Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) (25 page)

“Welcome to the State House.” She acknowledged the butler, noting his yellow and black suit as well as his tall black hat.

“If you will follow me, Princess?” He led her away from her companions up one of the wooden stairways flanking the foyer. He took her to a large bedroom where he introduced her to three maids. “These girls will tend to your needs,” he said.

She thanked him, then greeted her assigned helpers as he departed. “You work for the mayor and his wife?”

“Yes, my lady. We serve Master Vortain and his lady,” one of them replied, dipping in a low curtsy. The other girls followed her example.

“Um, no. I will have none of that,” Oganna said. “I do not keep servants.”

“But, my lady, that is what we are—”

She chuckled. “Maybe you were, but you
are
no longer. The mayor knows I do not approve—of servitude, that is. I will see to it that you are given wages for your services. Understood?” They nodded, but they still looked confused. She opened a nearby closet and surveyed the elaborate dresses. A delightful idea popped into her brain, and she stifled a laugh.

“Please,” she said to the girls, “go tell the staff to set three more places at the table for this evening.” They left to carry out her instructions.

“Now let me see,” she said when they’d gone. She laid the elaborate dresses on the bed. “Which four shall I choose?”

At the sound of a knock on her open door, she turned.

“May I enter?” Ilfedo stepped in, dressed smartly, with the mighty sword swinging from his belt. His creased, white pants were tucked into his freshly shined black boots. He wore a black shirt embroidered with gold, and long white gloves were on his hands.

After an affectionate embrace, he pointed to the bed. “Having trouble deciding which one to wear?”

“Not at all, Father. I think I’ll use the crimson-and-white one.”

“Then why the mess?”

She rolled her eyes. “The mayor assigned three maids to me—”

Ilfedo put a hand on her shoulder. “Do not do anything to embarrass our host. You may not agree with Vortain keeping servants, but he does them no wrong and they remain here of their own free will.”

“Father, you have told me time and time again not to worry what other people think but to do what I think is right.” She flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass him. I’ll just make him rethink his practices—and let him know I do not approve of keeping servants!”

“Very well.” He pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

As he left the room, the maids came back. “We did as you told us,” they said.

One of them came close. She had a pretty, dimpled face, and long red hair. “We’d heard rumors, my lady, that you also disapprove of
other
people keeping servants. Is it true?”

She laughed and ran her fingers like a spider down a strip of lace. “It most certainly is.”

“But this is how we earn our livings. We’re indentured. There is nothing we can do about it.”

Oganna held one of the dresses she’d chosen up to the girl’s shoulders. “Mm hmm … now, take this into the washroom and put it on.”

“My lady, I dare not!”

“Oh yes you do.” She gave the girl a gentle push and looked at the other two. “Don’t think you are getting out of this. I have dresses for you as well.”

They opened their mouths to protest, and she shook her head. “It would be indiscreet for you to challenge me on this matter. My father may tolerate some things that his men of state do, even if he questions it. However, one day
I
will be queen.” The warning seemed to drown out their protests. She saw to it that they changed, then slipped into her crimson dress. It fitted her perfectly.

When the maids finished dressing, they returned to the room and fought over the mirrors. When Oganna put on her dress, they put their hands over their mouths and squealed with delight. “You will drive the lads crazy with that!”

“I hope not.” She eyed the others and whistled. “You girls
will
be driving the lads crazy.”

They looked horrified. “Our lady, we cannot go to the banquet.”

She listened for a time as they raised objections, but in the end waved them aside and shooed them ahead of her through the door. “There will be many eligible young bachelors at this party, and they will have to be fools to pass up you three.”

“No one will have us,” one protested. “We are mere maids.”

“Nonsense! The honorable young men may be fewer than the fools, but the honorable ones will not care about your social standing. And those who do, cannot help noticing that you enter with the Lord Warrior’s daughter.”

“But we don’t know anyone—”

She sped toward the dining hall. “Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you.”

Under the vaulted ceiling of the dining hall stood a hefty, carved table of mahogany. Its eight thick legs curled up from the floor, shaped to spiral to the tabletop. Oganna guessed it was just over forty feet long. Finely dressed gentlemen and ladies rose from their chairs as she entered, and she spotted her father at the table’s far end.

The mayor’s wife frowned at the maids, and Vortain himself followed her example. He ran his fingers through his long blond hair until she caught his eye and nodded. He relaxed his shoulders and bowed as she sidled up to him.

“I do not need servants, Vortain,” she whispered in his ear.

When his gaze returned to the maids and their fiddling fingers, she smiled. “What sort of a queen do you desire? I could have a retinue; indeed your own daughter might be my servant. Or shall I make peace with all that I meet and treat them as my equals?”

“If I may speak with all honesty, Princess.” He folded his hands behind his back and scowled. “To build a kingdom requires strength of arm. Your diplomacy endears you to all you meet. But when you are queen, no one will be your true equal. If you lead this nation into a glorious future it will be
your
name that is remembered, and none other.”

She bowed and gazed up into his eyes. “Without the hearts and minds of the people, Vortain, where is our strength?”

His face relaxed, and the hint of a smile touched his mouth as he dipped and kissed her hand. “Truly you will make a great and memorable queen, my lady. Shall we continue this debate at another time?”

She pulled back her hand with a nod and gestured to the maids. “These are lovely young ladies, and I hope you will extend to them the same courtesy that you have to me and the rest of my father’s guests.”

“As you wish, Princess.” He managed a smile in the direction of the maids. “Your word, as it always shall be, is my command.”

Nodding gracefully to the other guests, she bid them, “Good evening,” and sat beside her father, indicating that the three girls were to sit on her other side.

