The Queen's Rising(74)

But as I sat in my appointed chair of honor, my gaze helplessly roamed the trestle tables set before us, seeking my master out despite my better judgment. He was sitting to the left of the hall, three tables away, yet he and I had a perfect view of each other. It felt like a chasm had opened up, cracking the tables, the pewter and silver, the tiles that stretched between us. His eyes were on me; my eyes were on him. And he raised his chalice ever so slightly and drank to me. Drank to my fooling him, drank to my reuniting with him, drank to the plans that entwined us not as passions but as rebels.

“So, my father says you are a passion of knowledge,” Sean said, trying to engage me in polite conversation.

I glanced at him, granted him a little smile. He was regarding me as if I were a flower with briars, the grandeur of my dress obviously making him slightly uncomfortable.

“Yes, I am,” I replied, and forced myself to take the platter of dove breasts that Sean handed me. I began to fill my plate, my stomach revolting at the sight of everything as it had been crunched all day by my corset. But I had to appear at ease, grateful. I ate and spoke to Sean, slowly adjusting to the cadence of the hall.

I was just asking Sean about the hunt and the hart when I felt Cartier’s gaze on me. He had been staring at me for a while, and I had stubbornly resisted, knowing that Allenach was also watching me from the corner of his eye.

“Has anyone seen the hart yet?” I asked Sean, dicing my potatoes and finally meeting Cartier’s gaze from beneath my lashes.

Cartier inclined his head, his eyes flickering to something. I was just about to follow his silent order to look at whatever he was perturbed about when the warmth of strings filled the hall. A violin.

I would know her music anywhere.

Startled, I glanced to the right, where a group of musicians—passions of music—had gathered with their instruments, their music beginning to claim the hall. Merei sat among them, her violin obediently propped on her shoulder, her fingers dancing along the strings as she began to harmonize with the others. But her eyes were on me, dark and lucid, as if she had just woken from a dream. She smiled, and my heart about escaped my chest.

I was so overcome I knocked over my chalice of ale. The golden liquid spilled down the table, onto my dress, onto Sean’s lap. The youngest son bolted upright, but I could hardly move. Merei was in the hall. Merei was playing. In Maevana.

“I am so sorry,” I panted, trying to catch my breath as I began to mop up the ale.

“It’s all right; these were my old breeches anyway,” Sean said with a crooked smile.

“Does music always affect you like that, Amadine?” Rian drawled from his end of the table, leaning over to watch as I helped Sean clean up the mess.

“No, but it is a pleasant surprise to hear it in a Maevan hall,” I replied as Sean resumed his seat, looking as if he had wet his pants.

“I like for my Valenian guests to feel at home,” Allenach explained. “The past few years, I have invited a consort of musicians for the season of the hunt.” He took a sip of ale, motioned for a servant to come refill my chalice although I was utterly finished with eating and drinking and trying to appear normal. “As one passion to another, they should make you feel at home.”

I chuckled, unable to help myself. Steam had been building in my chest ever since I had come face-to-face with Cartier. And now it was escaping, along with Merei’s music.

I had known she would travel the realm with her patron. But never had I imagined that she would cross the channel and play in a Maevan hall.

Merei, Merei, Merei, my heart sang along with its pulse. And as her music flowed over me, explored every corner and eave of the grand hall, I suddenly realized how dangerous it was for her to be there. She was not to know me; I was not to know her. And yet how could I sleep under such a roof, knowing she and Cartier were both here, so close to me?

Cartier must have already experienced this, the first night at Damhan, when Merei had unexpectedly emerged with Patrice Linville’s consort to play in the evening. Cartier must have told her to pretend that she did not know him, and so all I could do was pray she extended the same act toward me.

I thought of a myriad of ways to approach her under pretense, to find a way to speak to her alone, to explain to her why I was here. But all I could do was sit and listen to her, the hall growing quiet in appreciation of the music, my heart thrumming with longing and fear. Should I move or remain frozen?

I wanted to look at her; I wanted to rush to her. But I rose to my feet and glanced to Lord Allenach, smiling as I requested, “Will you escort me to my room, my lord? I fear I am exhausted from a long journey.”

He stood at once, the golden circlet over his forehead winking in the firelight. As he led me down the aisle, my eyes brushed over the tables to the left of the hall, one by one.

Cartier had disappeared.





TWENTY-THREE


TO PASS THROUGH A TAPESTRY



I did not expect to see a guard posted at my door. But as Allenach escorted me back to the unicorn chamber, I realized that I was to be watched and guarded. My face betrayed nothing, but my heart was tripping over my ribs as I realized there would be no way for me to sneak out to Cartier’s room, for me to sneak out of the castle to get the stone.

“For your protection, Amadine,” Allenach said when we came to the door, the guard standing as determinedly quiet as a statue. “With so many men in the castle, and you without an escort, I would not want you to come to harm.”