Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (2 page)

I walked toward the small table. This needed to be done, and I needed to do it fast because each second that passed meant more lives lost. The narrow drawer squealed open, and I reached in and pulled the box out then set it on top of the desk. It was a tiny box, a little larger than my hand, made of red wood from the Arborenne, and even after all these years it still smelled like sweet roses. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid—whether from cold or nerves, I didn't know—and there it was, just as it had always been. But today I would use it to do something I never dreamed would have to be done. Today, I would use it to save the people of Gaia.

2

DARIA

W
hen I opened my eyes, Sir Torren's hall was gone.

There were no walls or tapestries or torches. There was no long table surrounded by high-backed chairs. There was no Vera or Thad or Sonya.

Or Alex.

I was alone, and I wasn't entirely sure where I was.

Master Durus's amulet weighed heavily upon my chest, the chilled metal seeping through my thin blouse. Back in Sir Torren's hall, I'd wrapped my hands around the amulet and focused on Danton. That was how amulets worked: You focused on the place you wanted to go—in my case, to Orindor—and the magic stored inside the device would transport you there. Sort of like a handheld portal. I'd taken great pains focusing on Danton, imagining him the way he'd looked on the castle roof the night right before the games began, even though my mind kept superimposing that image of him with the one of him on Hell's Peak: the cruel and possessed psycho maniac. Still, the amulet should've taken me straight to him, maniac or no, but I couldn't see Danton anywhere. I couldn’t see
anything
anywhere, because I seemed to be standing in the middle of a cloud. At night.

Slowly, my eyes began to adjust. Giant shadows stood all around me, looming like veiled giants, and it took me a few moments before I realized those
veiled giants
were really just manicured hedges. Rows and rows of them, standing like massive pillars in a circle around me. A brisk breeze ruffled my cloak, bringing with it the scents of rain and freshly cut grass, and I drew my cloak close, wrapping my arms around myself. Apparently, I was in some sort of garden. What the heck was I doing in the middle of a garden?

That's when I heard a giggle. A very feminine giggle, followed by a smooth masculine voice.

Ohhhh.

Well, I hadn't considered…
that
. I didn't really know if the masculine voice belonged to Danton, but even if it did, it wasn't like I had any claim on him. I'd been
un
-claiming him for months, and I was pretty sure he'd gotten the point by now. Still, I preferred to leave these mystery lovers…well, a mystery, so I started walking in the opposite direction, and then hesitated. I'd left
everything
I loved—right in the middle of the night—in order to have a very important conversation with Danton, and if he was the identity of the male mystery lover in the garden, then I needed to know. If it wasn't him (which I really hoped it wasn't), then maybe whoever it was could direct me out of this hedge-maze to where I might be able to find Danton. I still didn't even know if I'd landed in Orindor, so maybe I'd ask that first. I took a deep breath, gathered my wits, and strode forward in the direction of Giggles.

It was difficult making sense of anything in this oppressive fog. Which was probably why the mystery lovers were out here in the first place. Giggles laughed again, a little to my left and much closer than I'd anticipated. Oh, this was just so awkward.

I told you not to come, you know.

Yeah, you say a lot of things.

But you really shouldn't be here. You don't love him and you never will.

I pinched my lips together and kept walking.

The man you love is on the other side of the world, and you walked away from him!

I didn't have a choice.

What was that you told Alex once? About always having a choice?

My next steps landed a little harder than necessary, and I stopped beside one of the hedges, cleared my throat and said, "Excuse me…?"

My unexpected summons was answered with a shock of surprise, a shuffling of fabric, and then…silence. I was about to open my mouth to say something more, when a shadow separated itself from a hedge just ahead. The shadow moved forward with, thank goodness, a very
human
gait, and it stopped a few yards in front of me.

Of course it was him.

Even in the darkness and haze, Danton's blond hair shone like soft moonlight. His eyes were hidden in shadow, and a soft ray of ambient light from a distant torch crossed over his fitted black tunic in an effervescent sash of gold. My heart beat a little faster. I hadn't seen him since Hell's Peak, and we certainly hadn't parted on the best of terms. Actually, I'd punched him in the face.

