But the announcement hadn’t fazed her. “You may call me Lady Portia, or Grandmother. Either one is suitable.”
I bit back my impatience at her lack of care and asked again, “Why am I here?”
“Because if what I’m hearing about you is true, and the seal around you is breaking, then this is the best place for you, don’t you agree?
“Seal? What seal? And I was safe where I was,” I countered back.
“Even your own clan couldn’t save you from the Elite. Now this is the safest place for you. Out of the out of the reach of the Denai.”
“But I’m not safe from you,” I glared at her.
“True,” she cracked a crooked smile. “I’ve been told that the truth hurts. And I hope you’re not afraid of a little sting, because you are to learn that everything you know is a lie. It was not just Tieren that wanted you to come here. I’ve been pressuring him to bring you back here for years.”
“Why would you do that?”
Portia went to the mirror in my room and began to straighten her hair. “You don’t think our Thelonia left the luxury of the castle to go live in the mountains on her own accord did you? She left to find your father, to try and save our kingdom.”
Her words hurt, and I could feel the poison of them seeping into my very thoughts. If I let them, they’d eventually destroy my childhood memories bit by bit. I didn’t have many that included both my mother and father. But I couldn’t let that get in the way. I needed to learn more. “Are you saying that she never loved my father?”
Portia looked dismayed. “That was a poor choice of words, dear.” Her tone softened and she turned to grasp my hands. I wanted to rip them but I waited to hear what she had to say. “I’m sure eventually she fell in love with Boren.”
“Bearen,” I corrected curtly. This time, I did yank my hands away.
“Yes, that’s right. I remember now. But Thelonia was the one to come up with the idea of finding your father and your clan. She had every intention of bringing you back to Sinnendor when you were older. She hoped that whatever curse affected our royal family would lose its strength if you lived in Calandry.”
“Curse? What curse? And why share this with me now?”
“All of the males are mentally unstable and I fear that Sinnendor will soon fall,” she whispered, her eyes searching the hallways for listeners. “After your mother died, our only hope was to manipulate Tieren into bringing you here. It was her desire that you one day come back and rule as Queen of Sinnendor. Even if we had to start a war, and take the throne from her own brother, what better family than the original descendants of King Branncynall himself to retake Sinnendor’s throne.”
“A pawn. I was a pawn before I was even born. A means to an end.” I felt disgusted at Portia and—for once—even a little resentment toward my own mother. But then I remembered her smile and how much she loved me. However selfish or noble her intentions were at the beginning, I couldn’t help but realize they weren’t the same at the end. My mother loved me.
“But it is a glorious end that comes with a throne,” Portia added, interrupting my thoughts.
“I don’t want it. It has been and always will be just a chair. Whether it’s padded or covered in gold. Even if it comes with a country to rule. I’ve no interest in attaining any furniture.”
Portia frowned at my cheekiness. “Now you sound like your mother.”
I couldn’t help but smirk before asking, “Who else knew about this?”
“Neither Tieren nor his sons know of our plan. Only your mother, Gideon, and I did.”
“Is the king so easily influenced?” I asked, confused.
She shook her head, signaling silence and opened my door and walked out. The thickening plot intrigued me now more than ever. I simply couldn’t justify leaving without getting answers about both Tieren and my mother. Clearly, Portia knew how to bait the hook and keep my interest piqued, but whether or not she could catch me in her nets was up me.
I had to stay one step ahead of her.
I lifted the hem of my dress and followed her down the stairs, across the hall, and into the largest dining room I’d ever seen. The long table could easily seat thirty guests. Only five tableware settings were placed near the head of the table, which was filled with gold platters of food—boar, duck, meat pies, fresh bread, soup, and a spread of delicate pastries and desserts.
“Be silent unless spoken to. Watch and learn. Judge for yourself why we needed you here in Sinnendor. You will see why our future depends on you,” she whispered and sashayed to the table quickly.
Tieren sat in the large oak chair at the head of the table. He focused more on his goblet of wine than the plate filled with wonderful cuisine in front of him. Prince Sevril sat stiff in his chair, his arms held out in front of him in fists. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, his eyes were ringed with shadows, and his clothes looked like he had been sleeping in them for days. I identified Tomac because of his bright red hair, a trait obviously passed down from his mother.
Portia motioned for me to take the empty seat next to Prince Sevril, while she moved to sit next to Tomac. I watched carefully as Portia started to serve herself some soup and daintily sipped from her spoon.
Tomac had already had a huge boar leg and was speaking with his mouth full, one leg thrown casually over the arm of his chair. “So, Sev, where have you been disappearing to the last few days? You look like horse manure and you are starting to smell a fresh steaming pile.”
Sevril ignored his younger brother’s taunts and buttered a roll. Actually, I wondered if he even heard Tomac’s insults, because he barely blinked an eye as he ate. He just chewed with small distinct bites and swallowed.
Tieren happened to look up from his goblet of wine and glance over at me, blinking a few times in confusion. His eyes brightened, and a smile lit up his face as if he’d just noticed my appearance.
“Thelonia, you’re here! I was just telling Gideon how I couldn’t believe you won my best pony from me in that hand of cards. I bet you cheated. You cheated, didn’t you?” Tieren’s face was ruddy and his words were slurring.
I looked between Portia and the king for guidance, but she encouraged me to continue the discussion. I faltered a bit, gathering my courage to play the part. “No, you were just always bad at cards.”
Tieren slammed his golden goblet down on the table and everyone turned to stare at him. The red liquid dripped down the side of the gold rim and pooled around the base of the goblet’s stem. Tieren’s eyes scrutinized the dribble before a huge smile arose on his face.
“Right you are. Right you are.” He turned and looked at the tapestry hanging on the far wall and began to have a full on discussion with the stag sewn into the fabric.
My hands shook as I reached toward my cup and tried to fill it with water from the pitcher. After I took a drink, I turned to Portia who nodded in affirmation.
Feeling a little bit braver I decided to press on. “King Tieren,” I spoke his name and waited for him to come around to looking at me again. Finally, his eyes focused on me. “Why do all of the Elite have white hair?”
Tieren’s eyes slid from my face down to the table and then back up. “It’s a mark of honor, of respect to be part of the Elite. They’re not as good as having a bonded SwordBrother, but they are good at protecting us from the Denai.”