Chapter Seven: The Meteor-Shower

Dinner was held later than usual that night, due to the meteor shower. While it was to last for nearly a week, scholars insisted that the first night was the best for stargazing, and the prime viewing would be from midnight until two o'clock in the morning. A later dinner also implied more formal attire; although Vivenne was not dressed as luxuriously as she had been the night of the ball, she was wearing a new dress designed specifically for the first formal event after her seventeenth birthday. The bodice was low-cut, and the shimmering white silk was intended to cling to her figure more than any other dress she had worn in the past. Her sisters had insisted on curling her hair again ("The long curly tendrils are so fetching," Solanne had said, "and we want your knight to admit his love for you."), and she wore it in a very loose upsweep, held in place with silver ribbons. She was instantly rewarded upon walking to the dining table: Sir Wyldon's eyes lit up and he smiled approvingly at her. Lord Nikol, seated beside her again, appraised her openly.

Throughout dinner Vivenne kept her eyes away from Wyldon's, still nervous about his reaction to her confession. Instead she spoke with Duke Gareth, situated as ever on her left side, and followed the conversation at her father's end of the table. The meal was long and – for Vivenne – quite boring, but afterward everyone drifted toward the terrace and gardens. Closer to midnight they would make their way to the slopes of the eastern garden, where the best stargazing was possible.

When she sat on a garden bench, Lord Nikol came to her side yet again, offering her a glass of wine. "I apologize for my temper this afternoon," he said, sitting next to her. "It's something I have struggled with my whole life, I'm afraid."

She took the glass but did not drink. "I, too, have struggled with my anger in the past." She risked a glance at Sir Wyldon, but he was deep in conversation with another Tortallan knight. She did not want to speak to Lord Nikol, and silently prayed that Wyldon would rescue her as he had previously with the prince. "How long will we have you here in Drell Valley, my lord? Have you been asked to take part in the conference yet?"

He gave her his most charming smile. "I'm taking advantage of your father's hospitality, aren't I?"

"That's not at all what I meant to imply," Vivenne lied.

"I have personal business to discuss with your father," he said reluctantly. "The peace conferences take precedence, of course, so I haven't had much of a chance to make my requests." He looked down at her with an eager expression.

She took a large gulp of wine. She could not misunderstand his meaning – this man had every intention of making an offer of marriage. She did not know what kind of response to make; wishing him well in his conversation with her father would just encourage him.

"Do you mind, Lord Nikol, if I steal my sister away?" It was Solanne who was saving her, Vivenne discovered. Her older sister's apologetic smile seemed sincere. It would be impossible to refuse her. "Our sister is planning her wedding, and every hour brings about a new crisis – we need Vivenne to offer an opinion."

Vivenne smiled meekly and followed her sister to a small pavilion at the far end of the garden. Margarethe was indeed waiting there with Elin, as expected, but there was no opinion needed from Vivenne.

"He was giving you his sleepy-eyed romantic look," Elin said. "I told Solanne to find some excuse to fetch you."

"Thank you," Vivenne replied, sitting down on the decorative bench between her siblings. "I was at a loss for words because he as good as said he intends to speak to Father about marriage. Why couldn't he have set his eye on Solanne?"

"Perhaps because I was clear to him that I would sooner run away to the Goddess's convent in the capital than marry him," she replied, her voice dry.

"Did you really?" Margarethe asked, giggling. "When was this?"

"Two years ago, when you were busy meeting Gavrel at court. Lord Nikol had just inherited his lands and was looking to take a wife. The advantage to being considered cold and practical is that you can be straightforward with a man you don't care for."

"So my downfall will be that I'm polite?" Vivenne asked incredulously.

"Just tell Father you're not interested in Maderan," Elin suggested. "It's certainly better than doing nothing."

"Or have Sir Wyldon speak to him tomorrow evening," Margarethe said, excited. "Cavall isn't as desirable a connection as Maderan, but he would have to consider it if Sir Wyldon speaks up first. Father has to know of his intentions before he can decide either way, after all."

