Seren Ashveil's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The council heard Seren's offer and did not laugh. They asked hard questions, and she answered them. When the meeting broke, the lord who had opened the door walked her out. He was old, gray-bearded, dressed in dark blue with gold at the shoulders. Lord Caelum Windgorge. He had bought her a hearing, and now he named his price. "You want the council's ear," he said, low, so no one else could hear. "I hold it. Keep holding it for you would cost me nothing. Refusing would cost you everything." He touched a brooch at her collar, a frost-shaped blossom of pale crystal. His fingers lingered. "Come to my rooms tonight. We understand each other." Seren kept her chin high. Her stomach turned. She saw the trap clearly. Refuse him and the door she had won swung shut. Accept and she came to the council as his kept woman, not a crown's envoy. Either way her homeland's alliance died. She needed a third path. She thought of the man she had glimpsed in the great hall. The crown prince. Silver hair, blue cape, a circlet of gold. The very prize she had crossed the ice to marry. If Lord Caelum's demand touched a woman promised to the prince, the demand became an insult to the throne. "You mistake me, my lord," Seren said. She raised her voice, just enough. Heads near the dais turned. "I came to Windgorge to wed your crown. I sought Prince Galeborne's hand. Would you have me shame him before his own council?" The name landed like dropped iron. Lords stopped and stared. Lord Caelum's face went white, then red. He had reached for a foreign woman and found himself groping at the prince's intended bride. From the far end of the hall, the prince himself stepped forward. He had heard. He looked at Seren, then at the old lord's hand still near her collar. "Is this true, Lord Caelum?" the prince asked. His voice was young and cold. "You bargain with my future wife?" Lord Caelum bowed fast and deep. "A misunderstanding, Your Highness. Nothing more." He backed away, his threat dead in his throat. He could not press her now without naming his own disgrace. The prince turned to Seren. He studied her dark surcoat, her steady eyes. A small smile crossed his mouth. "My future wife," he said, testing the words. "I have heard no such promise. Yet you say it to my council as if it were done." Seren met his gaze. "I say what I came to make true." The prince laughed, but not the cruel laugh of the great hall. "Then you had better make it true," he said. "Before I decide you are a liar." He walked away. Seren had killed the lord's demand. But she had bound her fate to a claim she had not yet earned. Now the prince was watching, and waiting for her to prove it.