Sapphire Crescent (21 page)

“Just look at you,” she said softly. Then she finally crushed the girl in a tight hug. “It’s wonderful having you as my sister-in-law.”

Marga kissed Emriana on the cheek, and Emriana flushed with emotion, genuinely happy.

The twins both hugged their aunt at the same time, wrapping their arms around her waist.

“You look beautiful,” Obiron said.

Emriana smiled down at her nephew.

“If you promise to behave, I’ll dance with you later,” she told him.

That brought a huge smile from the boy, who nodded and looked at his mother.

“Can I eat, now?” he asked.

Marga rolled her eyes and shooed him away with a, “Yes, but don’t get anything on your clothes.”

Quindy was feeling the fabric of Emriana’s dress and said, “Can I wear this when I turn sixteen?”

Emriana gave a mocking groan and grabbed her niece in a second hug.

“Sweetheart,” the older girl said, “You’ll have your own dress that’s twice as pretty as this one.”

When Quindy grinned, Emriana tussled her hair and stood up.

“All right,” Hetta commanded, “let her through. She has guests to greet.”

The family parted to allow Emriana and Vambran to pass through them and meet everyone else.

The birthday girl beamed as she strolled among her well-wishers, smiling and thanking them with a word or a nod. She didn’t feel at all like herself at the moment, but like she was hiding in someone else’s body, a member of the royalty with everyone in attendance at her beck and call. She took a deep breath, getting her proverbial feet back under her and firmly on the ground.

It’s just a party, she told herself. No one made you queen.

There were guests in attendance from numerous other merchant Houses. Many folk she knew, at least by sight and reputation, if not personally. There was Ariskrit Darowdryn, the matriarch of House Darowdryn, one of the oldest and wealthiest merchant clans in all of Chondath. Ariskrit was probably nearly as old as Grandmother Hetta, and Emriana had seen them together on more than one occasion at parties, visiting like old friends. Ariskrit’s nephew, Tharlgarl, was at her side, a huge bear of a man with great white mustaches that hung down below his chin. Everyone called him “Steelfists,” and the nickname fit, for he was wearing the most pompous suit of full plate mail Emriana had ever seen, fully stylized with gold highlights. It must have weighed as much as Emriana herself did, the girl thought, and she could only imagine how stifling it would be inside the suit in the warm and sticky clime.

Both of them smiled and took her hand, offering her congratulations, as though turning sixteen was some sort of accomplishment that she had worked for, rather than simply a passing of years.

A little farther on, Emriana shook hands with several members of the Elphaendim household, including the patriarch of the merchant family, Thalammose, who stood quietly with his grandniece, Cauvra. Cauvra was only a couple of years younger than Emriana herself. Cauvra looked positively bored, but as Emriana caught her eye, the other girl smiled and waved. The girls had played with one another on the handful of occasions when the two Houses gathered together for some event or another, though in more recent days, the word in the gossip circles was that Cauvra was a budding young wizardess and her great-uncle Thalammose, an accomplished arcanist himself, would no longer let her far from his side. “The Old Elf,” as many referred to him derisively behind his back, apparently feared to let her out into the world, where her potential talents could easily be enslaved or misused.

Brastynbold Elphaendim was also there, though he was about as far from his uncle in temperament as possible. Whereas Thalammose was a quiet, timid lover of books, “Oldhelm,” as people knew Brastynbold, was a boisterous fellow with a huge love of wine and a fair brawler in his own right. Few people in Arrabar had not heard the story of the time he’d hurled a greatsword across an entire courtyard—after downing nearly a small keg of fiery wine by himself, so the story claimed—squarely striking a thief in the back as he attempted to escape by climbing over an estate wall. Looking at the immensely tall, barrel-chested man, Emriana no longer doubted the veracity of the story, especially after he took her hand in his own with a riotous laugh and brought it to his lips for a kiss. He nearly took her arm out of her socket,

but she turned the grimace into a smile and politely curtsied, then moved on.

