In the Rain – Chapter 3
Disclaimer: See first chapter.
Point of View: Meliara
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"It is a rare event when we both manage to get out of the palace and into the saddle," Shevraeth began with a smile. "And on a beautiful day, no less. Did you enjoy your ride?"
Dozens of replies shot through my mind, but none seemed entirely appropriate – a simple "yes" would be a blatant lie. It was all I could do to blink numbly. Maybe the rays of sunset glinting in my companion's eyes were responsible for melting my thoughts – though I could only accept that my encounter with Flauvic was causing my frozen tongue.
"You look pale, Meliara." The smile slipped off Shevraeth's face, replaced with a sharp brow and worried eyes. "Did something happen?"
I stared for a moment before biting my lip and closing my eyes, cursing myself. I would run into Shevraeth, of all people, who can read my face as easily as a court document! I wanted to forget my peculiar conversation with Flauvic and the creeping, sinking feeling the memory gave me. But I had never lied to Shevraeth before, even when I had hated him.
"Would an offer of help be entirely futile?" he tried again. I opened my eyes to see that he was gathering the reins of both our horses, his own eyes never leaving my face.
"Thank you anyway, but I'm capable of handling my own mount," I mumbled hurriedly, moving to take back my horse's reins and deliver her inside.
"The mare is not what compels my concern," he returned, captivating my eyes again within his own gray pair. I shook my head and looked down to where he held out my mare's reins, offering them to be reclaimed if I so wished. I instantly reached to take them, but both my mind and hand froze when my unaccountably shaky fingers grazed Shevraeth's warm, callused palm. After a moment he closed my fingers around the leather reins and tucked his arm under mine, carefully seeking a sign of my agreement.
I nodded, then attempted a laugh as he guided me into the stables. Shevraeth's face relaxed a little and he quirked an eyebrow.
"Just like at my first ball," I explained, gesturing to our linked arms. "Though the surroundings are somewhat less auspicious." I patted my mare on the nose. "At least the occupants feel less intimidating and, well, dangerous. " I glanced apprehensively at Shevraeth, who just laughed softly.
"I agree – though I doubt every courtier would," he said, directing my gaze to the huge, powerful chargers in the nearby stalls. "Unlike Renna and her horse-mad clan, there are those in Athanarel who view their mounts only as means of transportation – or simply as perplexing beasts. They may ride well, but they never seek to understand a horse's intelligence or grace, much less see them as valuable companions."
I smiled, remembering Shevraeth's connection with the dapple gray he often rode. A picture of his long hair tossing in the wind as we raced to Lumm surfaced in my mind. I promptly squashed it. A moment later a young stablehand hurried forward, apologizing profusely for the delay. Once our horses were munching oats contentedly, Shevraeth turned to me again.
"Where would you like to talk? That is, if you still want to share with me what happened," he added carefully.
"Um, here is fine – I would rather not be overheard," I murmured. "That is, if you still want to listen. I mean, I'll probably end up rambling – I think it's really rather silly for me to worry you about this…"
"You can't possibly think I don't want to listen to you, Meliara. You're worried about something important – and I do value your happiness. Next time you'll simply have to create more convincing arguments if you wish to rid yourself of me," Shevraeth informed me, his mouth quirking. I could think of nothing to say to that, but I found myself smiling just a little anyway.
We walked to the far end of the stable and sank down in a clean, crunchy hay pile. It was much quieter here, with fewer horses and no stablehands nearby. Sighing, I looked at Shevraeth, who was waiting attentively. I noticed that he had the unconscious ability to look alluringly natural wherever he was, even nestled in hay. Hold on - he's the future king and a formidable personage, not a lamb! What am I thinking? I twitched my eyes back to the dried grass, snapping a piece under my nervous fingers.
"I suppose I'll start at the beginning." I cleared my throat, imagining that this must be how every raw storyteller feels in front of an important audience.
