Other Lives(3)

“I know he is very proud and very concerned about the way his family is perceived.”

“I’ve never met my grandfather. My mother’s family … he said it wasn’t a suitable match. He doesn’t speak to us.”

Miranda shook her head and the maid sighed, turning to put away the ugly yellow rags in favor of something else.

“Don’t mention that to Darius,” he said. “Those messy little details…I’d leave them until the wedding date is set.”

“You really think I’m going to marry that man?”

“When my cousin told me about you I knew you were the perfect bride for Darius.”

“Poor, desperate and pretty?” she inquired.

Miranda looked at Nikolaos without turning around, instead gazing at his reflection.

The maid had now picked a serious black velvet. It was too simple a dress for Darius who preferred much more elaborate gowns, but Nikolaos figured it an efficient solution.

“That,” he decided quickly. “And the pearls.”

Miranda, busy putting a couple of delicate silver hair combs in place, frowned.

***

She stepped into the room hanging on to Nikolaos like a woman afraid of drowning. Miranda felt silly with her hair pinned up and her expensive pearls, walking through a crowd of loud strangers.

In Nortre she stayed at home as much as possible. Salons, even if she had been invited – which was never the case – were strictly forbidden. Her aunt advocated piousness and needlework instead.

She wondered what her aunt would say now, her hand linked to the arm of a man she barely knew. Why, she had been furious about Giustian and he’d known her almost all her life. Poor Giustian. She couldn’t really afford to think about him now since Nikolaos was talking again.

“He likes happy people,” Nikolaos muttered. “Smiles and entertainment and wittiness.”

She wondered if she could be any of those things.

“Stop fretting. He’s right there,” Nikolaos warned. “Do not bore him.”

As they moved closer she saw him. He was younger and better looking than she’d expected. Miranda shuddered remembering her fiancé. Hadrian’s repulsive breath still lingered dangerously close in her memory. She had placed her hands against the cool surface of the mirror and…

She shook her head. No need to think of him.

Hadrian was mercifully dead while Darius seemed very much alive.

A pretty woman, standing by Darius’ side, caught sight of them first and smiled.

“Nikolaos. You have returned,” she said loudly. “You bring a friend too.”

“I do. Lady Miranda, this is my liege, the marquis Darius Lerae. And of course, the Lady Retha.”

“I told Darius you were up to something,” said the woman, playfully tapping his shoulder with a fan. “Here you are appearing out of nowhere with a girl. What have you been up to Nikolaos?”

“Nothing exciting. Meeting with relatives.”

“Are you family?”

“No,” Miranda said quickly. “No, I’m just visiting with Nikolaos for the winter.”

“Nikolaos, is she joking? She’ll be bored to death. The winter is dreadful at Asenat.”

“My uncle thinks it would to do me well to meet with some more people my age and Nikolaos is a friend of the family. I live in Nortre and since my cousin married, it’s a little lonely in our household,” she said, as they’d rehearsed. Saying her uncle basically sold her off to a stranger did not sound adequate, but the lines she had spouted were spoken with an utter lack of conviction, the words strained and listless.

“Well, Nortre, no wonder. I stopped there once on my way to Lenevo. The whole place has more sheep than people,” Retha quipped. “If it weren’t for the port I assure you it would have been deserted decades ago and left for the sheep.”

The woman chuckled and Darius was grinning. Miranda glanced at Nikolaos feeling lost.

“I’m glad to see you are safely back,” Darius said to Nikolaos, but his face lacked any mirth. “You should have dinner with me and tell me about your trip.”

“Of course.”

Darius nodded and turned away. He had barely glanced at her. Miranda wasn’t sure if he’d known she was even there.



3



It was all very different from home. Asenat was a relatively new fortress built over the remains of a previous much smaller castle. But what it lacked in age it made up in grace. Decorated wooden panels, painted ceilings, colored glass windows enhanced the edifice.

Most notorious was the garden. In the summer Miranda had been told carved fountains filled with the murmur of water and flowers bloomed all around. For now the ground was cold and dead.

Sitting next to a stone lion, Miranda shoved some twigs aside with her foot while contemplating the bare soil. In their house at Nortre there had been an interior courtyard with two flower beds. She’d always envied the richer families who could have real gardens with exotic plants instead of a few sad daisies.

Miranda tried to imagine the garden as it would look in the spring. She didn’t think she’d remain around long enough to see it.

“You’ll freeze,” said Darius. “It’ll snow soon.”

She hadn’t noticed him approaching and was startled when he appeared by her side. She managed to compose herself, nodding at him.