harper, curtseying, “Please follow me, milady.”
Harper wanted to say she was no milady and to just call her Harper but decided it might embarrass the girl, so she just nodded and followed.
Most servants she knew didn’t speak to guests because they risked punishment. Harper figured if Lucea was to see to her every need, they should at least be able to converse.
“So, what do you know about Reynard?”
Harper must have guessed right because Lucea responded, “Only what I’ve been told by my great-aunt and uncle.”
“And they are?”
“Prince Tybert and his wife, Felicity.”
“So, you’re a princess?”
“Oh no.” Lucea flushed. “I suppose I’m more a duchess. Although I serve our king.”
“The duchess rules my city of Innrone.”
“Does she serve your king?”
“In a sense,” Harper said, “but she doesn’t—
Lucea turned and grinned at her. “Escort guests?”
Too late to turn back now. “No.”
“What does she do?”
Besides sitting in a big chair and wave from a balcony? “I couldn’t venture a guess.”
Lucea giggled and stopped before a door. Harper supposed they’d arrived, for Lucea pulled a tiny gold chain from within her bodice. On the chain were a group of gold keys. Harper counted seven. What was it she’d heard about keys and locks being in sevens?
Although the key seemed too small for the lock, it fit. Lucea turned it with a click. Grasping the latch, she pushed the door inward. And although Harper didn’t see how she’d done it, Lucea removed the key and handed it to Harper. Was she imagining the slight tingle when it lay in her palm?
“This will be your room during your stay.”
Before she saw the room, she had asked how long that would be. She expected lavish and gaudy furnishings, but in fact, the room had a homey feel to it. There were fine furnishings made of polished wood and a four-poster bed large enough to sleep a whole family from market square. Harper let her gaze travel around the room. Glass doors opened out on a small balcony to her left, next to a desk and writing implements. One cabinet, shaped like a woman, was to the right. Next to the washroom was a dressing table.
Lucea was pushing her towards that door. “Now, I have a nice bath all set up for you.”
“You do? How did you….” Lucea hadn’t lied. A claw-foot tub filled with steaming water topped with a fluffy cloud of foam, which Harper was certain hadn’t been there before. There was another open-front cabinet filled with folded towels to her left, and on a small cart were what Harper assumed were cakes of soaps and colognes.
“Now, get cleaned up and I’ll lay some nice dresses out for you.”
Dresses?
“And if you need anything, just ring.” She nodded to the pull ring hanging from the ceiling near the doorway. Harper had seen them before when she was doing readings in the homes of more prominent merchants. Thinking of that made Harper think of the one thing she’d tried to push into the back of her mind – her precious deck.
Lucea was still speaking, but Harper had missed pretty much everything else she had said.
“Just call when you finish,” Lucea said. “Dinner should be ready by then.” And she bustled out as fast as she’d gotten Harper in.
“Well, now what in the nether-hells am I supposed to do?” Harper asked. The nearest they’d had to a bath in the den was a large round wooden tub and you had to boil the water and carry it up to the room, or at least she had to as bathing in the kitchen suited Pops and her brothers.
Seeing no reason not to, Harper hurried and stripped down and removed her dagger and sheath, wondering for a bit why they hadn’t taken it. She approached the tub, dipped one toe in, finding it hot. She lifted her other leg in and sank into the heat and silk. She let her dagger drop to the floor. Harper sighed in pleasure. If this wasn’t Up Above, it was close. After enjoying just lying in the water, Harper reached for a large sponge and went to work on every part of her body, scrubbing it raw. Next, she reached for what she hoped was shampoo, worked up a lather, and took care of her hair.
The water was tepid and a lot dirtier than she would have liked. She wondered if she could have another tub sent up. Wouldn’t hurt to ask. Harper rose from the tub and wiped off the excess water from her body. She stepped out and approached the towel cabinet. She chose the largest and wrapped it around herself. Then she walked over to the pull cord and gave it a yank. She heard bells in the distance, yet it seemed like no time before Lucea appeared.
“Would it be possible to get a clean bath?” Harper asked.
Lucea’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take care of it for you right now.” She moved toward the tub and knelt, dipping one hand into the water. She swirled it around like some dirt soup. Harper watched, fascinated. The water bubbled, and the murkiness vanished, the froth rising from clean, steaming water.
“There you are!” Lucea said and rubbed her dry palms together. “Please enjoy.”
“Wait,” Harper said, “you’re a witch?”
“Yes,” she said, “that is, I mean to say, I’m a chronomancer.”
“You jest!” Harper’s jaw dropped. She’d never met a real chronomancer. In fact, the power was so rare that only kings and queens could obtain their services. Which made sense why she served Leonine. “How wonderful.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied. “Enjoy.”
Harper did. When she finished again, she picked up her dagger and returned to the bedroom after finding a thick robe to wrap herself in. As she approached the bed, she saw them – dresses. Four to be exact, of various colors and designs, bejeweled in such a way that Harper knew would make the wearer a moving target in market square night or day.
Harper hated dresses. Since she was a toddler and a customer of the den had sewn her one in hopes Pops would give her more time to pay her debts. It had been a struggle to get Harper into it, and Pops had stood off to the side, laughing at the woman’s struggles. Meanwhile, Harper kicked and punched her way into it, and the moment the woman let her go, she made a beeline outside and had it dirty and torn before an hour had passed.
Pops had felt so bad about it he forgave the woman’s debt, and they did not make Harper wear a dress again.
Now here were four of them. She thought about asking for her trousers. Another tug on the rope and Lucea arrived.