Maybe this hadn't been my best idea.

Danton's bewilderment swept over me, followed by a surge of anger that heated me where I stood. Definitely not a good sign.

What did you expect? He asked to marry you and you ran to the other side of the world—with Alex. You're lucky he's not yelling for his guards.

Conscience, two. Daria, zero.

I would need to tread forward very carefully. I
might
be the princess of Gaia, and my hand in marriage
might
have been highly coveted before, but right now, with the way things stood, I was the princess of a kingdom in severe distress. A kingdom that needed Orindor's help or it would fall prey to my uncle and his shadowguard. Right now, this princess did not have the advantage. Lord Danton Pontefract of Orindor did, and he knew it.

Danton took another step forward, and this time that sash of golden light slid to his face, illuminating his clear blue eyes. They were about as readable as a block of wood, but gauging by his swirling emotions, he hadn't written me off just yet. This gave my waning courage a much-needed boost. My ability to sense others' emotions
did
have its advantages.

"How?" was all he said.

I stopped clenching my cloak and let the panels fall open, exposing the amulet resting upon my blouse. His eyes drifted from my face and settled on the amulet.

"I see." His eyes slid back to mine. "I must admit, Princess, you are the last person I expected to find standing there."

"I know, and I'm so sorry I'm intruding on you like this," I said, "and I should've sent word, but I came as fast as I could to talk to you about—"

My words were cut off as Giggles manifested itself beside Danton in the shape of a young woman. No, not just any young woman, but Isla Justine, the girl I'd met at the castle during the games. The girl who'd tricked me into a pile of fire ants. My skin burned just thinking about it, and my hand suddenly ached for my dagger.

So
she
was who Danton had been messing around with out here? I guess I hadn't realized they were so…well acquainted. Isla's hair was more than a little out of sorts, and by the way her cloak angled from her shoulders, I guessed she'd thrown it back on in a hurry. She still hadn't recognized me, though, because she hadn't peeled her sappy doe-eyes from her demi-god lord yet.

"My lord?" Isla blinked coquettishly up at Danton, clinging to his arm in a very close and familiar way. I noticed he didn't return the familiarity, standing still as marble, with an inscrutable gaze locked on my face. "Are you going to introduce me to…" Isla's voice trailed as she finally—
finally
—recognized me.

And I'd thought Vera's glares could flay a person alive.

Isla's face expanded a little as her eyes and mouth opened wide. It was something like watching a flower of fury bloom, if fury flowers existed. Hey, it was Gaia. All things were possible.

I forced a very proper smile at her. "Good evening, Lady Isla. It's good to see you again." And it was. About as good as catching the bubonic plague.

Fury disabled her from responding, but I gave her the time she needed. No doubt she'd known of Lord Commodus Pontefract's intent for me to marry his son, Danton. At last, she cleared her throat and curtsied, as was proper. "Your grace," she managed in a small voice that trembled a little.

What was Isla to him? A lover? Or was she more than that? I remembered that she was Lord Vega's niece. Maybe Lord Vega had jumped on the "Let's side against Valdon" bandwagon after my outright refusal. I hadn't considered that alternative, and if that were the case, I might have a problem on my hands. A very big problem. But I kept my emotions masked.

I looked back at Danton. In contrast to Lady Giggles, he didn't have a single hair out of sorts. A professional Casanova. After a long and somewhat awkward silence, I said, "I see this isn't a good time. Maybe I could speak with you in the morning? In private? I only ask that you tell me where I should go in the interim."

Isla fumed beside Danton, and the fog swirled around her as if she were steaming. Danton, however, kept his expression perfectly neutral, which, according to my diplomacy lessons with Master Jaren of the guild, was a mark of Danton's upbringing in the aristocracy. He studied me like one studies a complicated math problem.

I waited, fighting to retain my calm and composure because I couldn't let Danton see how desperate I really was.