Some other guests, Emriana did not know. She smiled at them just as sweetly and thanked them for attending just as sincerely. In addition to the necessity to show her genteel upbringing and avoid embarrassing Uncle Dregaul in the eyes of anyone he might have business dealings with, Emriana was genuinely grateful for the attention she was receiving that evening. Over the course of the years, the Matrells had been invited to a good number of coming-of-age birthday parties themselves, even though in the greater scheme of things, their House was not high in the rankings of the politically powerful or prestigious clans. The girl knew that political success was primarily due to her grandmother’s shrewd business dealings and connections with greater Houses. That same acumen was respected in social circles, and most of the people there that night were honoring Emriana because Hetta had always dealt fairly with them. Most of them were.

Denrick Pharaboldi was standing near the end of the crowd as Emriana and Vambran approached. He had dressed in lavish style, with breeches and boots of similar fashion to Vambran’s, though his were maroon in color. Instead of a billowy shirt such as her brother wore, though, Denrick wore a greatvest that hung down nearly to his knees. The vest was open, and the girl could see several crisscrossing chains of gold coins adorning his bare chest. When he saw her approaching, the young man went into an elaborate and superfluous bow, with his forehead nearly touching his bent knee and his arms spread wide.

Emriana suppressed a groan and curtsied slightly in response. Vambran squeezed her hand subtly, where no one else would notice, but the message from her brother seemed clear: I’m here with you, so calm down and act the part. Emriana widened her smile as Denrick looked her up and down appraisingly.

“You are a sight,” the young man said, and the way in which he gazed at her figure, coupled with his words, made her feel vaguely like a piece of livestock at market.

Emriana curtsied again and said, “Thank you, Denrick. You are looking well tonight, too.”

Denrick’s eyebrows arched slightly in surprise at her choice of words, but before any more could be made of it, Vambran said, “I have the privilege of the first dance, Em,” loudly enough so that several people could hear. “Come on, before your line of suitors grows too long.” To Denrick, Vambran said over his shoulder, “Sorry, good sir, but you’ll have to indulge me.”

Denrick smiled, somewhat sickly, Emriana noted, but nodded and waved them toward the patio where the dancing was taking place, as though it was of course the absolute correct sequence of events, and he wouldn’t have dreamed of intervening.

When they were together on the dance floor, turning and stepping to the notes of a new tune, Emriana gave Vambran a relieved look.

“Thank you,” she whispered as they moved in time, weaving in and out of the other couples in a sequence. “I just wasn’t ready to face him, yet.”

“It’s all right,” her brother replied, “I could tell you were still working up your courage. But he’s already coming over here, so get ready.”

Emriana nodded and took a deep breath as she and Vambran finished the complex steps and moved to the ends of their respective lines.

Soon enough, Denrick stepped in and whispered something to Vambran. Emriana saw her brother nod, and he moved aside to let the Pharaboldi heir take his place. With one last, piercing glance at her, Vambran strolled off, falling in with a crowd of other folks close to his age, all of them wanting to hear about his latest exploits with the Sapphire Crescent.

Denrick was an excellent dancer, Emriana had to admit, but her mind wasn’t really on the steps, and more than once, she got fouled up during the moves. Finally, Denrick pulled her out of the line and off to one side.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking very concerned.

The girl tried to smooth her expression to one of complete innocence and said, “I’m fine. This is all just a little overwhelming, that’s all.”

Denrick nodded sagely, giving her a look that said, “I know exactly what you’re going through.” His eyes brightened.

“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested.

Emriana had to swallow the lump that rose suddenly in her throat. Unsure of her own voice, she simply nodded. Then, steeling herself to trust in the plan and in her brother, she took the older boy’s hand and led him away from the main party, through the garden and along one of the meandering paths between stands of trees, bushes, and vines. The couple walked for a little while, Denrick apparently happy to let his counterpart lead the way and probably thinking that she was taking him to one of her favorite secluded spots in a far corner of the garden. For her, part, Emriana tried to make it seem as though she’ was simply strolling with a companion, though she wanted more than anything just to drag Denrick to the location she and Vambran had agreed upon before the party had begun.

After a few moments, Emriana turned down another path that led back in the general direction of the house. Denrick hesitated, tugging on the girl’s hand.