Elin looked at Vivenne, one eyebrow raised. "So you have fallen in love with one of the Tortallans."

"We don't need to speak of that," Vivenne said sharply. "And we probably shouldn't hide away, either. I'm sure someone is wondering where we all are."

Solanne sighed. "I suppose I'll head out now, just to throw Mother off-guard. She'll be disappointed that you're no longer with Nikol."

"And I have to find Gavrel," Margarethe said, standing. "You should keep away from the party as much as possible, Vivi, so Nikol won't bother you. They'll be extinguishing all the garden lamps within the hour, for the meteor shower. Your mother might be on the lookout for you, but it will be hard to see in the darkness. If we speak to Sir Wyldon, we'll let him know to find you."

The two girls left and Elin looked at Vivenne, a wry smile on his young face. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

She sighed. "The fewer people who know, the better."

"He's a better choice than Lord Nikol, in any case," Elin said bitterly.

"He is a cruel man." She squeezed her brother's fingers gently.

For a moment neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. "If Margarethe thinks Sir Wyldon should speak to father, that means he's indicated that he wants to marry you," Elin said at last.

"Not in so many words," she replied. "But I believe he does."

"So you would move to Tortall to be with him?"

She nodded. "He wants to breed horses, Elin. I could help him."

"I would miss having your help here," he admitted. "But I guess I couldn't complain if you were married to a man you love and were doing what you've always wanted to do."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I would miss you, too, but I think we should wait and see what happens before we let ourselves grow melancholy."

"True," he admitted. He rose to his feet, pulling Vivenne with him. "Let's walk," he suggested. They paced together through the low-lit gardens. Elin captured several fireflies in his cupped palms before speaking again. "There are more options than you are thinking of. You have to take your life in your own hands, rather than letting other people decide it for you." He looked up at the sky. "Some people wish on stars, you know. I think wishing is futile. You have to make things happen."

She gazed into the stars above, thinking about his words. She had never considered herself the kind of girl who defied traditions. Could she go against the ideas she'd had all her life, and marry the man of her choice?

***

Vivenne was able to avoid Lord Nikol for the remainder of the evening; she meandered through the gardens, speaking with knights and diplomats. She was disappointed that Wyldon was not among those knights who approached her.

The hanging lanterns were extinguished and the guests were urged to make their way to the eastern gardens, where there were fewer trees to block the view of the sky. Vivenne hung back; she didn't want to spend her time amusing knights and lords when she had such butterflies in her stomach. Why had Wyldon not spoken to her yet?

Her eyes adjusted to the starlight in due time, and she could make out the silhouette of a man who had not followed the rest of the party. She knew it was Wyldon by the way he carried himself.

"Are you sure you won't be missed?" she asked.

"I worry that you will." They moved toward each other in the darkness. When he was close enough, she reached out to him and pulled herself into his embrace.

Rather than kissing her, as they had greeted each other every time they were alone in the past week, he simply held her tight against his chest, saying nothing.

"I was hoping you would want to spend some of this evening with me," Vivenne admitted.

"You wouldn't look at me during dinner."

She blushed, feeling grateful for the low light. "I was afraid."

"Because of what you said today?" he asked, running the back of his hand along her cheek. "You didn't give yourself the chance to see how pleased I truly was."

Relief overwhelmed her. "Merciful Mother, that's good to know," she cried, twining her arms around his neck.

"It is," he murmured before kissing her sweetly. "I love you, Vivenne. I want to marry you."

"I would like that," she whispered, suddenly shy.

He tilted her chin up so their gazes met. "I'm glad," he said thickly. Then he kissed her, and it was like being kissed for the first time.

