She cringed as she sat down at the table and rested her hands at its carved edge. Eugina had brought lunch earlier: fish and a small bowl of stew. Gandrett had gotten used to fish enough to not gag at every bite, and Eugina seemed to feel safe with reducing the amount of stew, day by day. It helped that Mckenzie kept her company during her meals—even when it was mostly to correct her way of eating, of drinking, of sitting, of using her napkin, of basically everything Gandrett did.
There was a small, shiny box sitting beside the tray full of empty dishes today. Gandrett had noticed it earlier but… after this morning’s events, had been too upset to find herself interested enough to take a look.
Now that her stomach was filled, her anger at the male subsided, and she was curious enough to pick it up.
The lid came off easily, exposing an assortment of chocolates. Gandrett’s stomach tightened with excitement and sadness all at once as she lifted the box to her face and inhaled the smell. The last time she had tasted chocolate was the last Midsummer Solstice before she’d been brought to the priory. Her parents had afforded a piece for each of them for the celebrations in honor of Nyssa, the goddess of love.
“Who is it from?” Mckenzie wanted to know, her emerald eyes peering past the chocolates at the folded piece of parchment that was tucked in-between the box and a rose-petal-sprinkled chocolate.
Gandrett at first didn’t understand, but when she found Mckenzie’s eyes, the mischievousness was enough to understand she thought it was from a man.
“Who would send me chocolate?” she asked casually, suppressing any emotion that would send her down that path of happy memories—bittersweet memories.
“The question is: who wouldn’t?” Mckenzie positively glowed with curiosity. Gandrett’s palms turned sweaty. “Haven’t you noticed how they all look at you?” Gandrett didn’t fail to hear a certain jealousy ring in the young woman’s voice.
She had noticed their gazes when she crossed the hallways in her fighting leathers every morning and returned sweaty and dirty before noon. She had never given it much thought. As for the rare occasions that she left her chambers in something that informed the world she was a woman, the glances were more obvious but nothing that she wasn’t used to. People had stared at her in Everrun for the sole reason that she was their top fighter. The admiration in their eyes was for the level of skill Vala had allowed her to achieve and nothing else.
Here, in this palace, it seemed Vala was not as omnipresent as at the priory. Not every step taken was to serve her, not every breath taken in her honor.
“If you don’t look, I will,” Mckenzie threatened with a giggle.
“No,” Gandrett held up a hand, keeping her from reaching over, then took the note from the box and opened it.
The handwriting was elegant and reminded Gandrett of the spires of the palace. I would have stolen a kiss last night, but I didn’t want to upset Vala.
All air left her lungs as she read the message again. And again.
“Who is it?” Mckenzie pushed and plucked the note from Gandrett’s hands with swift fingers.
And gaped at what she found.
“What did you do to my brother?” Mckenzie asked, beaming.
Gandrett’s cheeks went hot. Brax. “Nothing.”
The look on Mckenzie’s face made clear she didn’t believe it.
“You wicked creature charmed Brax,” she claimed and leaned back in her chair, fair hair bouncing along on her shoulders.
Gandrett wanted to sink into her own chair. Better to have the ground open beneath her feet and swallow her. “All I did was follow your advice, smile, nod, laugh at the bad jokes.” And secretly ogle at his handsome face.
Mckenzie laughed. “Brax never sends chocolate,” she informed Gandrett. “With all his various women, he avoids sending anything at all.”
Gandrett ignored that feeling of horror and excitement that rose with Mckenzie’s depiction of Brax Brenheran. Instead, she thought of that moment Brax had bid her goodnight, one hand behind his back, the other reaching for hers. The warmth of his breath on her skin when he’d indicated a kiss on the back of her hand.
She retrieved the note from Mckenzie and placed it on top of the chocolates before she closed the box and stored it in the small bedside table. She didn’t know how long it would take until she returned to her family, but she knew she would bring them chocolate when she did.
It took several days to be able to look Brax in the eye without blushing. The young man, however, never mentioned their conversation from the walk in the park—nor the chocolates or note, for that matter. In the meantime, most of Gandrett’s days consisted of training with Nehelon and lady-lessons with Mckenzie, who was becoming somewhat of a friend, if she could call anyone in this court such. After all, Lord Tyrem had bought her like a slave for that mission.
“You are not paying attention.” Mckenzie nudged her elbow. “One step forward and one back. Spin and sideward to the left.” She spoke in the rhythm of the music performed by two musicians in the corner of the room. “How can you fight like a goddess but trip over your own feet when you dance?”
Gandrett struggled to follow Mckenzie’s instructions, the woman’s fair hair flying as she spun, too preoccupied with the music filling the room. It touched her heart on a level she had believed she’d left behind at her parents’ farm. The sound of Sives’s folk-music. “Probably because I never learned to dance.” She set one unstable step to the side, then another. “I wasn’t aware they played this type of music at court.”
Mckenzie eyed her through the arch of her raised arms. “It’s the one thing both courts have in common. The music of Sives. The music that dates back before the kingdom was torn apart.”
Gandrett turned slowly, avoiding the yearning to fall into the frenzy of Vala’s dance of life. The dance she had performed in Nehelon’s training grounds. She suppressed a chuckle. He had avoided speaking to her since that day. Just the necessary orders at training, some instructions concerning when and where to meet the next day, his eyes cautious for once as if he didn’t want her to act like that again. Besides the bruises that were almost healed, it had earned her some space from the unpredictable Fae male.
“The houses of Sives don’t forget their history,” Mckenzie explained, oblivious to Gandrett’s train of thoughts. “They don’t forget that these lands once had one strong king who ruled over all of Sives, from Ackwood to Ithrylan, in peace. The music speaks of those times.” She hopped from one foot to the other.
“And each of the houses still believes that one day they will rule over all of Sives,” Brax finished her sentence from the threshold where he had joined them unnoticed.
Gandrett stopped her attempts and watched him saunter to his twin sister, whose hand he took, leading her in a small circle until she faced him. “Let’s show Miss Brayton how it’s done.” He flashed Gandrett a smile over his shoulder, shook a stray strand of hair from his forehead, and led Mckenzie in curved lines and hops through the room.
Gandrett observed, shamed by her lack of skill, and focused on Mckenzie’s feet rather than Brax’s eyes, which he kept on her as he danced as gracefully as he walked. She had spent three weeks at the palace in Ackwood, and as she watched them, she didn’t feel any closer to passing for a lady than the day she’d arrived. Maybe it was that no one told her when she would make her journey to Eedwood or how she would get to meet Armand Denderlain, but she felt afloat in the strangeness of this court-life where people chit-chatted over fish-delicacies and danced just for pleasure. It was a life that she had never known, would never fully understand when all she had learned was that pleasure is something for lords and kings, and she was a servant of the goddess.