Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Future to Discuss

Satrine

I was in a new day dress, and so was Maxine.

I was curled into a corner of the settee with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits (in other words cookies, delicious ones), reading a book.

The book I was reading was about the war between Lunwyn and Middleland that reunited both countries to Lunwyn.

It was a book I sought at a local bookstore (needless to say, to catch up on things, Mom and I had been doing a lot of reading) because Ansley had told me, in his role in the king’s service, Loren had spent some time in former Middleland (now again Lunwyn). He’d been routing out conspirators who would not only see the restoration of Middleland, but also attempt to regain the territory they conquered years before from Hawkvale.

Maxine was sitting in front of the window at her easel, the plethora of paints Mom bought her scattered around, painting a picture of the pretty park that was across the street from the house.

My sister, by the way, was a really good painter. It looked impressionistic, what she did. I was no expert, but I’d seen things in museums which weren’t half as pretty.

In front of me, scattered on the table, waiting for Mom’s return, were a bevy of huge sheets of thick-stock paper on which were drawn a variety of flower arrangements we were to look through and settle on for my wedding.

I was ignoring them because I was engaged with what a dick King Baldur of Middleland was and wondering how on earth he could have any followers at all, much less ones who wished to restore him to the throne after he was deposed.

It was two weeks after Mom gave the staff huge-ass raises and Dad went down for a variety of this-world felonies.

News on that front, he hadn’t been offered bail.

Even so, we had not, as yet (and I was concerned about what this might mean), been cut off from Dad’s funds.

That said, it didn’t matter anymore.

Mom told me later, when we were alone, that the withdrawal she made, “Ansley assures me is enough for us to buy our own townhome, staff it, and for me to live the life befitting the lady I am, doing this until I die. This as well as take care of Maxine until she goes. Though, he also assured me I shouldn’t bother myself with that worry, as you and Loren would be around to do it.”

In other words, we were set to carry on in this world for, apparently, ever, which was a load off my mind.

Because not only did witches not put out shingles, we’d discovered, after the whole Minerva-she-god-plague-on-the-land situation, practicing witchcraft wasn’t verboten, but people were twitchy about it.

I mean, Idina nearly went into vapors when I casually tried to discuss how to find a witch.

I couldn’t click my slipper heels together and ask to go home.

So, although Mom and I hadn’t officially discussed it, it looked like we were there for the long haul.

Honestly?

I didn’t really mind.

We’d had a couple of sit downs with her doctor to understand what Maxine needed and had hired a nurse who was a groovy chick, but we didn’t much need her because Maxine was settled and content. And Mom and I made sure one of us was around at all times so she had stability, and although Maxie and I weren’t giggling together, she’d definitely grown used to me (as demonstrated with how we were now).

Then there was the fact Mom was getting off on being Lady Corliss.

Also, the staff were in raptures at our “family” and they whistled while they worked (I am not kidding, though some hummed and others sang).

The curtains had been thrown open (literally and figuratively, Dad-not-Dad liked it dark) on the house. A ton of knickknacks and bric-a-brac (no matter how expensive, it was ostentatious and oppressive) had been cleared away. Mom had purchased some warm throws (autumn was around the corner) and bright toss pillows (Mom was doing a lot of shopping, then again, she’d never been loaded, neither had I, so there you go). She’d also moved around some furniture and had other pieces carted off to be reupholstered or auctioned because she didn’t want them anymore. She’d even had two rooms repainted in lighter, brighter colors.

The place had totally been changed from dark, stifling evil den where the villain lurked to bright haven where the fairy princesses lived.

It rocked.

For my part, I hadn’t seen Loren since we had dinner together (all of us, not just him and me alone), the night after it all went down at the constabulary.

We’d had a mini-makeout session prior to him leaving for the evening, and then he informed me he had “business to attend” and he’d be back in “no later than a fortnight.”

Now, I was in a quandary.

Because I was thinking we were stuck there.

I was also thinking Mom was hunky dory with that because being a countess and rich as shit far from sucked, but also she adored Maxine.

