Legacy (14 page)

My father's smile broadened, showing that he was favorably impressed by the young man's comportment. Most Hytanicans viewed Cokyrians as ruthless thieves and murderers; therefore, a boy who had grown up among them was not expected to have such a respectful manner. While my father did not easily succumb to closed-minded notions, I knew some part of him believed Cokyrians to be so insufferable that even he expected less of Narian because of where he had been raised.

I did not share these prejudices, perhaps because I knew very little of Cokyri and the horrors of the war, but still I was perplexed by Koranis's son. While we knew nothing of his upbringing, his pattern of speech and impeccable manners provided proof that he had been well bred, and yet his demeanor
suggested a harsher childhood. I glanced at Cannan, whose dark eyes seemed to be taking stock of Narian, and realized he, too, was struggling to figure out the mysterious boy.

Lanek departed, as it would be his role to inform the King when all of the guests had arrived, and my father and mother took up their seats on the raised platform in the corner of the room, conversing with the Baron and Baroness. Semari, Miranna and I resumed our small talk while the younger children claimed the sofa. Cannan stayed by the door, his interest held by Narian, who once more stood with a shoulder against the wall.

I wanted to ask Semari about her older brother just as I had that day in the marketplace. Had anything changed now that he was actually living with them? Had he spoken further about his past? But I refrained, as to do so might seem rude, especially with Narian nearby.

After about half an hour, Lanek returned, and the aide who granted him entry swung the door fully open so that the Elite Guards in the corridor could follow after us when it came time to enter the Royal Ballroom.

“Sire, the nobility have arrived and await your pleasure,” Lanek reported with a deep bow.

“Very well,” my father said, rising to his feet. He motioned toward the doors across the room from him as he added, “It is time to greet our guests.”

My mother stood, and after smoothing her gown and her hair, linked arms with my father as she always did when they made public appearances. They stepped down from the platform and crossed the room, while Cannan pushed open the doors that led into the ballroom and proceeded through them to make way for Lanek. The stocky, small-statured man
marched up the steps onto the stagelike platform and took a deep breath.

“All hail the King, King Adrik of Hytanica, and his Queen, the Lady Elissia,” he boomed, and hundreds of eyes turned toward us and then were lowered in respect, as those gathered bowed or curtseyed to their sovereign.

My parents stepped forward and Miranna and I followed, moving to stand beside our mother. We would not be receiving a formal introduction as had the King and Queen, for the event was not in our honor, but all the same, the people were showing respect to us as well.

“Welcome,” my father proclaimed, starting his introduction as he always did. “On this occasion, we honor a family that has, for many years, served this kingdom well, and in so doing has earned my friendship as well as that of my queen and our daughters. I present to you the Baron Koranis and his wife, the Baroness Alantonya, their daughters, Lady Semari, Lady Charisa and Lady Adalan, their youngest son, Lord Zayle, and the young man whose startling return has provided the impetus for this gathering—their oldest son and firstborn child, Lord Kyenn.”

Koranis and his family stepped forward on my father's right as they were introduced, and the guests gave a vigorous round of applause at the end of the King's speech.

Cannan led my parents down the set of stairs on the ballroom side of the stage and the rest of us followed, the guards who protected the King and Queen bringing up the rear. A seating area with two thrones had been readied to the right of the platform, and my parents would spend most of the evening there, greeting guests and speaking to those who sought an audience with them. Ornate chairs had been set in the same area for Miranna and me, though we were unlikely to use
them. While my father would no doubt expect me to wait for Steldor, I was set on avoiding the young man who had permission to court me, intending to mingle with the crowd in an earnest effort to find a different suitor. Narian and his family would also move among the aristocracy, making less formal introductions and engaging in small talk, although the younger children would run off to find their friends.

Tonight the ballroom was arranged so that two long refreshment tables lined its sides, with the area in the middle occupied in part by a dance floor. The remaining space was left open, providing an area for people to meet and chat. As the purpose of the gathering was to welcome Narian into Hytanican society, the colors that dominated the decor in the room were Hytanica's royal-blue and gold.

Walking with Miranna through the vast hall, I scoured the crowd for what my sister kept referring to as “a good catch.” It wasn't long before young men were coming up to me everywhere I turned, having taken my glance in their direction as an invitation to approach. While I needed to find a suitor other than Steldor who would be acceptable to my father, I soon tired of the monotonous interactions. Every gentleman to whom I spoke had apparently been taught to greet me in the same way: “Good evening, Princess Alera. You look beautiful tonight…. And what lovely weather we are having.”

Even Miranna, who was far more boy-obsessed than I, was growing weary of these clumsy flirtations. She seized the opportunity to escape the boredom when she spotted someone she knew across the room close to one of the refreshment tables.

