Chapter Five: Coming of Age, part two

In the salon, her mother removed her shoes. "Sleep, my dear," she whispered, kissing Vivenne's forehead and leaving the room. Gavrel and Margarethe followed her, and the door to the room was closed behind them.

Vivenne sat up after a few minutes. The room was fairly dark – one candelabra was lit, and the moon outside barely illuminated the rest of the room – but there was enough light to view her reflection in one of the large mirrors. She was disheveled, but hoped he'd find it charming.

She had been waiting twenty minutes when she heard light steps on the stairs, and within moments Sir Wyldon was pushing the door open. He halted, gazing at her. "Either you are a marvelous player or you really were affected by the heat and the dancing."

She laughed. "It certainly does feel cooler up here."

He crossed the room in three long strides and she was in his arms again, kissing him hungrily.

"How did you get away?" she asked against his lips.

He pulled back, caressing her cheek with a calloused hand. "I've never cared much for parties of any sort, and half the knights who came here with me know that I'm beyond smitten with you after our scene with Prince Jonathan last night. It wasn't difficult to make them believe I had no interest in being there once you were gone; it's the truth."

She ran her fingers along the hard line of his jaw. "You said you wanted to speak with me, Wyldon?"

"I wanted to apologize in person for my rudeness this afternoon. I'm – unaccustomed to Tusaine ways, and I couldn't help but think of this ball tonight as being some sort of auction, with your future on the line."

"I'm sorry our customs are so odious to you," she said stiffly, pulling away.

He frowned, taking her hand in his and leading her to the sofa. "I'm trying to explain myself."

"Explanations are excuses," she replied, her voice hard.

"I know I was wrong," he insisted. "But I have to ask – do Tusaine women ever marry for love? Free of a marriage contract?"

She looked at him and saw an earnestness in his face that she'd never seen before. "Love marriages aren't unheard of," she answered slowly, feeling self-conscious. "My sister is madly in love with her betrothed – but it was still negotiated through our father. My father's wives were all marriages of love. He was fortunate to be from a wealthy family of decent standing, so he didn't have to worry about dowries or bloodlines."

"Though he married the sister of the king," Wyldon said dryly.

"Half-sister," Vivenne corrected. "My grandmother was a second wife, and therefore did not have the title of Queen Consort. So while Uncle Ain was a prince, and later made king, my mother was not in the immediate line of succession."

"And what is your standing?" he asked.

"I'm from a good bloodline and an even better fortune," she replied, her voice flat. "Which means that there will be a number of men who could be interested in me – though it's not certain. Solanne is my full sister, and I have not heard of any desirable offers for her hand."

"Could it be said that you are free to marry beneath you, then, since you have a substantial dowry and social standing of your own?"

She laughed. "Yes. That is where love-marriages are most advantageous. Gavrel is of an old family, but has little wealth to speak of. Margarethe pleaded with my father for days before he would consider it."

"And would you plead?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But I'm afraid he will not consider it."

"Here's the thing, Vivenne," he said, his voice soft. "I could easily fall in love with you, and I would hate to leave my heart in Tusaine. If there's no chance of us being together, I would rather walk away now before it grieves me more than I can bear."

This was not the idle flattery of the men at court who had playfully confessed love for her. His expression was open and sincere, and his words shook her.

"I – I want there to be a chance," she said. "I know so little of you, but every time I learn something new I'm shocked that I could like you even more." She ran her fingers from his temple, along his jaw, to the small cleft in his square chin. "And each time I see you, I have to refrain from touching you. The first time you took my arm I was dazed."

It was an invitation for him to kiss her again, and he accepted it enthusiastically. She wrapped her arms around him, loving the feel of his hard body beneath her fingertips as his lips caressed hers. His mouth slid down her neck, kissing her softly as he moved his hands to her hips.

This time she really did feel faint. "Tell me about Cavall," she whispered hoarsely, gently pushing him away.

"Cavall," he repeated, his breath ragged and his eyes tinged with lust.

"Yes," she answered. "I want to know everything I possibly can about you."