At last, Danton spoke. "That won't be necessary, your highness."

I wasn't sure which part wasn't necessary, so I waited for him to explain further.

"We can talk now," he said.

So he expected me to say whatever it was I had to say in front of Isla. That meant my chances of succeeding with him were about as high as the floor of the Mariana Trench. Just as my spirits began sinking, he dropped his arms to his sides, thus disengaging Isla from his grasp, and he inclined his head a fraction toward her. "Lady Isla, please excuse us. Her highness and I have important matters to discuss."

I could've sighed with relief. I almost did.

"Ah…of course…my lord." Isla blinked, nonplussed. "And where shall I wait for you?"

"Don't wait for me," he replied, his tone dismissive. "You know the way back."

Her lips parted ever so slightly, while her gaze dropped to the ground. "I do, my lord."

Danton took her hand and brought it to his lips, practically releasing it before his lips had even touched her skin. "Good night, my lady."

There was an infinitesimal piece of me that felt a prick of sympathy for the tricky fire ant girl. No one deserved to be discarded like that, and he'd tossed her aside like a piece of gum that'd lost its flavor. It was easy to see Isla was embarrassed, but when she looked back at me, that embarrassment was incinerated by cold fury.

"Highness." Her eyes narrowed as she curtsied, and in a whirl of fabric, she disappeared into the fog. Leaving me with Danton. Alone.

I looked back at Danton, who watched me with that same inscrutability. He was so good at it, despite the strong mixture of emotions churning inside of him, and within that tumultuous swirl, I felt a twinge of hope. It was all I needed, and I held on to it like a lifeline.

He raised a pale brow. "I never knew silence to be one of your…qualities."

"Sorry, I'm just…I'm not sure where to start. My lord."

"Danton," he corrected. "I think you and I are beyond titles—at least in private. Assuming that's all right with you."

"Yes, I just didn't want to assume, after…"
Breathe
. "Last time I saw you, I punched you in the face."

A grin quirked at his mouth. "Ah, yes, well, no damage done." He gestured to his face.

"Not on the outside, at least," I said.

He just looked at me, his grin still in place.

I wrung my hands together. "I guess I'm not sure how these things work."

"What
things
?"

"Marriages." The word felt awkward in my mouth. "Proposals. Arrangements."

His eyes moved around my face, and his little flame of hope burned brighter. "So, you came all the way here—in the middle of the night—to ask me how marriages work?"

I stopped wringing my hands, squeezed my eyes shut, and let out a frustrated and very unladylike groan. "No, this is all coming out all wrong…" I opened my eyes again and looked straight at him. "I came here because I understand that your father would like to ally himself with Valdon through a union between you and me, and if that proposition is still valid, I came here to tell you that I accept."

My words hung in the spaces between us, and Danton stood there staring at them. And staring and staring, and then he walked forward, right through my words, step after slow step, to where he finally stopped just a few close feet before me.

"I don't want a union, Daria." His voice was too intimate. "I want a marriage. Can you give me a marriage?"

"Marriages are built on trust, Danton, and considering my experiences with you, I'd say calling it a
union
is more than generous." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I covered my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

Danton shook his head as if shaking off my apology. "Now,
there
is the young woman I remember from the rooftops." Warmth glinted in his cold blue eyes, making him look less aristocratic and more…human. "No, I know I deserve that, just as I deserved that impressive right hook you delivered, and I probably deserve much more still. But for a moment there, I thought maybe the regency had…changed you."

"Oh, it has," I said. "Believe me, it has."

He studied me a moment, and then said, "And by that I assume you're referring to your being here now."

I opened my mouth and shut it again. This was not at all going how I'd planned. I was supposed to come here and tell him that I would marry him. Not remind him why I didn't want to.

"Look," I said. "You and I both know what our respective titles demand of us, and you know this better than I do. You even said it that night on the roof. Since then, I've accepted it. I won't pretend it's been easy. I didn't grow up knowing my life would be arranged for me, like you did, but I really have accepted it, Danton, and that's why I'm here. Willingly."