The treaty ending the Scanran War was signed two months ago. The months following up to the armistice saw a steady decrease of aggression from the Scanrans, as Maggur was quickly losing support from his own nobles, who were beginning to assassinate each other. Tortallan soldiers and officials alike could only hope that one of them would end it and kill Maggur himself, elusive as he was in the cold, mountainous depths of Scanra. War-weary knights, King's Own and Royal Army soldiers, and Queen's Riders alike were more than relieved finally to be cleaning up and heading home after two grueling years on the Northern and coastal borders. As a result, many of these warriors were given up to three months' reprieve.
Of the knights included Sir Nealan of Queenscove and Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, riding together on the Great Road North one late June afternoon. With them rode five of Kel's sparrow-sentry-companions and the dog Jump. Her manservant, Tobe, usually nitpicky about sticking by his mistress's side, was beginning his first formal horse magic studies with Daine the Wildmage in Corus.
"When do you reckon we'll get to Masbolle?" Neal asked, staring at the sun.
"Pining, Meathead?" Kel quipped with a smirk.
Neal pulled his indignant noble's face, though it was quite half-hearted. "You and Dom both, always neglecting the title which befits my station," he proclaimed, nose in the air.
Keeping her face straight, she replied, "But I don't call you Sir Neal all the time, so wouldn't Sir Meathead be too formal for your lordship?"
This time the face he made was wholehearted. "Your tone borders on insubordination, dear friend."
"Oh, am I the insubordinate one?"
He grimaced. "It's too hot for this kind of talk," he growled.
Kel couldn't help but grin at him. They'd been through so much together, not only growing up, but most importantly, as comrades in arms. Though she'd kept up a pretense of disapproval at his "haring off" to Scanra after her, she was deeply moved by his and the rest of her friends' decision to follow her to what seemed to be the ends of the earth.
Both Kel and Neal were headed to Queenscove for his and Yuki's wedding in July. Yuki had left Fort Steadfast for Queenscove with her future father-in-law, Duke Baird, while the knights reported in person to the king back in Corus. Now Kel and Neal were passing through Masbolle to visit Neal's least-favorite aunt's family.
Suddenly Jump, who trotted ahead of the riders, barked and bolted down the road. Alarmed, the knights traded glances and sped off after the dog, hands on their weapons. However safely these knights were tucked away from the northern border, the unpleasant surprises of war taught them not to ignore their instincts.
On the road up ahead a rider too far to identify rode straight toward them. Jump, between the two parties, was joined by a familiar orange-and-gray marble cat.
"Dom!" Kel cried, and nudged Hoshi faster down the road. Neal followed, only a hoofbeat behind.
Laughing, Domitan of Masbolle reined in his mount, Dancer, before the pair of animals and riders.
"Excited to see me, lady knight? Your birdies fetched me rather eagerly." Indeed Nari and two of Kel's other sparrows flew in after him. "Meathead," Dom remarked, seeming to just notice his cousin.
Neal rolled his eyes and replied exasperatedly, "Good to see you, too, cousin." Dom grinned infuriatingly as Kel, too, rolled her eyes. She remembered that time almost two years ago when their sarcastic banter came to be too much for those around them. It was just before Lord Raoul and Buri's wedding, and Kel and a couple of their other friends made the cousins promise that they could at least act civilized until then. However, like most disciples of Mischief, they could make no promises.
Seeing her eyeroll, Dom winked at her. She fought for the millionth time her battle against blushing at the merest twinkle in his eye, the barest brush of his arm against hers, or—Gods willing—that sly grin and wink. Maybe it's the upcoming wedding, she told herself. Weddings always make people giddy. Kel responded by asking, "When did you get here?"
"A week ago," he replied, fixing her with very warm blue eyes. Then he looked down. "Queen, the road dust isn't suited to your taste. Come up." His orange cat Queen jumped up onto Dancer and nestled against Dom's saddle horn, beginning to wash herself. He chuckled and looked at Kel and Neal. "Come on, then. Mother wants to meet you."
They rode for less than a quarter of a bell before the Masbolle manor came into view. Kel almost gaped. It was old-fashioned in a magnificent way—reminiscent of its old heritage—its towers washed in white and buttresses trimmed in pale blue. It sat in the heart of a small, fertile valley. Before the house was a sprawling village—a town, really. Those who bustled about did so with vitality, dignity, and pride. These were a prosperous people.
The three warriors took a side road that hugged the town. Within, people paused in their tasks to wave and call out to their new lord and his friends. Kel couldn't help but smile as Dom waved and called back. Neal looked taken aback but pleased nonetheless. The people of Masbolle did not fear their nobles but rather respected them. Kel was reminded of the too few Tortallan fiefs of which the same could be said.
All the while Kel managed to study Dom. She told herself that she was not so much admiring the view than looking out for his health. True, she saw the same impossibly and quite unfairly handsome Dom she knew, but something was wrong.