"Today I rode into Remalna-city to hear the musicians I wished to hire for Nee's Adoption Ball. They were wonderful – I was able to listen to all the centuries-old songs they'll be playing. I thanked them and then set out in late afternoon to return to Athanarel. My mare knew the way, of course, so I was letting my mind wander a bit as we came through the outer gardens. That was where I ran into Flauvic." I glanced at Shevraeth, who nodded, but didn't interrupt.
"This was the first time I've seen him anywhere besides the Merinder residence. He was sitting under a tree reading a book – a history, I think he said. It was… difficult… to get my head around what he was saying. As soon as I entered the clearing with him, I felt exceedingly strange. Even though I was on horseback, and he was sitting on the ground unarmed, I had the sense that he was holding the all power. I can't understand why I felt so helpless. I hate that feeling," I muttered, drawing my knees close and clamping my arms around them.
"Well," I added, looking up, "I guess you already knew that last part."
"I did perceive something of it during the Rebellion," he replied teasingly. Shifting slightly closer to me, he turned serious again. "So Flauvic didn't do or say anything to make you feel threatened otherwise? Did he say something that implicated treachery to you, or was it just a – for lack of a better word – pleasant conversation?"
"It was just this peculiar feeling I got from him, more than anything else. I can't really explain it," I said, frustrated. "Well, there was one thing that he said that stood out." I fidgeted, not really wanting to go on, and rearranged myself into a cross-legged position, careful not to brush Shevraeth. I could just feel his discerning stare on my reddening face.
"Um, well, after a short while Flauvic cited duties at home and bade me farewell. As he was leaving, he said something to the effect… well, he said something like, 'I can tell you it is not going to rain tonight, but I doubt you would want to keep him waiting.' Then he smiled at me and was gone – though I still felt like a skittering squirrel for a long time afterwards."
I had to look at Shevraeth now to see what he was thinking. For once he wasn't looking at me, but running a hand through his loose hair and staring ahead, his lips compressed. Finally he looked at me, sent me a crooked smile as his eyes traveled over my rosy face.
"I gather we've come to the same conclusions… That Flauvic was referring to me in his paltry nuance, implying knowledge of our interval in the rain that night… insinuating knowledge of a supposed courtship. So. I am responsible for your distressing encounter with Flauvic, then." I was concentrating so hard on not glowing like a Fire Stick that I nearly missed this abrupt claim.
"Responsible? How do you figure? And are you saying that Flauvic's assumption about our, um, relationship, led him to seek me out?"
"Yes. As you said, this was a rare outing for Flauvic, and he surely had a specific reason. If I hadn't invited you for hot chocolate, no one – specifically Flauvic or more likely one of his servants – would have been able to assume any kind of intimate relationship between us. There are things – political, and militant – going on, that you and most of the Court do not have knowledge of. I'm beginning to realize that I may not have all the information I need, either."
I shook my head. "First of all, I was the one who spilled that hot chocolate everywhere. And you can't blame yourself for what Flauvic or anyone else does – I mean, I still don't understand how seeing us out in a rain shower equates with a strange encounter over a month later." Shevraeth just looked at me, but then he seemed to make a decision.
"I am responsible for many things – namely, the safety of Remalna. But just as important to me is the safety of her people," Shevraeth paused, touching my arm lightly, "and this is one of many times when I believe the two will overlap. If I were to share Remalna's impending dangers with you, I know I could trust you, Meliara." I nodded, feeling weighted by the seriousness of this burden.
He smiled. "I'm glad you chose this out of the way spot, then. Political intrigues do take a long time to explain."
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Sometime later my head was buzzing with all of the privileged information Shevraeth had chosen to share with me.
It turned out that the Renselaeus family had known of the plot between the Merinders and Grumareth for some time – the same plot Azmus had so recently discovered and informed me of. I forced myself to reveal my employment of Azmus as a spy and all our significant conversations – Shevraeth had declared his trust for me and I wasn't about to let a detail I failed to mention be the cause of Remalna's regress into tyranny. Shevraeth felt that his troops and information networks had a good handle on the Merinder-Grumareth threat – but Flauvic's motives, especially after my encounter, were another matter.
