A/N: Life, it has been far too long since I was here last!
This one was fun to write, even though it has been so very long in coming. (I always hate it when authors update once a year or so. And here I go doing exactly that.) I wonder if anyone is still reading? If you are, reassure me and review! I made it nice and long just for all of you.
Question for my readers: Would you like to hear from Mel's point of view, or do you want me to stay with Vidanric? Either way, the next chapter is in the works. . . and I promise there will be more fluffy stuff.
Disclaimer: As always, I owe it all to Sherwood Smith. I hope I haven't mangled her creation too much with my dabbling.
I hope everyone had a lovely holiday season. Happy 2007!
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Chapter Two— Questions
"Vidanric. Oh cousin dearest. . ."
A hand shook my shoulder, jolting me out of the calm darkness of sleep. I fought my way through a fog of thoughts, vaguely recognizing the voice as Russav's.
"Danric, wake up!"
I opened my eyes to early dawn light and my cousin's face peering down at me. He rolled his eyes.
I groaned, and pulled the blanket over my head.
Muffled, I heard an exasperated, "Dan-ric. . . !" before the blanket was unceremoniously snatched off of me. The cold air hit my bare skin with a shock, and I curled up into a ball in protest. But I was certainly awake, now.
Just to make sure he knew I wasn't giving up, I opened my eyes again and gave my cousin the best glare I could muster, under the circumstances.
"What is it, Russav?"
He tossed the stolen blanket onto the foot of my bed, conveniently missing my freezing feet by a few inches. He grinned back innocently at my deepened scowl. Then he aimed an accusing finger at me. "You have some explaining to do, dear cousin."
Unfortunately I knew exactly what he meant by that.
Ignoring Russav's extremely pointed look, I sat up with a yawn, my muscles protesting every movement. The previous day had taken more toll than I expected. Though nothing expected seemed to be happening recently, so I shouldn't be surprised.
"Don't ignore me, Danric." Russav crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down, a smile still twitching on his lips. "I could see the way you were looking at your dear little countess yesterday! Something's different between you two. Finally," he added as an afterthought.
"She's not my countess," I protested weakly. Despite myself I felt the heat rising to my face. I suddenly noticed I was avoiding looking my cousin in the eye. Life! I was acting like a moody child.
He rolled his eyes at me again. "Oh stop it. Tell me what happened!" Were all cousins made to torment like Russav?
"Well, I—Can I get some coffee?" Why was I avoiding the question? There wasn't anything that I could keep from Russav for long, so why was it so hard to speak? He wasn't going to let up until I did, I knew.
"No, Danric, you can't. Not until you tell me something." Right on cue.
I swung my legs out of the bed. I looked up at Russav, who looked back unrepentantly. No, I wasn't going to get out of this one.
"I—I told her I had written the anonymous letters." Stuttering! I was stuttering!
". . . And?"
"And I showed her that I was wearing the ring she sent me." No stutters that time. Better.
"Life! Vidanric, you idiot, would you please just—Agh!" He threw up his hands with a dramatic, wordless exclamation.
I felt a bit light-headed. I took a deep breath. "Look, you're not making this any easier." I tried to ignore the warmth behind my ears.
He looked at me open-mouthed for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
I glared at him. It helped steady me a bit. "Russav, please!" He was doubled over, cackling at me.
"Oh—" He wiped his eyes. "It's just—the Marquis with the perfect stone-face court mask just—I think your mask just melted!" He fell to laughing again.
This was such an odd morning. "If you're going to laugh at me the whole time, I won't say anything. . ." I got up and went to the wash basin that was on a stand in the corner of the room.
"Okay—" Chuckle. "Okay. I'll stop." Snicker. "Really, I promise." I raised my eyebrows at him, but said nothing, busying myself splashing my face with water. I was infinitely glad for the coolness of it on my burning cheeks.