“Yes, milady?” Her eyes darted to the dagger and back to Harper.
“Please call me Harper. We are sisters.” Harper stuck out her hand at the same time Lucea curtsied. She straightened and stood to grasp Harper’s hand.
“I hope you don’t mind me calling you again.”
“Not at all,” Lucea said. “The king is busy dealing with….” Lucea drew her hands down her skirt. “What can I do for you?”
“These.” Harper motioned with her hand towards the dresses. “Can you find me something else to wear?”
Lucea looked hurt. “Are these not good enough?”
Oh, dear Vine. “No, no, not that,” Harper said. “I’m sure they are for the ladies of the court, but I prefer a good pair of trousers.”
“Oh!” Lucea’s expression was first thoughtful, then resolute. “You can’t go before the king in trousers.”
“Why not?” Harper said. “If he doesn’t like it, he can—”
“No, no, it just won’t do.” Lucea shook her head and laid a finger on her chin, then she brightened. “I know, here, let me choose.”
Lucea approached the bed and then turned back to Harper. “We must work on your hair and makeup.” Before Harper could protest, Lucea took her dagger and tossed it onto the bed. “You won’t be needing this right now.”
You mean I’ll be needing it later?
“Your skin is so dark it glows. You’re beautiful, are you from Morwynne?”
“I don’t know,” Harper said, flattered.
Lucea approached her and took Harper by the elbow. She led her across the room to the dressing table, pulled back the chair and guided Harper to sit. “We’ll start with your hair first.” Lucea picked up a pink comb veined with white and began her work.
“Ow!”
“Sorry,” Lucea said, “you’ve got a lot of tangles here, but once I’m done, you won’t have to worry about them again. Just be certain you comb your hair out every day.”
Harper opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. Why was she allowing this girl to make her up like some harlot? She couldn’t guess. It turned out that wasn’t what Lucea was trying to do. In fact, the girl applied the cosmetics with a light touch, choosing her colors. When she turned Harper back to the mirror, she couldn’t help but draw in a breath. Her looks had always satisfied her and to hell with anyone who thought she didn’t meet their standards, but even she had to admit to liking what Lucea did.
“Thank you,” Harper said. “You’re very talented.”
“You look even more beautiful!” Lucea clapped her hands together. “And you’re welcome. Now for the dress, I think it will look nice.”
She picked up a ruby-encrusted monstrosity with a flared skirt. “No, not this one.”
“Lucea.” A thought occurred to Harper. “Do you have a split skirt?
“Oh yes, that I can do.” Lucea selected one in blue. The shirt flared, and the cloth of the skirt wrapped around from left to right with the jeweled button to secure it. And it didn’t have the opulence that the others did.
“Perfect,” Harper said. She didn’t protest as Lucea helped her into the dress. She needed it. But the young witch remained silent as Harper strapped on her dagger. Harper looked up to meet Lucea’s eyes, seeing the sadness there.
“You won’t need that here.”
“Lucea, despite what King Noble said, I am a prisoner. A pawn to use against Reynard.”
“Reynard cares for you?” Lucea asked.
“I have no idea,” Harper said.
Lucea didn’t press the issue and instead touched Harper on the elbow. “Come over here.”
There was a full-length mirror on the other side of the room. “Well, am I talented?”
Unlike other women, Harper wasn’t some dainty little thing. Years of working had left her well-defined and muscular. Still, Lucea’s choice of attire fitted her well, molding to her form and stressing her curves. Harper smiled.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lucea turned and walked back across the room, “One more thing.” She returned with a pair of boots dyed dark blue. “These should fit.”
She had Harper sit again and slipped the boots on, and they fit her perfectly.
“Perfect!” Lucea motioned Harper to the door. “Come along now, the king is waiting.”
Harper moved forward and tripped on the fine cloth.
“Goodness –” Lucea reached out and caught her, “– haven’t you ever walked in a dress before?”
“No.” Harper couldn’t hide her annoyance.
“Grasp the material and raise the skirt slightly and take your steps.” Lucea showed by lifting her own skirt.
“I’d still like a pair of trousers.”
There were a few false starts and near misses, but Harper felt she was getting the hang of it as they continued through the halls of the manor, where Harper got many an admiring look from both men and women they passed by. Harper tried not to glare at them.
They came to a room, where there were arched doors of white wood and carvings across their face painted gold. Two guards stood, one a man and the other a woman. They smiled as they approached them.
“Hello, Miss Lucea,” the woman said, reaching for the door latch, “the king is running a bit late, but he asked me to tell you he would be with our guest as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you.” Lucea again motioned Harper forward.
“You’re not coming in?”
“You’ll see me again soon,” Lucea assured her. “Make yourself at home. You’ll find a nice repast prepared.”
Then she was off. Harper stepped farther into the room, noticing on her right a table set, covered with every type of food imaginable and some she’d never seen before. It was enough for twenty people. Harper turned when she heard movement behind her.
“Greetings, Lady Harper.” Leonine was even more magnificent, if such a thing were possible. “I’ve been looking forward to speaking with you.” He motioned her towards the food-laden table. “Shall we?”
Chapter Fourteen
Harper realized she was hungry, and she wasn’t one of those women who ate like a bird. She filled her plate with many familiar things. Others were unfamiliar but looked good, anyway.
Leonine didn’t skimp either, which made sense. Afterwards, they walked over to the nearest couch and sat, laying their plates on a low table. Leonine asked, “Would you like to drink? Nothing strong, I assume?”