As an aside, we’d managed to dodge the deluge of former friends and acquaintances sending letters or calling at the door in order to check out the Countess Come Alive, because she had the excellent excuse of sharing she was “finding her feet back home” and would “reenter society” during her beloved daughter, Satrine’s wedding to the Marquess of Remington.

To do this, she had a new secretary, a widowed woman named Palma who worked part time while her adorable toddler daughter toddled around the study, and she wrote letters explaining this to everyone, and declining dozens upon dozens of invitations.

For now.

Yes.

As ever, we were taking each challenge as it came.

Maxine was, according to the doctors, blossoming under the care of her family.

We were set, money-wise.

I dug Loren a whole lot (though, I’d like to have the opportunity to get to know him better).

And due to his absence, the wedding had been put off for two months, so there was more time to do it up right, but also for me to find a way out, which didn’t seem to be forthcoming.

But in the end, if we stayed, and I got hitched to my hot guy, our marriage would be based on a total lie.

He didn’t even call me by my real name.

Obviously, I realized my mind had wandered from my book as I felt Maxine wander from the window.

She sat beside me, not close (we were getting there, but I figured the fact we looked alike freaked her).

She shuffled through the pictures, pulled one out and showed it to me.

Her pretty eyes (and our eyes were the same, but hers were still prettier) came to mine and she said quietly, “I think this one, Sattie.”

Sattie.

She’d never called me that.

Yes, we were getting there.

I smiled at her and didn’t make any sudden movements, just looked down at the picture.

Brides of this world didn’t carry bouquets, by the by. They walked down the aisle with their intended, a garland of leaves and flowers wound from his elbow, over both hands, and up her elbow, connecting them.

It was pretty danged rad.

The one Maxie liked would not have been my choice, although it was lovely. It looked made of eucalyptus leaves, cream and pink sweetheart roses with some tiny pompom green things stuck in to give it fullness.

“I love it,” I whispered.

Her lips curved.

“I love the picture you’re painting more,” I told her.

Her gaze drifted to the easel then back to me, and bashfully, she offered, “When I’m done, do you want it?”

“It would be my most prized possession in this world.”

I said that, and I meant it.

Her eye warmed, her cheeks pinked, and seeing both was both a gift of the fates and a curse to hate Edgar Dawes, Seventh Count of Derryman even more.

Rushing footsteps came down the hall.

We both looked there and saw Carling sway to a halt right before we heard the front door swing open and Mom call out, “Look what the cat dragged in!”

She appeared, looking like the winner from the world’s most flamboyant beauty pageant, carrying four humongous, individually-wrapped-in-paper bunches of spiky stems of different colored irises.

“Darling Carling,” she greeted.

Carling blushed.

Mom grinned.

“Can you take these?” She handed off the flowers. “Please put them in water. I’ll be down to stem and arrange them a bit later.”

And there you had it.

Totes getting off on this Lady Corliss thing.

She then dramatically swept off her giganto hat, nearly hitting…

Loren.

“Oh my gods!” I cried, tossing my book aside.

I hopped off the couch, ran across the space, and threw myself at him.

I pulled his head down to mine and gave him all I had.

His arms closed around me, tight, he growled into my mouth, and obviously with all that yumminess, it instantly got heated.

I vaguely heard my mom tutting and muttering, “Kids.”

I also heard a man clear his throat.

Loren tore his mouth away.

I pouted and panted.

He let me go but grabbed my hand and started dragging me down the hall.

“We’ll be back,” he said.

“Don’t mind me,” Maitland replied. “I’ll be fine as my life just became all about studying this extraordinary painting of the park.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Maitland wink at me.

And then Loren pulled me into the study.

He whipped me around.

I slammed into his body.

He slammed the door.

We went at it again.

My gods, I barely knew him.

But I missed him.

I was pressed back to the desk, and he was pressed to me when his mouth left mine and went to my ear.

“Fuck,” he growled.

“Why’d you stop?” I bitched.

“Because I’m not having you first in a carriage, and I’m not having you first on a davenport in a study.”

