Chapter 2:

Updated 10/15/23

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Caileagh tried not to pout.

It had been such a pleasant morning. She’d had the balcony overlooking the exercise yard all to herself as the local girls were all attending some religious thing: a rectangle or a square or a circle. The shape was as irrelevant as the foolish god they worshipped here. What was important was she’d been distracting a third of the most eligible sons of the nobility for several hours. Three had been injured trying to impress her. Another had been knocked unconscious, if he wasn’t dead. Not that he’d be a loss. He wasn’t particularly handsome nor of high enough birth for her to take seriously.

And then…

His name was Glenyth Locke. He was unwed. He was tall, very tall, despite being only nineteen. His shoulders were broad. He had the arms of a blacksmith. His hair was exceptionally pale, even for one of those southern lords. As for his skin, she’d never seen a color like it. Well, not in Freislicht. Its deep burnished coppery tone would have drawn no comment in Dubu.

But here?

Here, it was exotic, tantalizing… and awoke a hunger.

He was beautiful.

As he’d strode onto the practice field, he’d dared all there to engage him. Several had. Not only had he defeated each without effort, he’d looked into her eyes between each opponent.

Directly into her eyes. Taunting her. Letting her know that he knew she was watching. And that she was watching only him.

Damn him. He wasn’t wrong.

Once he’d appeared…

Caileagh wrapped her arms tight around her. Trying to conceal herself from a gaze that stripped away her every trick and enchantment. Trying to prevent her feet from carrying her down the stairs to meet him.

He was already there when she’d reached the ground. “Hello, little flower. Have you come to watch me? Again.’ His smile was so small it mocked her. ‘Of course, you have.’

“Is there somewhere…?”

“Where we could talk? Alone?”

“Yes.” The word slipped out unbidden. She looked up into his perfect face. His presence overwhelmed her.

“I think not.”

She couldn’t breathe.

“At least, not yet,” he continued with languid grace. “You have quite the reputation. And, while pretty, your only virtue – given the current circumstances – is the size of your dowry. Even as the late Earl of Lorness’ stepdaughter, you’ll have senior nobleman’s younger sons and every lesser noble’s sons seeking your hand.”

Caileagh had never been spoken to so bluntly.

“And you, my poor sweet, will almost certainly have no say as to who they marry you off to. As yet,” he looked back at the practice field as if evaluating each young nobleman’s worth, “you don’t even know the rules of the game you’re playing. Things are done differently here compared to the land of your birth. Some far-off place, as I recall.”

“Dubu.”

“Ah, I did recall correctly. I thought I should check before deciding whether to make you mine. Or, perhaps, let one of my kinsmen have you.”

Her lips tightened. Her eyes narrowed. “How dare you?”

He took a step backwards, then laughed. “Thank you for making the decision so easy.”

Then Glenyth turned and walked away.

Caileagh stood, frozen to the spot.

No male was immune to her charms. She’d been taught how to wrap men and boys around her finger since… since… since she could remember.

Not one had ever defied her, had walked away from her.

Ever.

There’d been a few she couldn’t get her claws into, but those were usually already taken by an older girl who knew how to catch and keep a lad. And that had been in Dubu where women knew that their lives depended upon doing whatever was necessary to land the best possible husband.

In this strange land of Freislicht, unmarried women did not… dally… with their beaus. They teased, suggested, and flirted. But not one of them delivered until they were wed. It was one of the oddest and most unfathomable parts of this weird culture her mother had delivered her into.

Playing the part of a ‘well-brought-up’ noblewoman had meant not indulging in her sensual nature. At least, not much. Of the several wealthy would-be beaus she’d been flirting with, giving them a mere glimpse of ankle, calf, or thigh had turned them into simpering toys. Playthings that she could get to do almost anything.

As for the one lad, whose father was a duke, that she’d shown part of her rounded upper curves…

She licked her lips at the memory. It was even better than the occasions when, at the insistence of her guiding spirits and mother, she’d teased Gaelib by brushing up against him. Or adjusting her clothes in front of him. Or tripping and having him land on top of her. He’d been the most delicious boy to practice on.

Well, there had been one who would have been even more fun. Sadly, Jonathan had been sent away to become a Knight of J’shua. So, her tormenting him had been cut short before she could have…

Caileagh stamped her foot. Yes, Jonathan had eluded her, but not due to anything special about him. He’d merely been lucky to elude her before…

As Glenyth is eluding me now.

Striding back to her rooms, she was determined not to be thwarted. One way or another, Glenyth would be hers. Better yet, as eldest son of the of the eldest brother of the current Duke Locke – a man who’d had only daughters – he was second in line for that title.

It would be such a pity of both older men had… accidents. As my birth-father and recently dead step-father did. Yes. It would also deliver what my guiding spirits had promised, control of one of the greatest noble houses in Freislicht.

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Farina slapped Caileagh across the face. She did not care that servants were present. She did not care that those who’d seen would spread rumors. She did not care for anything in this accursed land her spirits had guided her to.

It had all been so perfect.