My oh-so-hilarious cousin took a breath and sat down on a cushion at the edge of my bed, his eyes still bright with laughter. "Alright. At least tell me how she reacted." When I didn't answer, he added, "You kissed her, didn't you?"
That caught me so off guard that I dropped the towel I was holding into the basin, which made a soft splat, and the spray formed a wet ring on the floor (and my feet) beneath the wash stand.
Of course this only set off the laughter again.
Life, what was wrong with me?
"I knew it!" He crowed at me. By this point I had decided to ignore him—again—and begin to get dressed for the day.
"Well, how did it go? Was Meliara—amiable—toward your advances?" The grin on his face threatened to stretch past his ears.
I finished pulling on a dark tunic, and absently picked up my riding boots as I tried to think of a suitable response to that. "If you mean 'Did she not try to injure or kill me,' then yes."
"Aha! So she kissed you back, too."
He had a superiorly smug expression on his face. I contemplated throwing a boot at him. I resisted the impulse—barely. "Russav, you are far too annoying for your own good."
"I know." He clapped me on the shoulder, smiling. "What would you ever do without me?"
"I might get more sleep, anyway," I grumbled. But we both laughed.
"So—how was it?"
I swung a boot at him, and he ducked it and ran out, laughing.
I realized I had completely forgotten to ask him about Tamara.
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After chasing Russav off, I made my way to the study in the library. My parents had agreed that a public review of the past few days' events should be made in court today, and I needed to prepare. Though the Merindar threat was finally and truly gone, the conflict had been brewing silently over the past months, and its eruption came as a shock to many. The information gathered so carefully for years needed to be shared at last.
I had vowed to myself from the first that I would never govern a kingdom through secrecy and spies, as was Galdran's way. I had been taught the necessity of good sources of information in government, but that did not mean spying on our own people. I had seen all too clearly how it destroyed the structure of the country, isolating people through fear and distrust.
I arrived in the study room to find a tray of steaming coffee waiting for me on the desk. The first sip was glorious warmth to my still sluggish brain, and I thanked the stars for my manservant, who knew me all too well. I took another steadying mouthful, and as the bells for first gold rang out in the distance, I set to work.
Second gold had come and gone, and my stomach was beginning to mutter to me in earnest about food being necessary to life when I heard the soft brush of fabric as the tapestry opened. I looked up into a familiar pair of bright, wide set blue eyes.
The expression those eyes wore, however, was not quite so familiar: my breath caught at their warmth, directed so clearly at me. So often that gaze had been one of fiery anger and dislike when I was the subject it fell upon. Though it was no less beautiful then.
"I knew you would be here. Did you know the entire palace is asking for you?" As she spoke, Mel crossed the room and circled the low writing table to sit on a cushion beside me. I set down the paper I had been reading with no small amount of relief at being thus pleasantly interrupted.
"That is precisely why I will remain here as long as I possibly can," I answered lightly. The moment I reappeared in the palace halls I knew I would be swamped in demands for answers to so many questions.
She grinned. "Mind if I join you in evading the court, Lord Vidanric?"
I gave her a mock half-bow from where I sat. "On this very fine morning, I should be delighted to have your company in such an endeavor, Lady Meliara."
She gave a soft laugh, her eyes dancing. "Well then. I will. What are you working on?"
"What part of the story would you like the privilege of telling the court today?" Her eyebrows went up at the dryness of my tone. I gave her a wry smile and pushed the mountain of letters on the desk toward her. "I've been reading through these. Tell me which you think are the most obvious proof of Flauvic's study of sorcery. I'd rather such proof wasn't needed, but it may be necessary."
She eyed the tower of papers with distaste. "I had a sinking feeling I was going to have to read all these when we found them in the Merindar house yesterday . . . Let me see." She picked up the first letter.
Beautiful Mel. I was distracted by the way she bit her lip as she began to read. Focus, Vidanric!
But how can one possibly focus on anything else when one is in love?
". . . this one about ordering some books?"
I belatedly realized she had been asking me a question. I pulled my thoughts together with an effort.