"He has not been at Court for much longer than yourself," Shevraeth said, "and has been reclusive since his arrival. I don't suppose many in Athanarel know him well. Before your encounter, I hadn't seriously contemplated any involvement from him in a plot for the crown – though I've no doubt he's intelligent enough."
"And persuasive enough," I muttered, then flushed red. Shevraeth's winged eyebrows jumped every so slightly – and the next thing I knew the whole incident was tumbling out of my mouth.
"… And he thought I was there for, well, something else, and he kissed me – " I shuddered, then bit my rambling tongue, my feelings straddling both mortification and my own lunacy. "And I'd rather forget all what happened. And you really didn't need to hear any of that for the good of Remalna." Quick to laugh, quick to act, and much to quick to judge – add 'to speak' to that list, and it's the complete story of my life, I thought, biting back a groan. If there were a 'Speaking-Before-Thinking Contest' I'd win before the rest parted their lips!
"No. But I am glad you felt you could trust me," Shevraeth was saying, smiling down at me. He continued the discussion, tactfully ignoring my vexingly renewed blush.
"In any case, this inept plot by his family and Grumareth does not seem like something Flauvic is likely to be involved in… Though for some time now, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that he is capable of much more than he is letting on." Shevraeth paused and looked at me intently. "Which is partly the reason I haven't continued our salute to friendship thoroughly in public, as I'm not doubtful you've noticed. I am thankful to have this opportunity to apologize and explain the motives behind my restraint."
"I did notice," I heard myself saying. "Though I've been so busy planning for Nee's Adoption Ball that I haven't had much time to ponder such things," I added, hoping it didn't sound false.
"Your encounter with Flauvic has given weight to my earlier apprehensions. My status places those who are discerned as my friends and allies in a hazardous position, as aggressors will seek to endanger them – or tempt them to join their side."
I groaned aloud this time. "First they think I hate you, so they try to use me against you. Then they think you're courting me, and they do the same thing! Someone needs to tell me how that's logical, for goodness' sake!" I squawked. Shevraeth's laugh rumbled like distant thunder beside me.
"You're right, it doesn't make sense at all – but there you have it." He let out a last chuckle. "I suppose that accepting the fallacy of it all will help us respond to our current dilemma. The best idea I have right now is to simply use my family's information network to descry as much knowledge of Flauvic's past as possible. I believe that will help us decipher where his loyalties lie. My men may also be able to contact your spy Azmus and exchange any worthwhile information."
"So time will tell whether my anxiety is on target… or if I've simply developed an allergy to Flauvic's presence," I said, trying for lightness, and smiled when Shevraeth laughed again.
"Until we know, we – along with the riding I've assigned to watch the Merinder residence – will just have to keep our eye on him."
"Sounds good," I agreed. "Sounds like – oh! I hadn't realized it was getting so late." Bells in the distance were chiming the hour.
"Tired?"
"Not with so much news to liven up my mind! I am a bit hungry, though. I guess I missed the dinner Mora was going to send up to my rooms."
"It seems we are in similar situations, then. Perhaps a couple of fresh pears, to tide us over until breakfast?" Shevraeth suggested, rising gracefully to his feet and dusting himself off, then offering me his hand. I took it, smiling easily for once, then began brushing away the considerable hay I'd accumulated.
"A pair of pears?" I joked. "The late hour takes the blame for any bad puns and silliness, mind you," I added, old memories and habits trying to resurface.
"I wouldn't worry," Shevraeth said solemnly, though laughing with his eyes. "You're a picture of austerity." I looked up from brushing a last bit of hay from my riding trousers with my mouth in a surprised 'O' – before grinning widely.
