“You will not provoke me, Dieyre,” she replied, obviously struggling but succeeding to maintain her composure. “Why do you care to know Demont’s plans? Ask him yourself!”
“I have, but he is midstream in a river, stuck in a tidepool and is getting spun about so quickly he cannot see his course any longer.” He looked at Ellowyn. “If you were wise, you would set your sights on the young king.”
“They are cousins,” Marciana reminded him.
He snorted. “How many of us are not in some way or another? A decree from Avinion can be easily obtained with enough coin. Think on it, Ellowyn. You are heir to the kingdom of Pry-Ree. A princess by birth by right of your father. The young king is titular sovereign of Pry-Ree – named its Protector as an infant. Idumea’s hand, he was born in Pry-Ree too! You would be a fool if you did not consider it. It would expand his borders and your influence. That is why you should not be here, nor Billerbeck, nor any of the many fine Abbeys in this realm. The sons and daughters of kings study at Dochte Abbey in Dahomey. It does not matter what realm you are from. Your mother could not study there, for she was a traitor’s daughter, but her mother – your grandmother – did study there because she was a king’s daughter. And so are you, Ellowyn. That is where Demont will send the young king to study, if Pareigis gets her way. And she always does. He does not deserve to be strapped to Demont’s side, obeying his whims. Let him be a king!”
Marciana’s eyes were veiled. “She is the Queen Dowager, not the king’s mother. She has no say over his destiny.”
Dieyre smirked. “She will get her way. I promise you that. I have said what I came here to say. Just do not linger at Muirwood. Either of you.”
“Why?” Marciana asked, her voice betraying a hint of desperation. Lia swallowed.
“I would tell you, but the Aldermaston’s hunter is standing too near.” He pitched his voice lower, his voice full of intrigue. “Come see me in my room tonight and I will tell you. I will leave the door unlocked for you.”
“You need not bother, for I will not come.”
“You almost sound sure, Ciana.”
“I am sure, Dieyre. Go back to your mistress.”
“There are so many, which do you refer to?” he asked, smiling broadly. Then rising languidly, he looked at Lia. “Would you escort me to the porter door then? It is warmer out in the storm than in here.” He gave a gallant bow to Marciana and Ellowyn and then marched back to the door. Lia rang the bell and Guerney arrived and unlocked it.
The rain fell in heavy sheets. The fountain basin was nearly overflowing, the surface pock-marked as the raindrops shuddered into it.
Guerney started shuffling back to the porter door, but Dieyre siezed Lia’s arm and stopped her.
“A warning for you as well,” he said in a low voice. “Pareigis has brought a kishion as part of her retinue.”
“A what?” Lia asked.
He lowered his head, smirking in disgust. “A kishion. Ask the Aldermaston what one is. Be on your guard. He is on the grounds. I have seen him already. He will be left behind when we leave.”
With that, he caught up with Guerney without giving her a second glance. She stood still, folding her arms, and tried not to shiver.
* * *
The Aldermaston’s kitchen was warm and smelled heavenly of soup and baked bread. The guests had been served and all were drinking cider back in the manor, except for Colvin, Marciana, Edmon, and Ellowyn – who lingered with Lia and Pasqua in the kitchen. The other two girls were serving the guests their meal. Lia took another nibble of cheese, pondering the strange tidings she had learned that day. Marciana was pacing, deep inside her thoughts, glancing occasionally at her brother. Lia rose from the bench and joined her.
“I know what you are thinking,” Lia said in a soft voice. She noticed Colvin at the other table, next to Ellowyn, was observing them.
“I am brooding.” Marciana said with a sigh.
“Let me see if I can arrange the hints. You did not touch your meal. You have not told Colvin about your run-in with his enemy and you keep looking at the door as if you expect Dieyre to arrive any moment.”
Marciana smiled softly. “You are good hunter, Lia. The Aldermaston was wise in choosing you.”
Lia shrugged. “You are wondering if you should see him tonight. To pry into his secrets.”
Marciana stared at the floor, her face darkening. “You do see through me.”
“You are not worried about yourself. You worry about your brother. If you can gain information that will help him, you would do it. But that means putting yourself in danger. You should not go. Colvin would not want that.”