I grabbed his head and pulled it back to me.

We made out again.

He ended it…again.

“I feel it safe to confess I’m enamored of your greeting, dear heart, but we must talk.”

“Okay,” I replied, pulled his mouth to mine and kissed him again.

He groaned and pressed deeper into me.

And harder, if you get what I’m saying.

Yum!

He lifted his head, muttering, “Darling.”

“Maxie picked our wedding flowers.”

He pulled his head away further in a manner that made me surface from his consuming deliciousness.

“Maxie?” he queried.

“Yes. Pink and cream sweetheart ro—”

“Satrine, it’s your wedding. Not hers.”

“I—”

He shook his head. “I’m not being an ass. I’ve no doubt you wish to involve your sister. And we shall. But it’s the only wedding you’ll have so you should have what you wish.”

“Oh my gods,” I griped. “Stop being amazing when I’m mad at you for leaving me for two weeks and for stopping kissing me.”

He grinned, dipped in, nipped my bottom lip, that was so hot, I experienced a mini-orgasm, then he pulled away.

“You’re pulling away again,” I complained.

“We have things to talk about.”

“Is the world ending?”

He grinned again. “Not that I know.”

I tried to draw him down to me, mumbling, “Then they can wait.”

I cried out as I was lifted and my ass was planted on the edge of Dad-not-Dad’s desk, but not for good reasons.

Loren left me there and moved to stand behind a chair.

I narrowed my eyes at his new position.

“I can’t even,” I stated.

“And you won’t, until you learn to be good.”

How could he be hot when he was being a wet blanket?

“Warning, Marquess of Gorgeousness, I’m very rarely good.”

His expression changed, I was pretty sure I experienced a not-so-mini-orgasm, and then his expression gentled.

“We have a future to discuss, dearest.”

He didn’t know the half of it, and the thing that killed me was, he might not ever know it.

Because I was very probably stuck there, and I was totally down with marrying this awesome guy I barely knew.

But I could never, not ever, tell him anything about the real me.

Not only because he probably wouldn’t believe me, but because I’d curse me and Mom if I did it.

“Well, I suppose I’m now listening,” I grumbled.

“The business I had to attend to was that King Noctorno summoned me.”

“No sh…fooling?”

“Sh-fooling?” he asked.

“I was going to curse,” I admitted.

“You can be you with me, Satrine.”

Yeah.

Right.

I could do that…

Satrine.

“Can we talk about a summons from a king and not my foul mouth?”

He nodded. “This is why I couldn’t say what I was doing. When Tor calls, sometimes the matters he needs to discuss are confidential.”

“Right,” I whispered.

Badass, I thought.

“This time, it was about a couple of things, one of which was your father.”

I felt my eyes widen. “Dad?”

Another nod from Loren. “Due to the nature, audaciousness and extent of his crimes, the magistrate sent a bird.”

Update: they didn’t have phones, or telegrams, they had birds. Like carrier pigeons, but instead they were ravens and they pretty much never failed in delivering their message, unless they were shot down during wartime and such.

Another update: I’d learned that in a book. I’d also learned it when the modiste, Madame Toussaint, asked Mom, “Would you like me to send a bird to Benies? You need their silk. It’s from Firenze. It’s sublime. It’ll take perhaps six weeks to get here, that is, after the bird arrives with our order, so we’ll say ten weeks, but it will be very worth it.”

Further update: We sent a bird for the silk.

Last update (for now): The reason Ansley gave me that look when I talked about the birds singing to me and mice being my friends was because animals talked to you in this world. Birds. Cats. Mice. (I told you! This place was Disney in real life!) It happened to Mom and me with a stray cat at first. We were walking down the street with Maxie. We flipped out. This flipped Maxine out. Carling was escorting us to a patisserie. He flipped out when we all flipped out. It was a huge thing.

In the end, we had to pretend we were playing a game, and thank gods they bought it.