"I could say the same to you," I returned, "as you've managed to get a trifle hay in your hair." I reached up instinctively, and standing on my tiptoes, plucked the scratchy hay from his hair. Of course, I certainly did not take the occasion of proximity to note anything of his physique. And if I did, slightly, it was purely inadvertent. I stepped back, stifling all my unhelpful thoughts – right along with any that might have spared me another embarrassment. "Can't have the future king looking like he's just had a roll in the h – …never mind," I finished, blushing furiously at the implication I had almost made.
Shevraeth's eyes narrowed again in laughter, but he merely offered me his arm. "Shall we get those pears now?" My stomach flip-flopped as we walked out of the stables, though I couldn't imagine why. At least the playful breeze outside was cooling off my flushed cheeks. Shevraeth led the way, lit by scattered stars and glow globes.
"There's an old pear tree just off this path," he explained, guiding me from the cleared trail through a curtain of foliage. "Russav and I used to climb it and 'appropriate' the pears, mostly to exasperate the gardeners. There should be a few early fruits, if I'm not mistaken."
"Oh!" I breathed happily when the tree came into view. "It's lovely." I stood nearly awestruck in the dim light, admiring the tall tree laden with hundreds of ripening pears. Even the scent here was heavenly; earthy and moist and sweet, just how growing things should smell. Shevraeth grinned and released my arm to select the fruits. As he walked around the tree, occasionally reaching up a long arm, a thought occurred to me.
"Shevraeth… when you met me outside the stables, what made you certain that it was not you whom I was upset with? I mean, I have managed to instigate a fair number of, well, misunderstandings between us." He finished picking the desired pears and handed one to me.
"Hmm. I believe I was most greatly encouraged once I saw that no heavy metal objects were launching themselves directly towards me," he said, affecting serious deliberations, his eyes glinting. I opened my mouth, then closed it. Deciding I could play along, I cocked my head to the side musingly.
"No, I've learnt that particular method seldom works. I'm working on new tactics to solve my problems."
"Such as?" he prompted, a smile playing across his lips.
I shrugged. "Well, just talking to you seems to get the job done." I took the opportunity to end this rather unwieldy conversation by biting into my pear; it was juicy and tart and perfectly ripe, and I said so. Shevraeth followed suit and we spent a few silent moments eating companionably, me leaning against the smooth bark of a tree trunk and he easily gripping a branch that extended high above his head.
Presently I tossed my pear core into the underbrush, where it would soon decompose or provide enjoyment for some scavenging animal, and sighed aloud, realizing it moments later.
"Everything seems to remind me of Tlanth," I explained, when Shevraeth, having already finished his own pear, moved closer to see my face. "Trips on horseback, the quiet of the trees, exploring in the – apparent – wilderness… I guess I'm getting homesick, even though I know I'll be back in the mountains in a few weeks."
Still for a fleeting moment, Shevraeth then tenderly, deliberately, enfolded one of my hands in his larger one. I might have started at the intimate gesture – if what he said next hadn't frozen my every nerve.
"If – when – you leave Athanarel, I will no longer have the opportunity to disclose something of great significance to you, something I gained knowledge of several months ago. Something… concerning your late mother."
I sucked in a shallow breath; shock was soon replaced with a distant ache and numbing fear. I couldn't look away from Shevraeth's face, and he slowly continued.
"You were correct – Galdran did order her death – but there was more to the incident. Your mother left Tlanth to pursue her study of magic, to try to help Remalna. But Galdran learned of it, and saw her as a threat… I don't know if learning the reasons can help ease the pain, but they do explain why your father burned your family's library – to destroy any chance of you gaining knowledge of sorcery in the books there, to avoid a reprise of Galdran's brutality."
I nodded, throat tight, and looked away. Tears trickled down my face and I was glad of the dim light, sure that I was not one of those ladies who could cry while looking elegant. Shevraeth silently produced a handkerchief – of course, I never discovered that I was carrying one when it proved necessary – and passed it to me, his other hand still reassuringly closed around mine, his thumb massaging a soothing pattern into my palm.