“Oh, look!” she exclaimed, taking my hand in hers and tugging at it. “There's Temerson! I must go speak with him.”

After pinching her cheeks to raise their color and fluffing
her curly hair, she sashayed toward the bashful sixteen-year-old. As she approached, his eyes widened in panic, and I wondered if he knew he was fast becoming her favored escort.

Unfortunately for me, my sister's departure meant that I would now have to brave the guests on my own. I moved toward my parents, desiring a break from the males swarming around me, noticing Steldor halfway across the room as I did so. Galen was, of course, at his side, and the two friends were surrounded by a group of girls who were giggling and blushing at every utterance that came forth from their mouths. Although Steldor was likely toying with the affections of the other girls in an effort to make me jealous, I was very content with this tactic. I did not care with whom he flirted as long as he kept his distance from me.

I looked ahead at the large group of people surrounding my parents, then rethought my destination, opting instead to visit the dance floor on the other side of the ballroom. While I had no desire to dance this evening, I appreciated the music and was curious as to who was courting whom.

My eyes were on the musicians as I approached, for they seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the dancers. They performed using a variety of instruments including mandolins, lutes, a dulcimer, the flute and various types of recorders and drums. Depending on the instruments used, the sound ranged from beautiful and haunting to fast and wild.

Standing at the edge of the dance floor, I couldn't help but smile at the absolute delight on the faces of every individual spinning in the arms of another. As the couples moved around the crowded floor, my gaze came to rest upon Miranna and Temerson. They were by no means the most refined couple present, and at times it was difficult to tell who was leading
and who was following, but they were laughing and smiling and having more fun than anyone else I could see.

My spirits lifted as I listened to the music and beheld the movement. My good mood evaporated, however, when I glanced behind and saw Steldor making his way toward me.

I scanned the room for an escape route, some way I could flee without making my intent to avoid him obvious. I moved away, hoping he did not know that I had seen him. When his progress was impeded by several parents keen on introducing him to their daughters, I hastened to the back of the ballroom, where the wide-open balcony doors beckoned. As I stepped out into the warm late-August air, I looked over my shoulder to confirm that Steldor's progress was still hindered. Satisfied that I had eluded him, I turned, expecting to be alone. I was not.

MY HEART BEGAN TO THUMP MUCH TOO FAST AS I saw Narian leaning back against the railing, his hands resting on either side of him on the dark wood, barely visible in the sudden change from the brightness of the ballroom to the moonlit balcony. A slight smirk curled his lips, belying his otherwise serious countenance.

“I didn't mean to startle you, Princess,” he said, straightening to give me a respectful bow, his face smooth and unreadable now that his smile had vanished. His speech was refined, with a faint but pleasing accent, and his tone was rehearsed, as if he had been taught how to speak to people of status.

“You are forgiven, Lord Narian,” I said, addressing him formally as I endeavored to regain my composure.

Trying to mask my unease, I glided to the railing a discreet distance from where he stood and rested my forearms upon its surface. He casually moved closer to me, turning to face the railing and assuming a posture similar to my own.

“Think me impudent if you will, but I must inquire as to what a princess is doing out here on this balcony in the middle of such a grand gala.”

I tossed my hair over my shoulders and gazed at him, drawn to his intense blue eyes. Unable to pull away, I stared into them as though I might break through the floor if I looked anywhere else.

“I have my reasons,” I answered, acutely aware of his proximity. “On occasion I come out here to avoid the crowd.”

My skin was prickling, and I felt disconcerted, although I could not have identified good cause for my reaction. Irritated at myself, I posed an inquiry of my own.

“Now I must ask what the guest of honor is doing out here on this balcony with so many people inside clamoring to meet him?”

“Avoiding the crowds or avoiding that dark-haired gentleman?”

Narian had sidestepped my question, and I was unnerved by both the intrusive nature of his query and the astuteness of his observation. How could he have known Steldor had designs on me? For what purpose had Narian been watching me? Despite the warning now flashing through my brain, I could not bring myself to move away from him, for I was as enticed by him as I was flustered.

“Lord Steldor might have something to do with it. He is the son of Cannan, the Captain of the Guard.” I half expected a reaction to the mention of the man who had arrested him, but there was none. “He wishes to take my hand in marriage.”

“And you do not return his affections.” He turned toward me, one hand now resting on the railing.

“No,” I admitted.

Although I felt I had said too much already, I was compelled to continue by his unwavering show of interest. Here was someone other than London who was listening to me, rather than brushing me aside because I was a woman.

“It is what my father desires, not I. Steldor is hot-tempered and spoiled, and I do not see him as making a good king, now or in the future. But my father will see to it that Steldor becomes King, no matter my feelings.”