***

In the morning, Vivenne woke with a stiff neck and a very spoilt ball gown. She was lying on the sofa where she had spent half the night speaking with Wyldon. He had stayed with her until the moon no longer shone through the windows and the candles were burnt down to a nubs, then he had excused himself with a goodnight kiss and slipped off to his own rooms. She felt a warmth spread to her toes when she remembered the topics – personal and impersonal – and the caresses they had shared.

She stretched and retrieved her shoes, and marveled how even the sight of her dainty dancing slippers could make her think of him. He had teased her for her miniscule feet, and had even tickled them. Two days before she might not have thought him able to laugh and play the lover, but she had learned so much about him in one evening. They shared stories of their childhood, talked about their dreams and ambitions. "I could easily fall in love with you," he had said to her. The words made her grin like a fool.

When she went up to her bedroom, Margarethe was waiting for her.

"And how was your rendezvous?" her sister asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Secret," Vivenne answered, sticking her tongue out.

Margarethe closed the bedroom door. "Oh, little sister, you don't get that luxury with me. This whole charade could be in the open, if I choose to say something."

Vivenne sighed and began to tug on the laces at the back of her gown. "It was fine," she said. "Help me out of this gown."

Her sister came to her aide, tutting. "It couldn't have been that fine if you're as tightly laced now as you were before the ball."

"I would never!" Vivenne shrieked, astonished at her sister's casual tone. "Do you mean to tell me that you and Gavrel-"

"Of course we have," she replied with a huff. "We were engaged and he was heading off to war."

"But what if he had been killed, and left you with child?"

"There are charms to avoid that sort of thing, you know. You can take the dress off now."

Vivenne slipped the over-robe off, laying it carefully on her bed. "I knew there were charms, but I didn't realize they were so easy to obtain." Heat rose to her face.

"Would you make love to him, if you had one?" Margarethe asked, her grey eyes searching.

"I – I don't know."

"Then there would be no harm in having one."

"Aren't you supposed to be telling me to wait until I'm engaged, at least? A husband surely will know if he is not the first person I was with."

"Nonsense." Margarethe waived a hand casually. "There's no absolute way of telling if a woman isn't a virgin. Men think they know everything, but they don't."

"I've heard that women bleed the first time," Vivenne said hesitantly.

"Some do. I didn't. I asked a midwife about it, and she says that some women do the work themselves – riding horses astride like you and I used to do probably did the trick."

Vivenne flopped onto the bed, arms stretched out over her head. "I can't believe you're encouraging me to seduce a man!"

Margarethe sat down beside her. "Not so much encourage you as prepare you for the option. Mother discussed all this with me before I had my first court appearance – she said it was better to know what my choices are and be prepared for them, because sometimes in the heat of the moment you don't have time to think about things."

Vivenne couldn't imagine prim and proper Lady Fanette saying any such thing, but something in her sister's face – perhaps the lack of a silly grin – made her believe it.

"Were there heated moments?" Margarethe asked, smiling wickedly.

Vivenne blushed. "We spent our time talking," she insisted.

"So I covered for you and kept your mother from checking in on you so you could talk?"

"There might have been non-verbal conversation," Vivenne admitted shyly.

Margarethe clapped her hands in delight. "Is he a wonderful kisser? He is rather handsome, with those high cheekbones. I thought him far too serious until I danced with him last night."

"He can be solemn at times," Vivenne agreed, "if he feels very important about something. But there's a light-hearted side of him as well – he's quick to laugh, and he can be so tender and sweet."

"And his kisses?"

"Amazing," she said with a giggle. "I know I have barely had the time to get to know him, but I could see myself spending my life with him."

***

"Are the men back to the peace conferences?" Vivenne asked once she had finished washing up. She coiled her long braid and pinned it at the nape of her neck. Her sisters were in her room, playing cards as they lounged on her bed.

"Some of them are," Solanne answered, discarding half of her hand. "Baron Chal is eager to get the treaty completed – his fear is that the army will be still be on the river when harvest-time approaches."

"We have only a few weeks," Vivenne said, frowning. It would take at least a week for some of the soldiers to reach their homes.

Margarethe looked up at Vivenne, her expression concerned. "Have the Tortallans made too many undesirable demands?"

Solanne sniffed. "Surprisingly no. It seems that the baron was working closely with a few members of the delegation – including the prince – and they were very evenhanded with their expectations. But they want us to decrease the size of the standing army."