His friendly blue eyes were dark-rimmed, and his mouth seemed less liable to grin. What's this? she wondered. Dom was one of the most easygoing men she knew. Then she remembered. Dom had recently lost his remaining older brother, Nolann, in the war. Indeed, Dom was wearing the black of mourning garb. Poor Dom, losing all those family members—his father and two older brothers—and becoming lord because of it, when he already has the Own, Kel thought, sad for all the harsh new changes in her friend's life.
In the courtyard of the house a man and three women awaited them. All were wearing the black clothes of mourning, but their faces wore expressions otherwise. Two of the women were definitely Dom's family. The other woman and the man were decidedly not, though they looked related to each other. They all stepped forward as the riders approached.
Dismounting, Kel heard the man remark amusedly, "—Dom, I didn't even notice you left until Luce asked me—"
"—never knew a man to run after birds."
It took a moment for Kel to recognize that not-so-subtle sneer. It seemed like so long ago that she'd heard it. And back then, that sneer was directed at Kel, particularly her ineligibility to find a husband. She looked up to find the voice. Sure enough, with Dom's family stood Doanna of Fenrigh. She was glaring as she returned Kel's steady gaze.
Neal was down from his horse, Magewhisper, first and greeted his extended family. Kel only heard Neal's "least favorite aunt"—Kel figured—call him "Nealan" before she was caught up in a warm embrace.
"I've missed you, Kel," Dom whispered in her ear. She clung back, and over his shoulder she watched as a hostler led Hoshi away to the stables. the Dom she knew—and introduced her to his family. His brother-in-law, Madrigol of Fenrigh, whose brother Emmet both Kel and Dom were acquainted with from the Own, raised straight brown brows over onyx eyes and smiled as he shook Kel's hand. Madrigol's wife, Dom's sister Lucetta of Fenrigh—with her brother's friendly blue eyes, her mother's deep brown hair, and beauty even in only a plain black dress—greeted Kel in kind. In hindsight, Dom's mother—whose lined but comely face, gray-streaked chestnut hair, and light, vibrant green eyes that contrasted with her stark clothes—was the most thrilled to meet her.
"Welcome to Masbolle, Lady Knight Keladry!" Lady Darinia said, taking one of Kel's scarred hands in her own smooth ones. "I know you'll love it here. Though I know you're not here to sightsee, precisely..." Kel smiled and thanked the lady. Evidently Lady Darinia accepted her much more readily than did the mothers of her other male friends. "My son has written so much about you in his letters home," Darinia continued, looking at Kel sidelong. "Dom doesn't know—yet—but I'd hoped you'd be interested—"
"Please, Dom, spare me!" a loud voice teased. While Kel and Dom's mother talked, Doanna had drifted over—evidently—to flirt with Dom and even Neal. But Neal had other plans.
"Aunt Darinia, I don't believe I can handle staying here for a whole week if that female Stormwing is," Neal drawled quietly, coming over.
Lady Darinia sighed. "Now, Nealan,"—she smirked as Neal's frown deepened—"you know she's got nowhere else to go without being bored out of her mind at home in Meron. So she tags along with your cousin and cousin-in-law, especially"—she grimaced slightly—"when they visit Masbolle." Then she smiled. "But there. You can't be leaving us already, you haven't visited in over 10 years!" She cuffed Neal lightly on the shoulder.
Neal rubbed the spot, scowling darkly. "Alas, I endure what I must."
The hostlers took charge of the new arrivals' mounts. Peachblossom, Kel's ever-agreeable old warhorse, pulled a tendon in one of the last skirmishes of the war and was presently recovering in Corus. The good ol' fellow, Tobe had said, deserved the break. Kel agreed wholeheartedly.
As the rest of the family promised to meet them later for supper after the knights had settled in, Dom swung open heavy, polished ebony doors to admit the knights to his home.
"Well, my noble knights, welcome to my humble abode," Dom announced, spreading his arms in a dramatic flourish to include their surroundings. The manor's interior was just as lovely as its exterior, except it was startlingly modern: smooth marble floors, high-domed ceilings, elegantly comfortable furniture, and tall, ornate Marenite windows veiled by flyaway white curtains.
Dom politely waved the servants away. He turned to his guests and said, "Mademoiselle Keladry, Sir Meathead, allow me to show you to the bathhouses, or shall it be your rooms first? Perhaps a bite to eat would serve—"
Kel elbowed him. "Stop it. I've heard enough of that on the road." She looked pointedly at Neal, who was too worn to do anything but glare.
Dom chuckled. "Oh, my poor grumpy guests. You have my sympathies. But what shall it be, hmm?"
"Perhaps we could have baths drawn up in our rooms," Neal drawled tiredly. Kel agreed.
"Very good, Sir Meathead, Lady Knight, if you'll follow me?"