Wait, one more update: Mom adopted that cat, mostly because the cat asked to go home with us. His name was Mr. Popplewell (according to Mr. Popplewell). He was ginger with some white. He’d gained at least five pounds since we’d had him (and he was not svelte to start with) due to Mom stuffing him with chicken and fish. He slept with her. Doted on Maxine. And cuddled with me. Because, you guessed it, Maxine and I stuffed him with chicken and fish too.

“The magistrate sent a bird?” I prompted.

“Tor returned a bird and froze your father’s access to his assets. You, your mother, any representatives you decide, can access what you wish. Your father can make no decisions about his estate until, perhaps, after his trial.”

“Holy cow,” I breathed.

Well, that explained why Dad-not-Dad hadn’t taken any action.

Loren smiled. “Yes. It’s unprecedented. But I can say, by the time I arrived to meet him, Tor was still decidedly displeased.”

“I’d guess so,” I remarked. “But what did you mean by ‘perhaps’ until after his trial?”

“Tor is traveling here to sit and hear his defense personally.”

The king was coming to sit in judgment on Dad-not-Dad?

“Holy cow times a thousand. Really?” I asked.

More smiling and nodding from Loren.

“Will I meet him?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have no choice. He and Cora will be expecting us for dinner after they arrive in Newton.”

This just kept getting better!

“I get to meet the queen too?”

“Indeed.”

This was awesome!

“Do you think he’ll keep Father’s access to his assets frozen while he’s in jail?”

“The impression I get is that Tor is frustrated with his nobles behaving like they have the run of the country and can do anything they wish at any time to anyone, without any consequences. His father was a good man, a fine king, but he was a traditionalist. He tended to let the peers of his realm act as they always had, with veritable impunity. Tor is a far more modern sort of king.”

Wow.

How cool.

Loren went on, “And he’s felt he’s done what he can to make his statement moderately, but there are those who aren’t catching on, for instance, your father. So he’s looking to set an example.”

I could not for the life of me stop my smile.

Loren returned it.

“So what does that mean?” I asked.

“I’ve no idea, darling. But unless Tor’s mood improves significantly before your father’s trial, or Derryman finds some adequate defense, I’m afraid things aren’t looking good for him.”

“Good,” I whispered.

“Indeed,” he replied.

Except…

“Hang on, do you guys behead people or anything?” I asked.

“Not anymore,” he answered.

“I think that’s good.”

He chuckled.

“Okay, that was almost worth you stopping kissing me.”

His frame locked, weirdly, and his eyes bored into mine.

Then his lips stated, “You are extraordinary.”

Aww.

“What a lovely thing to say,” I replied.

“You mistake me, Lady Satrine Dawes soon-to-be Copeland. I have known many women, traveled near and far, and you are extraordinary.”

Holy fuck.

My heart leapt, my eyes remained locked to his, and my situation became even more complicated.

Because I was falling for this guy.

Fast.

This was because this guy was amazing.

Incredibly.

“Stop being awesome,” I warned, my nose stinging, my eyes getting blurry.

“I missed you,” he said softly.

“You’re being awesome,” I warned.

He gave me a gentle smile.

I drew in a delicate breath.

“We have more to discuss, my darling,” he shared.

“All right,” I said hesitantly, because he was messing me up, in good ways, which was bad.

“Tor is aware of our betrothal and wedding plans. One of the reasons I sent word to Father to delay the wedding was that Tor wanted the Derryman business out of the way in time for all of us to get to Dalwin Castle. He and Cora will be attending the wedding.”

“Yowza,” I replied.

“He’s also given me a choice, and I need to discuss it with you, for it affects you as well.”

Intriguing.

“That being?” I asked.

“He’s already offered me a seat on his council. He is not simply my king, I regard him as a friend, and he’s made clear he feels the same for me.”

“You are rocking my world, your grace.”

He shook his head, mouth twitching, and carried on.

“I suspect he needs advisors around him he can trust. He does his business in Bellebryn, which would not be a difficult place to live. It’s on the western coast, and it’s beautiful there.”

It seemed like it was beautiful everywhere, so I believed him.

“All right.”