I stopped, embarrassed that I was pouring out my deepest secrets to someone I barely knew, and perturbed that he had so easily inspired me to share such confidences. This was not a topic about which I readily spoke, and I had not voiced my opinions about Steldor and my father's edict that we be wed to anyone other than London and Miranna.

“I'm sorry,” I fumbled. “I should not be saying this to you.”

“There is no need to seek my pardon. I, too, despise having my life laid out for me.”

Although Narian had pinpointed my feelings with his casual statement, I was not about to acknowledge it.

“If my words have implied that I am dissatisfied with my obligations as Crown Princess of Hytanica, I certainly meant no such thing,” I said.

“I understood no such thing,” he responded with a hint of a smile, as though he knew what I was doing. “Duty is important. But at some point you have to choose whether to carry out your duties or live your life.”

“And what would you know of such matters?” I pressed. I waited as he stared for a moment at the flickering lights coming from the lanterns in the city.

“We should go back inside,” he advised, once more disregarding my question. “I'm sure someone has noted the absence of the Crown Princess and the guest of honor.”

I nodded, not foolish enough to be disappointed by his reluctance to provide answers.

“Shall I escort you back to your parents?”

“Perhaps it would be best if we went in separately,” I suggested, my thoughts flying to Steldor and his temper.

Narian, as if reading my mind, asked, “Are you afraid of Steldor?”

“No!” I exclaimed, not willing to admit that the man I detested was the reason I dared not be seen with Narian. “I do not fear Steldor.”

“Then are you fearful of what people will think?”

“Of course not.”

“Then it will be my honor to escort you.”

Having no further basis for objection, I accepted his arm and together we walked through the balcony doors to rejoin the celebration.

As soon as we entered the ballroom, my eyes connected with Steldor's and I halted, knowing there would be no escaping this time. He had seen me move toward the balcony and had come looking for me, and now stood but fifteen feet away. I could almost feel the anger simmering inside him as he took note of my hand nestled in the crook of another man's arm. He strode to where we stood, then put his arm around my waist, twisting me forcefully away from Narian.

“I can take it from here, thank you very much.” He spat the words as he held me at his side.

“Steldor, let me go!” I demanded, straining against him.

He did not comply, instead wrapping his arm more tightly about me. I guessed that he'd had too much to drink this evening, as a gentleman with his upbringing would normally have had the good sense to release me.

As practiced as he was at hiding his emotions, Narian could not disguise his disdain in the face of Steldor's behavior.

“It would seem that Princess Alera does not welcome your advances,” he said.

“And who are you to speak for the Princess?” Steldor retorted, pushing me behind him.

“She spoke quite clearly for herself, though you did not heed her.”

“Stay out of this, Cokyrian,” Steldor growled, his eyes dark with menace.

The heads of the people around us had begun to turn, and the surrounding area had stilled. Pleasant banter had ceased, as everyone's attention was now riveted upon Steldor and Narian.

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” Narian asked, having taken no offense whatsoever to having been called a Cokyrian.

“No, that was a warning.”

“Then consider me warned.”

Narian did not yield as Steldor stepped toward him, fists clenched, and I cast about for someone who could intervene and prevent the clash between the two young men from becoming more heated. I saw no one in the immediate crowd who would be of help, as the guests were too busy watching the altercation unfold to think about putting a stop to it. While Steldor's friends, Galen, Barid and Devant, had joined the circle, they had no interest in interfering. To the contrary, their faces showed they were relishing the action. For the first time since he had become my bodyguard, I longed for Tadark, but then just as desperately hoped he would stay away, knowing he would be ineffectual at best and might make the situation worse.

Narian and Steldor were now standing less than two feet apart, and the unsettling thought that Steldor might strike Narian flashed through my brain. Steldor was almost four inches taller and more heavily muscled than his challenger, leading me to believe Narian might actually be in danger. The
fact that Steldor was capable of overpowering almost anyone in Hytanica was no comfort.

“Steldor, that's enough,” I implored, coming up beside him and grabbing his arm to no avail. “Come with me, my lord, and we can talk,” I persisted, now tugging on his arm to get his attention. “This isn't necessary.”

He jerked away from me, and I stumbled back in alarm.

“What?” he scorned, nodding his head in Narian's direction, “Your pretty boy can't take care of himself? He needs to be saved by a woman?”

“You will not speak to the Princess in such a manner,” Narian interjected, authoritative in a fashion I would not have thought possible. “If your fight is with me, then you will address
me.
”

Steldor rounded on Narian, his rage rising to the point where it was almost an audible rumble.

“Perhaps you should run off to Mama and Papa before you get hurt,” he taunted.

He shoved his challenger in the chest, trying to push him backward, but Narian shifted his weight to absorb Steldor's prod. As Narian stood his ground, Steldor's eyes burned, and I knew he was dangerously close to exploding.