“Wait,” he said. “Where are we going, now? I thought we were going to come out here and be alone,” he added, smiling and flashing his eyes at the girl in the semidarkness of the moonlit night.

“There’s a great view of part of the city over here,” Emriana lied, struggling to control her panic. He knows we’re on to him! her mind screamed. He’s figured it out!

“Oh,” Denrick replied, easing up. “As long as we can enjoy the view by ourselves,” he added, his voice husky.

Emriana didn’t answer as she resumed her trek through the greenery, winding her way up the sloping hill to the estate. When they broke free of the garden path and began to cross the lawn, she could hear the sounds of the party on another side of the house. She longed to be back there, among the colorful lanterns and the smiling people. She had felt safe there, admired and honored. Where she was, there was only Denrick, and despite her private mental admonitions to be strong, she feared him.

Shaking off the feeling of dread that was washing over her, Emriana led the older boy to a set of steps that climbed to a higher part of the house, a wide patio that surrounded a cistern built into the structure for catching and storing rain water. The pool was filled at the moment with cool, clean water almost to its brim. There was a single doorway leading inside, but the path was dark there, for it led into a part of the house that was little used at the moment. They were alone.

Denrick nodded in satisfaction and strolled casually around the perimeter of the cistern, staring at its surface, which was undulating gently in the warm night breeze that blew in from the harbor to the west, carrying with it the smell of the ocean and the scents of the blossoms from the garden below. Emriana stood and watched him, wondering what he thought was about to happen. She wondered if he even had an inkling.

“So, where’s the city?” Denrick asked. “I thought you said you had a good view of it from here.”

“I—” Emriana began, stammering. She hadn’t thought he’d care one way or another, once she got him there and showed him that they were ostensibly alone. “I meant that—this isn’t the right spot. It’s a different place where you can—”

“You were fibbing to me, weren’t you?” Denrick said, coming around the corner of the cistern toward the girl.

She blanched—though he couldn’t see the blood drain from her face in the near-darkness—and barely stopped herself from fleeing back to the party right then and there. He was calling her bluff. He knew what was going on.

“You don’t come up here to see the city. You just wanted to have me all to yourself,” the older boy said, smiling wolfishly at her. “It’s all right; you can admit that you want to be with me here. It’s just the two of us, now, no one around to pretend that you’re still all prim and proper.”

Emriana took a step back, confused, but nonetheless wary of the advancing figure.

“What?”

“I said, you don’t have to pretend that you’re still the innocent little girl,” Denrick replied. “I know how you look at me, and I feel the same way.” He took another step , closer. “Up here, where no one else is around, you can let down your guard, be the woman I know you are. You’ve turned sixteen, now. You look all grown up to me.”

Another step.

“Denrick,” Emriana began, backing up another step, until suddenly, she was against the railing and had nowhere else to retreat to. “I’m not… I mean, it’s a little too fast to…”

She couldn’t get the words out. She kept seeing Jithelle Skolotti’s face, kept imagining that that must have been how Denrick had tried to woo her, too. What had he said that would have made the woman get into his bed?

“Em,” Denrick said, taking another step closer, close enough to reach out to her, and he started to. “Quit pretending you don’t want me to do it,” he said, taking her by the waist and drawing close to her. “I promise you, I’ll make you feel so good. Trust me.”

Suddenly, Emriana couldn’t maintain the pretense anymore. She shoved Denrick backward from herself, hard. Then she darted to the side, out of the corner in which he had apparently been trying to trap her.

“Is that what you told Jithelle before you had her killed? To trust you?” she spat as she maneuvered herself around to the opposite side of the cistern pool from the older boy.

“Jithelle? What?” Denrick said, shaking his head and trying to guess which way to circle the pool to reach Emriana.

Every time he stepped in one direction or the other, she would counter it, keeping the pool between them.

“Stop this, Em,” he demanded, taking a firm couple of strides to his left.

“No,” the girl replied, moving in concert with the older boy. “I’m not letting you near me. I know about Jithelle, Denrick. I know about all of it.”