"Yes. That one did mention a spell and an instance of its use, in an experiment I believe?"
She nodded. "There's another here somewhere addressed to the King in Sles Adran . . ." She shuffled through the pile to extract a particularly ornate letter with a heavy golden wax seal. "Ah. And here's our dear Flauvic's reply."
Mel's lashes fell so very softly as she blinked. I forced my eyes down to the letter as she handed it to me.
Flauvic's vanity had certainly not been held back in the writing of it. There was a border of embossed gold depicting birds twisting and weaving together in flight.
I scanned over the neatly ordered handwriting. "Flauvic could never resist giving a show, could he?"
Mel shook her head in agreement, but she seemed preoccupied. Before I could ask why, she gave a sigh, and leaned back to prop herself on her elbows.
"Don't you wish we didn't have to explain things?" She grimaced. "In front of everyone."
My heart gave a painful leap, and my errant thoughts rushed to a hundred fears and questions; foremost, would Mel be unhappy if she consented to become Queen? But I pushed the worries away and tried to muster as much calm as I could before I spoke.
"I believe it would be better for them all to hear of your part in the story in your own words." I kept my voice even. "But there is hardly a law against it if you do not wish to address the court."
Her brows drew together for a moment—making my heart leap again—but suddenly she rolled her eyes. "Yes there is. The law in my own brain that says I am stupid to be afraid of facing a crowd after all I have done." She gave a self-mocking laugh. "I don't know why I care what people think of me."
It was an effort not to let my inner turmoil show. Stop being foolish, Vidanric!
"I have reason to believe you will be greeted as a hero," I said smoothly.
She sighed again. "That's what I'm afraid of."
I swallowed carefully, and went for lightness. "I am convinced you will dazzle all with your feats of bravery and wit."
She laughed briefly. "Right, and a hundred new ballads will be sung about the countess with the broken foot, who nearly got a lot of people killed."
"Actually, I believe there are already a few ballads about that . . ." She arched an eyebrow at me, and I couldn't help but smile at her.
"I would offer to ban all the writing of ballads containing your name, but I don't think it can be avoided. Russav, for one, would only be encouraged." She laughed more heartily this time, and though I could still see the tension in her face, it was far less.
"Well, we mustn't encourage him, then." She looked down at the papers on the table, and then looked at me. "Do you suppose we should go prepare for court, now?"
"We probably should," I said, thinking of the long session of questioning to come. My reluctance must have shown more than I thought, because the corners of her mouth quirked.
It was at that moment my deprived stomach chose to give a loud rumble. Mel's smile grew even wider.
"Have you been avoiding the kitchen, too?" She said.
I laughed at that. "The better question is, who haven't I avoided today."
"Who haven't you?"
"You," I said softly. I took her hand and kissed it, and the expression on her face made my breath catch in my throat. I thought distractedly that my breath seemed to be doing that often, lately.
I forced myself to let my breath out slowly. Mel had not broken her gaze from mine. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I was even going to say, and then halted when she lifted a hand to my lips.
She looked at me seriously for a moment. "Vidanric," she said, suddenly urgent, "I have to tell you something—"
A tapping outside the tapestry caused both our heads to turn, and Mel dropped her hand.
"Come in," I said.
A messenger stepped quickly though the doorway. "The Prince and Princess are asking for you, sir," He said. "They are in the lesser council chamber adjoining the court."
"Thank you. I will be there in a moment." He gave a short bow, and left.
I looked back at Mel, and she gave me a small smile. "Just think of it as a battle," she said. "With vast numbers of ravening minions for you to begin mowing down as you step into the court. . ."
I laughed, remembering when I had used the same words when Mel had first returned to Athanarel, at Russav's ball. "Hopefully my parents have not been captured by them already." We both stood. "We should go," I said without moving.
"I know." She looked as though she was going to say something else, then shook her head slightly. She picked up the letters we had selected from the pile. "Shall we, then?"