“Did you hear what I said?” he demanded, jabbing Narian with increasing force.

“I heard what you said, but perhaps you should be more concerned about your father than about mine.”

Steldor faltered and his eyes flicked over the crowd, as if he worried Cannan might be among the spectators, then returned to rest on Narian's face. A flush crept up his neck, for the younger man had deduced one of his only vulnerabilities.

I felt ill, knowing that Narian was too brave, or perhaps too foolish, for his own good. I feverishly searched the vicinity,
and caught sight of several guards conversing near the western wall. In the midst of them I saw Destari, and I willed him to notice my plight.

After a moment, he glanced in my direction, then stepped away from the other guards to stride toward me. Tall enough to peer over the heads of the other guests, he assessed the situation and quickened his pace. He had no idea how anything had started or exactly what was taking place, but all the same, Steldor was involved, and everyone in the military knew of the youthful commander's fiery temper. “I said,
move!
” Steldor thundered, and Narian assumed a fighting stance with his forearms in front of his chest and his left foot slightly ahead of his right. As Steldor employed his full weight to drive him back, Narian deflected his lunge with ease.

For an instant, Steldor looked stunned, then he balled up his fists to strike. Fortunately, Destari stepped between the two of them at that moment, putting a hand on Steldor's chest to restrain him.

“This is not the place for such conduct,” he admonished in his deep and powerful voice.

Steldor thrust Destari's hand away in another attempt to get at Narian, but the Elite Guard gripped him firmly by the arm.

“Get out of my way!” Steldor demanded, fixing Destari with a glare that contained all the loathing he could rally. Unwisely he landed one great shove upon his superior officer's shoulder.

“If you are a smart man, you will not try that again,” Destari warned, his black eyes glistening.

Steldor took a step back, and as he did so, glanced past Destari, whereupon I saw his resolve weaken. Though his
anger did not diminish, his face paled, and I followed his gaze to where Cannan, composed yet dangerous, stood just outside the circle of people surrounding us. The captain must have seen that trouble was brewing, and had come to deal with whatever the problem might be. I suspected that by the time he had drawn near, Destari had arrived on the scene, and Cannan had decided to let him handle things so Steldor did not have to suffer the indignity of being reprimanded by his father in front of all these people.

“You need to cool off,” Destari said to Steldor through gritted teeth, not raising his volume. “Go. And that's an order.”

With one final vindictive glower at the Elite Guard, my hotheaded suitor turned and, motioning to his friends to join him, stormed off, to where I knew not.

I thought about Steldor's reaction to his father, and knowing what I did about Cannan's status and temperament, I could understand Steldor's reluctance to cross him. Cannan was a confident and decisive man of action who was known to have a formidable temper, although it was much better controlled than that of his son. I did not know of a single person who was not, to some extent, intimidated by the Captain of the Guard, and Steldor had grown up answering to him. As Cannan had an uncanny ability to see right through people, it was inconceivable that he was taken in by his son's charm. Steldor also had to deal with the fact that Cannan was not only his father, but his military leader, and in that role, would tolerate no disrespect.

For a brief moment following Steldor's ignominious exit, Destari and Cannan locked eyes, then both of them scrutinized Narian, attempting to sort out what they had just seen. What manner of sixteen-year-old boy would challenge Steldor, much less do so without a sign of trepidation?

Narian did not acknowledge the military men, but simply held out his arm once more to me. “Shall we?”

I clutched at him, feeling weak in the knees, and for a moment leaned against him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and I could feel his breath upon my cheek.

“Yes, of course,” I murmured, then I straightened, giving him a feeble smile. “Let's just move on.”

As we walked toward the front of the ballroom, people continued to gawk, although they resumed their activities upon our passing. The entertainment was over, and there was no need to waste such a delectable evening.

Having recovered my poise, I thanked Narian when we reached the sitting area where my parents were holding court. Koranis and Alantonya were nearby, and motioned their son over for additional introductions. As he joined them, I wondered who he truly was, for I knew his name and little else. How could he, a boy one year my junior, be so courageous? Grown men quaked in the face of Steldor's temper, but Narian had not so much as flinched. Perhaps he had underestimated Steldor's skill, or overestimated his own, and all in my defense.

I was flattered, though I supposed his actions had nothing to do with me personally. As Semari had told Miranna and me in the market, Narian had an unusual amount of respect for women, and had no doubt been offended by Steldor's treatment of me on that basis alone. As I mulled this over, I realized how unaccustomed I was to being taken seriously. I had been taught all my life how to be a lady, a submissive being (though my actions were sometimes viewed as less than appropriate), and the rapt attention Narian had paid to my
opinions out on the balcony had made me feel credible and important in an entirely new way.