"It's reasonable," Vivenne answered. "And I'm sure there would be provisions allowing us to increase the size in dire situations."

"That's what the baron has been stressing. Father says that he was having private meetings with members of the Tortallan delegation that King Ain wasn't aware of, in hopes that friendly conversation and reason would better work in a small groups."

"I think I encountered one of those conversations, actually," Vivenne said, recalling the day she'd come across Baron Chal and Wyldon on the riding path. "I'm glad it seems to be working well."

"The only concern," Solanne continued, "is whether the Tortallan king will accept any kind of treaty we design."

"What do we know of the king?" Margarethe asked with a sigh. "Is he benevolent? Is he vengeful?"

"I was told that he's a peace-loving man," Vivenne replied. "They call him the Peacemaker, in fact."

"One of the knights told you this?" Solanne asked.

"Yes. I was told that King Roald doesn't want to end up with another war, and he knows that having impossible demands will lead only to Tusaine nobles bristling and wanting revenge."

"There is an ounce of logic in that," Margarethe pointed out. "Perhaps, Solanne, you should remember that our nation started this war."

"I'm tired of such boring talks," Vivenne said, stretching. "Would either of you be interested in a ride?"

"I'm meeting Gavrel and mother to discuss wedding plans," Margarethe answered. "And Solanne said she'd help me."

"Perhaps Elin will go with you, if he's not involved in political debates," Solanne suggested.

Vivenne left her sisters in her bedroom and sought out her brother. He wasn't in the library or the kitchens, so the next likely place was the stables. As she approached, the sound of Lord Nikol's voice made her pause before entering.

"He's a beautiful creature, my lord." Vivenne recognized Elin's voice and peeked through the doorway. She spotted him in one of the stalls, brush in hand as he happily groomed the horse Lord Nikol had ridden to Drell Valley.

"I purchase only the best mounts in the realm," Nikol answered loftily. He opened the door to the stall and stepped inside, bridle in hand. As he reached for the horse's head, the animal shifted suddenly.

"Curse it, you clumsy boy!" Nikol growled savagely. He limped out of the stall in a rush.

Elin darted out, too smart to stay in a stall with an agitated stallion. He looked like he was about to speak when Nikol lashed out again. "He stepped on me! You and your kin claim to be so good with these horses, and yet you cannot prevent an animal from doing harm to its own master?"

"It was foolish for you to come into a crowded stall in the first place!"

Nikol moved suddenly, his hands shoving against Elin's narrow shoulders. Her brother stumbled into the stall door, barely keeping upright.

Vivenne decided to intervene. Afraid to embarrass her brother, he thought it would be best to pretend she hadn't witness it. "Good afternoon, my lord, Elin."

Nikol's whole demeanor changed the instant he heard her voice. He turned to her and bowed elegantly. "Lady Vivenne, how nice it is to see you today."

"Haven't you been taking part in the conference?" Vivenne asked.

"No, not at all," he replied with a laugh. "Some men are made for diplomacy and others for war."

Vivenne and Elin exchanged a glance. "I would hope," she replied, "that a well-rounded noble would be able to do both."

Nikol shrugged. "Then consider me woefully under-developed." He hung the bridle with the rest of the tack. "Were you looking for someone out here?"

"I wanted Elin," she replied. "We have a new stallion and I was trying to decide which mares are best suited to him."

Nikol raised his eyebrows. "That's rather indelicate for a female, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," she replied. "But Elin and I assist our father in the breeding of horses."

"To what end?" His expression was perplexed. "Do you hope to continue this after marriage?"

Vivenne shrugged. "Of course. I couldn't be parted from my beloved horses."

"And when do you find time to learn dances and do lady-like embroidery?"

Elin rolled his eyes, unbeknownst to Lord Nikol. Vivenne stifled a giggle.

"I don't like to be idle, my lord."

"You fascinate me," he said, smiling charmingly down at her. "Will you spend time with me after dinner, Lady Vivenne?"

It was a request to court her, she realized. "I-if my mother does not request that I play music tonight, I will gladly sit and talk with you." She made a plan, at that moment, to offer music for the evening.