Taking a few deep breaths, I resolutely dried my eyes, fighting the desire to either curse Galdran aloud with as many crude words as I could summon, bawl feverishly on the ground, or sink helplessly into the strong arms in front of me. Deciding not to examine why that last option seemed so appealing, I shook my head and told myself that none of those choices would really help. I was strong. And I certainly wasn't going to let hate and regret and sadness rule me.
"I'm okay," I finally managed to say, in a somewhat squeaky voice. "Thank you for telling me."
"You amaze me with your resiliency," he murmured, sending me a regarding smile. "And I should be the one thanking you, you know. For not berating me after I've kept this knowledge from you for so long. I simply could not find how to tell you – and telling your brother, and allowing him to relay the facts to you, seemed the epitome of cowardice."
I sniffed loudly, a watery grin spreading across my face as Shevraeth led me from our garden seclusion back to the path, taking a route toward the residence wing. " 'Cowardice?' You make me sound an intimidating figure to approach."
He shook his head forlornly. "Ah, you don't know the half of it. Your stiff expressions, imposing stature… not mention those legendary exploits that have more than diminished the valor of any rivals. Alas, it's enough to make any stalwart, courageous fellow envious."
"Huh. I'd like someone to point out these envious fellows to me, then," I laughed, once again surprised at Shevraeth's pleasing ability to jest. He had a strange expression on his face, but I took no note of it as I prattled on. "Besides, any 'legendary exploits' I made during the Rebellion don't hold weight here in Athanarel. Things like politics, fashion, or choosing the right words seem a thousand times harder to comprehend than simply fighting to save your own skin."
"You consistently underestimate yourself, Meliara. You've made great strides to understand Court ways, and educated yourself in nearly every area of life, save one." Our conversation had carried us into the Residence and to the servant door leading to my rooms, so I stopped, of course, looking curiously at Shevraeth.
" 'Save one?' " I asked, perplexed. Shevraeth's face immediately smoothed into guarded blankness.
"It's not my prerogative to tell you how to manage your affairs," he said. "I apologize."
Drat his determined opaqueness! "If there's something important I should learn about, you shouldn't keep close-mouthed. Why won't you just tell me?"
I saw I wouldn't get the answer I wanted when he quirked a small, provocative smile – but I hadn't expected him to counter with a question of his own. "Why won't you ever use my given name?"
I stared. It was odd, I knew, but I could never see calling him anything except 'Shevraeth,' even while the others used his given name, and nickname, routinely. Did it really matter that much to him?
He appeared to take my dumbfounded silence as some sort of answer, giving his head a shake. "I'm afraid I've kept you out very late. Word will be sent to you if my contacts uncover any pertinent information. I… bid you a restful night. Sleep well." He bowed low over my hand and kissed it, just as he had done over a month ago. But as he released my hand from his, I realized that he had not had to catch it up to bring it to his lips – our hands had already been clasped. Had we really walked the entire way from the garden hand-in-hand?
"Good night." I swept a quick curtsy and fled to my rooms, not daring to wait for more strange occurrences.
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AN: A nice, long chapter, right? I felt like I kinda rambled a bit and jumped from subject to subject too much, but I really liked writing all the dialogue anyhow. Oh yes, I realized after writing this that Shevraeth and Mel would probably both be wearing riding hats and gloves… pretend Shevraeth started a new hatless, gloveless fashion. Yeah. That's it. Also, do they even measure time in months? I doubt it.
A huge thank you to Aeriel Ravenna, legofiance, FelSong, Black Rose25, Squirrel Maiden of Green, Master of Sarcasm (Danric-Lover!), Margery, and Queen's Own, who all took pity and reviewed the extremely short second chapter without being asked. Go you! …This time around, however, I have devised an evil plot to garner reviews! Wahaha! I have Chapter 4 pretty much all written, nice and long, just a couple things to revise. Part is from Danric's POV! I am planning to post it within 10 days – but – if I get 18 reviews (why 18? I like the number 18!) I will post it immediately thereafter! So, if you want it posted sooner, spread the word and review! –Shannon