Ilfedo put his arm around her shoulder, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear. “There’s a rumor circulating that you bested Caritha in a sword match.”

Catching the praise in his voice, she kissed his cheek.

He chuckled. “Well done, my daughter. Well done.”

They greeted Laura, Evela, Levena, and Rose’el as they arrived. Honer and his wife Eva came next. The woman paused by Oganna’s seat. Oganna took her hand, and Eva returned a squeeze. Shortly thereafter Ganning limped in with his wife on his arm. Now only two seats remained empty, one for Ombre and one for Caritha.

As the moments passed and neither showed, Oganna wondered where they had gone. “Father, do you know if Uncle Ombre and—” She hushed as his eyes looked past her to the entry doors. Ombre marched across the polished floorboards in a green dress coat and white trousers. His black boots shone, and his sword swung in its sheath by his side.

Caritha, her face slightly flushed, was holding his arm. She was arrayed in a fine dress of lavender, and her hair had been brushed until it shone like the still surface of a lake. Twin ruby earrings glinted in the lamplight, and a necklace of miniscule jewels adorned her neck. Her feet were bare. As she followed her escort to her seat, she allowed him to seat her before he settled beside her.

Their entrance created no small stir. Oganna saw people whispering to each other and could well imagine the questions they were asking. She couldn’t help wondering herself: Was this the beginning of a permanent relationship? The answers were nobody’s business—not even hers. She would have to wait to see how events unfolded.

Later that evening, as the guests filtered into the flower gardens, Oganna followed, stopping on one of the porches. The cool night air smelled of perfume and a lone cloud drifted across the sky. Ombre and Caritha walked along a path toward one of the fountains.

“Keeping an eye on our lovebirds?” Laura came up behind her.

Oganna had been resting her hands on the deck railing. Now she turned to reply. “If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up that it is permanent.” Laura nodded toward the couple. “Caritha is probably just fulfilling her end of that little bet she made with him earlier today. Still—I suppose if she didn’t like him, she wouldn’t be with him.”

Oganna crossed her arms. “I hope there is more to it than simply keeping her word. They are two of a kind.”

A moment’s silence passed before Laura spoke. “Don’t rest hope on it, for a union between them could never be. That would result in a child … and that would be the end of her.”

At first Oganna felt like laughing her aunt’s statement aside, but there was something cold about the way Laura had said it, as if she spoke from a deeply rooted conviction. “Why? Why would you say that?”

Laura shook her head and sighed.

“Does this have something to do with what happened to my mother? Are you saying she would have lived had I not been born?” A tear fled her eye, running down her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Laura wiped away the tear with her sleeve, then she sighed again and gazed after the couple. “Your father never told you how and why your mother died, did he?”

“No. He hasn’t.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

“She died giving birth to me. What more is there to know?”

Laura gazed back at her and tears formed in her eyes until they shone. “Giving birth, for a dragon’s daughter, is always her last deed in the land of the living. Your mother knew she would die the day she found out she was pregnant. She fought to live, but ultimately the power in her blood had to be given to you—otherwise
you
would have died. So, you see, it was and was not by her choice.” She swept her hand in a circle. “And the same is true of Levena, Rose’el, Evela, myself, and—yes—even Caritha. Ombre may want her fiercely and she may want him, but they could never be together.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Rose’el joined them. She was frowning down at her dress. “Tore the fabric on that wicked chair,” she muttered.

A young man in a long suit jacket swaggered toward them. His eyes fixated on Oganna. “Hi there,” he said to her. He excused his way between Laura and Rose’el to her side. “I am Faynor.”

After Laura’s revelation, Oganna was not feeling social, and Faynor’s manners lacked discretion, so she excused herself and moved toward the garden. The young man followed several paces behind. Perhaps he had mistaken her departure for an invitation.

“Faynor,” she said, turning to face him, “I am not interested in your advances. If you wish to be a gentleman, you will leave me be.”

He smiled in a foolish way and proffered his arm. “Later there will be dancing—”

“Thank you for your offer, but I am not interested.” She left him and wandered alone through the gardens.

To her delight she stumbled upon the maids who’d been assigned to her. A dark-haired young man accompanied each of them. Each of the youths bowed to Oganna and politely moved aside. The girls’ faces were no less than radiant. Oganna slipped past them, smiling encouragement and nodding as each girl lipped a “thank you.”

Finding a quiet spot on a bench surrounded by petunias, she settled back. Nearby, hidden somewhere behind a shrub, she could just make out Ombre talking with Caritha. His words were too soft for her to pick out, and she was glad, for if he wanted her to know of what he spoke, he would tell her later. She was content to sit on the bench where her presence would not disturb them while she listened to the rhythm of their conversation.

Laura’s words rang in her mind, but her aunt’s fears seemed misplaced. Better to fear that Caritha would judge her own life more valuable than Ombre’s love. She smiled to herself. Yes, and that is what her mother would have taught her, or had taught her by making such a sacrifice on her behalf. True love had no price.

Above her the sky filled with stars. Tonight was the time of new moon, the darkest night of the month. The constellations decorated the heavens. She picked out her favorite: the Fire Tree. It lay near the celestial pole, its imaginary branches marked by a plethora of bright star clusters and gas clouds.

Below the Fire Tree stretched the Blood Sword. Eight emerald stars formed its handle, six gold stars represented the sword’s guard, and twenty brilliant ruby stars made up the blade. To the west a tiny comet blazed its steady trail of white across the heavens, and overhead a great fireball suddenly burst, lighting the ground in one flash as it burned through the atmosphere and burst apart without a sound.