“As an alternate choice, he’s also offered me an ambassadorship to anywhere of my choosing. Fleuridia, Lunwyn, even Korwahk or Airen or Wodell.”

Dad-not-Dad had a globe in his office. Mom and I had studied it acutely.

So I knew where all of these places were (Lunwyn north, Fleuridia south, Korwahkway south, on another continent, and Airen and Wodell were on the continent of Triton due west across the Green Sea).

“They’re both honors, am I right?” I inquired.

“Indeed.” He nodded. “Grand ones.”

“What do you want to do?” I queried.

“I have not been stuck in a secluded cottage in the Fleuridian countryside for twenty years. So rather, I’d prefer to know what you want to do.”

Well…

Hell.

I, too, had not been stuck in a secluded cottage in the Fleuridian countryside.

In fact, just two months ago, Mom, Keith, my friend Holly and I had rented a boat and sped and tubed and sunned and swam while spending a happy day on Lake Pleasant.

“It’ll be your work,” I punted.

“It’ll be your life,” he rejoined.

“Our life,” I corrected.

And that was when it happened.

It started with Loren saying this:

“Honestly, Satrine, I don’t care what I bloody do. None of that has any real meaning. Politics have been played millennia before us and will be played for millennia after, without the people seeing any real change. So it doesn’t matter. We could start in Wodell and make our way home. Hell, we could go to The Mystics and around the globe. Whatever you wish. But he’ll want an answer when he makes Newton.”

“At the joyous occasion of your return,” I started cautiously, “I hesitate to get into anything heavy, honey. But that’s a rather pessimistic viewpoint and I think maybe we should discuss why you have it.”

“Can you refute it?” he challenged.

“My father’s assets are currently frozen from his access because the new king gives a shit about right and wrong.”

He shut up.

I gave him another example.

“I want to learn to drive that phaeton Father has, and you’re going to teach me because I know in my heart that you know females can drive carriages, even if the men before you felt differently.”

“Satrine—”

“Can we have time together, just you and me, please?”

He glanced around the study, making his point.

“Mom will want to spend time with you now that you’re back. You’re marrying her daughter. We need to get to know each other. And she needs to get to know you. Maxine needs to get used to you. And I don’t know why Maitland is here, but I didn’t even say hello. Now is not the time for me to provide you with ample proof that, in the long run, the world is good.”

“Your father was a narcissist and a degenerate. Your whole life, you suffered for those personality flaws. And you sit before me and tell me the world is good?”

“I had my mom,” I whispered.

“Six years into your life,” he shot back. “And yes, let’s get together, just you and I, and you can share about those years where you were banished, as a baby, and onward, for more than half a decade, from your mother’s breast. You’ve spoken not a word about that time, and I sense I know exactly why you haven’t.”

He’d sense wrong since that would be difficult to discuss, since I wasn’t banished.

Which was probably why I flinched.

He didn’t miss it and bit off, “Precisely.” Then he drew in a very deep breath and stated, far more gently, “That was reprehensible of me, darling. I should never have mentioned it. It is yours to share if you wish, or not, if that is as you wish.”

I evaded by saying, “Can you and I have time, just you and me?”

“Of course, sweeting,” he whispered.

“So you know where my mind is, I just got Maxine back too. I don’t really want to be in The Mystics right now.”

The Mystics, by the by, being due east.

“Of course.”

“Can we start kissing again?”

He gave me a tender look and moved to me.

He cupped my jaw and declined, gallantly.

“I need to spend time with your mother and sister.”

“Right.”

“And Maitland is never good on his own for too long. He easily finds trouble.”

“He’s in my sitting room. There’s no trouble to be found there.”

“He could be painting the walls with Maxine by now.”

I laughed softly.

“Don’t mind me, my dearest,” he said quietly. “I’m travel weary. I made haste in getting back to you. I’ll be myself tomorrow.”

He was totally lying.

Though, the “made haste” part was super sweet.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he replied.

I smiled, and I was so worried, I didn’t quite mean it.

Loren did the same.

But I feared he had a different reason for not meaning his.