Safe and legally married, she’d had access to her husband’s vast fortune. The Earl of Lorness was the most powerful, most prominent, and richest noble in the northern half of Freislicht. His political influence was without equal. Even this land’s king listened when her husband spoke. He was unassailable, impregnable, undefeatable.

Thus, as his wife, so was she.

As for those nobles from distant southern lands, they were weeks of travel away from the Royal Court. They were irrelevant. So what if people said the Lockes were richer?

How much richer could they be?

The wealth of Lorness was beyond counting, beyond spending, beyond that of all Dubu combined, then doubled, then doubled again. And again. And again.

And, of course, when her husband succumbed to illness, all that would be hers!

At least, that was what would have happened in a civilized country.

But this was Freislicht and…

Caileagh was cowering before her, begging, pleading. But the girl had not run away. She knew better, knew that the punishments that rained down on her would have been worse.

Farina took a step towards her daughter, raised her hand and…

“Stop!” The single word cut through the room like a sword through flesh.

Turning, Farina scowled at the fool who’d interrupted her, only to find herself face to face with King Edal. She froze.

“I thought,” the words were slow, seething with anger, “that since you are not a native of Freislicht, I should do you the curtesy of explaining our laws to you in person. It was clear from the way you left the conclave being held to determine the fate of Lorness, until its heir comes of age, that you did not understand your situation.”

Farina lowered her hand slowly.

“Rise, girl,” Edal said, his eyes focused on Caileagh. “Come, stand over here. Behind me. It is not our way to strike children, except as the most severe of punishments. And it is never done in front of witnesses. Certainly not before servants and with the doors to private apartments open for anyone to walk through.”

“I—” Farina began, only to be cut off by King Edal’s ice-cold eyes boring into her.

“As king, I had thought that by having the late Earl of Lorness marry you, both would benefit. It would seem my hopes for this union have been dashed. Worse, it is suddenly apparent to me that you are entirely unfit to be a noblewoman of Freislicht.”

“Your Majesty, I…” Again, Farina’s words were cut short. This time by a raised eyebrow.

“It had been my intention to ensure that you, Countess Farina of Lorness, lived out your days in luxury. That you would have servants, money, and be able to travel. I had considered arranging marriages between your husband’s family, the Melazeras, and the Lockes from the south to heal rifts that had occurred between them.

“I had raised this with the Earl before his death and obtained his blessing. Your daughter was to marry one of the eldest unmarried Locke boys. I understand that Caileagh has taken a shine to Glenyth Locke. It would be a fine match.

“Or, it would have been a fine match. The problem is that if you have raised your daughter to accept being punished so, in public, I am required to put that plan on hold.” He turned to face the girl. “I am not saying that it will not go ahead, just that I must be convinced that you can be a good and proper wife for Glenyth, according to local customs.”

Caileagh nodded. It was a tiny, frightened movement.

“As for you,” Edal refocused on Farina, “allow me to set you straight on our laws.

“A person of your gender may not legally become regent.

“A person born in a foreign land cannot become regent.

“A person who is not of good moral character cannot become regent.

“Had you done the slightest investigation, you would have known that you were invited to the conclave not as a participant, but as a witness. Thus, when you interrupted and spoke to my nobles – and to me – as if you were our host, you made it clear that you did not understand what was happening.

“When you stormed out, I took the opportunity to call a much-needed recess.

“However, to arrive here to find that you had struck your daughter in the face, in front of servants, and without the slightest care as to who might witness such barbaric behavior, you force me to act.”

Farina bowed her head. She had done everything her guiding spirits had demanded of her. She had obeyed them. She had sacrificed for them. She had murdered her first husband for them. She had dedicated her daughter to them.

This could not be happening.

As she raised her head to stare at this unbeliever of a king, she registered there were people behind him, including Duke Locke, and several armed guardsmen.

“Not another word, or whatever mercy remains in me due to your daughter being present, shall vanish,” King Edal intoned. “You will go with these guardsmen. You will do so peacefully as if they were the escort due a great lady, not as her jailers. You will do as they say. And when, at a time of my choosing, I summon you before me to answer for your behavior, you will acquit yourself as one of my noblewomen is expected to.

“In the meantime, Duke Locke, while you remain at Farr Castle would you be so kind as to offer the Earl of Lorness’ stepdaughter a safe place to recover and learn to be a credit to our nation?”

“It would be my pleasure,” the southern duke acquiesced, bowing low.

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Caileagh knelt and prayed, as a young noblewoman from Freislicht would do.

It had been days since the scene between her mother and the king. Days in which there had been no word about Farina’s fate, but during which rumors had circulated with ever greater and more fanciful details.

As an amusement, Caileagh had let slip some of her mother’s least foreign habits. The speed with which those tales had transformed had been eye-opening. How much could be done in this foreign land with only a few whispers?

She resolved to find out.

She had also resolved to determine her own future. With the conclave dragging on day after day, it was only a matter of time before someone else decided her fate. Who she would marry. If she would marry. If she would be sidelined. If she would be sent back to Dubu.