Some time later he sat on a nearby bench, and she perched upon his knee, smiling down at him. "The first time I saw you – when the delegation arrived – I was intrigued. I thought you handsome and loved how you cared for your stallion. When I spoke with you that evening, I realized that I wanted to know you better. I've never felt this way about anyone, Wyldon." She kissed him, loving the feel of his hands resting on her lower back and thigh, his mouth against her own.

She did not know how long they sat together, kissing and touching one another in such a manner. They whispered promises to one another, and shared delectable secrets of the things they would prefer to be doing with one another, but remained level-headed enough to refrain from acting on most of their desires. She loved the way his voice became hoarse with yearning, the way his mouth felt against the skin at the base of her throat.

Things were becoming heated and Vivenne worried that her virtue wasn't safe in her own hands. She tilted her back, a sound escaping her throat as Wyldon's fingers tugged at her décolletage, attempting to give his lips more access. A shooting star flashed across the sky.

"Oh, look!" she cried, half disappointed when he lifted his head. But reason had to win the night, and the star shower was as likely a distraction as they were going to get. They stopped to look up into the night sky. Although Vivenne had watched meteor showers many times in her life, she still marveled to see the flurry of white streaks upon the star-studded blackness above. She leaned against Wyldon's shoulder, watching more meteors fall.

"My sisters tell me the negotiations are near completion," she said softly.

"Very close," he replied. "We want to send the soldiers home before summer's end."

"And that means you will be gone, as well."

"I won't leave until I can take you home with me," he said, squeezing her hand in his.

***

The next morning was less pleasant. Immediately after breakfast she was treated to a lecture from her mother about her distant behavior the evening before. And Lady Eiralys had brought up Lord Nikol's name several times within her tirade, no less.

"How long is he to stay here?" Vivenne asked the moment her mother paused long enough for her to get a word in.

"As long as your father wishes him to stay."

"Isn't it difficult, with all the other guests?" Lord Nikol was the only one who had remained who was not a part of the conference.

"Nonsense," her mother snapped. "He's been a friend of your father's for nearly ten years. He's always welcome in our house."

"I don't like him," Vivenne said softly.

Lady Eiralys softened. "You need to get to know him better."

"You've sat me next to him at dinner for the last week!" Vivenne snapped. "You and Father have encouraged me to spend every waking moment entertaining him – never mind the rest of our guests! – so I actually have had the chance to get to know him better!"

"Speaking to someone over dinner is not the same as truly getting to know who he is. I didn't know your father well until we were married."

"So would you have me marry the man so that I might determine then that I don't like him?"

"I would have you remember your place and not speak like this!" her mother cried, exasperated. "Your sisters were never so troublesome."

Vivenne sighed, resigned. "What do you want from me, Mother?"

"I want you to be a good hostess. Converse more with Lord Nikol. He has been your father's friend for years – you will discover desirable qualities in him yet."

Vivenne escaped to the music room for an hour's worth of practice. She half expected Lord Nikol to come in, the way he had been hovering over her for the last week, but the only interruption she had was Idranna, who wanted to play duets. Another forty minutes were passed with music and giggles until they headed off to a fitting for Margarethe's wedding.

But when Vivenne got to the ladies' drawing room, she found her sisters speaking in low voices to each other while Lady Fanette argued with the seamstress.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, wincing at the raised voices.

"They can't agree on fabrics," Margarethe shrugged. "Or anything, really."

"But we were taking to opportunity to discuss your… situation," Solanne whispered. She glanced at Idranna meaningfully. Such things were probably better discussed without their youngest sister present. "Can you help Idranna into her gown?" she asked Margarethe pointedly.

As soon as they were alone Vivenne leaned in close. "What's going on?"

"It's Lord Nikol," her sister said. "I heard him with Mother, and I'm pretty sure they were discussing you. She told him that she would make sure Father had time to meet with him tomorrow, if not sooner."

"Did he say it was about a marriage contract?"

"Not outright," Solanne answered with a frown. "But I'm sure that's what he is going to address."

"What do I do?" She sank to the sofa.

"I don't know, Vivi."