18. Honor

Chapter 18

Honor

M ariel would have rather gouged her own eyes out than made herself “presentable” or attended the feckin’ party. Fetes had never been her thing, but trying to pretend she was fine was just beyond her ability. Because of Erran’s and Yesenia’s duties to little Esmerelda, Mariel would have to watch them pretend they were over each other while everyone else studied her, hoping for a reaction.

In the hours since she’d discovered Erran sneaking around, she’d been plotting an escape from the marriage altogether, a union that was no longer practical or necessary, but there was one rather large problem she hadn’t solved. Erran knew her secret, as did two of his closest friends, and she doubted he’d be as compelled to protect it if she was no longer his property.

Korah and Gwyn were unexpectedly delightful women, and Mariel liked them both, despite her temperament. Korah, the late Khoulter’s sister, was a no-nonsense widow who seemed possessed of little warmth, but had a natural maternal air, something Mariel had noted in her almost-neurotic assiduity over the details of the elaborate gown the women had picked out for her.

Gwyn was just as matter-of-fact, but she fussed at Korah for pushing Mariel to wear something way beyond her comfort.

“This style is in season, Gwyn,” Korah snipped. She tugged the short sleeves of Mariel’s emerald gown down over her shoulders. “Perhaps you’re worried because a shoulder-less gown would cause a woman to freeze to death where you’re from, hm?”

“Or I simply believe a woman should wear what makes her feel lovely, and not succumb to the pressures of others.” Gwyn had her vibrant red hair tied behind her. The one thing Mariel knew about her was she was the daughter of Lord Dereham of the Northerlands.

“It’s fine,” Mariel said, assuring them both with a grin that made her feel so damned foolish. This wasn’t her—the formfitting gown, which revealed too much of her bosom, the painted cheeks and curled hair... The woman in the mirror was a stranger.

A beautiful one, she’d admit. Through some strange magic, they’d transformed her. But it wasn’t real. Wasn’t her.

It will make it easier to put on a brave face if it’s some other woman who has to walk into the banquet and face her humiliation with a smile.

“See?” Korah lifted her brows in reprisal.

Gwyn gripped Mariel’s shoulders and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t let her intimidate you. You can wear whatever you want, however you want.”

“Nay, I like this.” A mask. A facade. A means to an end. “Besides, you’re both wearing off-shoulder gowns.”

Gwyn wore marigold, which made her hair even more fiery, and Korah a deep orange, less bold than matronly. They were both handsome women, for different reasons, and their gowns were suited for their complexions and personalities. Mariel supposed green did the same for her, as her dress was a near-perfect match to her eyes, but she knew nothing about fashion.

“Do you always hold banquets for the birth of a wee one?” Mariel asked.

“Nay,” Korah answered quickly, like she was racing Gwyn to be the one to speak first. “Only our lassies, who have their honorary parents pledged to them at the banquet. The little lads are welcomed with a ceremonial hunt and their first blooding.”

“Ransom had that?”

“Not yet.” Korah flashed a disapproving look at Gwyn. “His mother has deemed him too young for the same tradition his father and grandfather and all before them took part in before they’d reached their sixth month. I ken he’ll be betrothed before she relents.”

“Korah,” Gwyn said, sighing. “It’s true I feel he’s too young. I told Khallum we could do it at one year. That’s my compromise. It’s more than fair.”

“Not everything requires compromise, dear,” Korah muttered and put away the rouge and other oddities they’d used to turn Mariel into a changeling.

“Oh, you mean I could have just said no?” Gwyn sniped back, grinning at Mariel in the mirror. She adjusted some of Mariel’s stray hairs, tucking them into the many pins she’d used to keep her updo in place. “You were beautiful before we dressed you up, Mariel. Beauty comes in many forms.”

Mariel laughed. “You don’t have to say that. I know I’m not much for...” She dabbed her hands on the gown. Her hair. “I like it that way, even if it isn’t terribly exciting.”

“You have a confidence about you that I’ve never had. Confidence is alluring. When you arrived yesterday, I watched every man on our staff look not at Yesenia or me or your mother-in-law, but you. ”

“My stepson among them,” Korah groused. “Watch out for him, Mariel.”

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Gwyn,” Mariel said, narrowing her eyes. Other than the lingering looks from Korah’s stepson, the only scrutiny she remembered was the embarrassment of being the third wheel in her own marriage. “I didn’t feel the least bit confident yesterday.”

“Isnae lying,” Korah said from across the room. “You may not be traditionally beautiful, Mariel, but ye are beautiful just the same. And I ken, gown or no, you’ll be fending off dances all night tonight. Your husband will have his hands full.”

Mariel snorted. “I don’t dance.”

“Aye, but ye will, just the same,” Korah replied. “Now, come. We’re nearly late already.”

When Erran returned to the keep, after failing to find Mariel at the beach, an attendant informed him his wife had returned but was being dressed and readied in their apartments, and men were not welcome. Then Khallum called him in on business, which they addressed while getting fitted for last-minute adjustments to their banquet garments, stealing any potential opportunity he might find to speak with Mariel before they were forced into a sea of people and expectations.

For a private event, there were many people in attendance—the merchant class, Khallum explained, the businessmen and women whose support was critical to the peace and prosperity of Warwicktown. Every one of them, Khallum said, were social climbers.

“You could have invited the other stewards if you were set on a big event,” Erran said. He hadn’t stopped searching for Mariel, but she hadn’t arrived yet, and neither had Gwyn nor Korah, whom she’d been getting ready with.

Destin was across the room, talking with Sessaly and Hestia. It was good to see him at ease, like he belonged there. Keeping him grounded and happy—and sober—was the key to keeping Mariel’s secret.

“Nay, because then these men wouldnae feel like they’re on the top of the pile, would they?” Khallum grinned and toasted two such men as they walked by, beaming from the attention. “Besides, who really wants to be here? Not I.”

“Nor I.” Erran laughed. He spotted Yesenia dancing with Corin. It was an odd sight—the Yesenia he remembered wouldn’t so much have lifted a foot in time with the music—but a good one. It would be better if they danced together all night, so Mariel could see the way of things.

“And there is my lovely wife,” Khallum sang, opening his arms wide as Gwyn, looking fetching in a gold gown, stepped forward to accept his embrace. Korah was right behind, swishing by without a hello as she moved to a circle of women on the other side of the floor.

“Where’s—” Erran choked on the word as Mariel entered, her shoulders pinched and unsure. Her dark hair was curled and pinned around her face, decorated with painted silver petals that sparkled under the candelabras. But it was the dress... How they’d found a gown so similar to her impassioned eyes was a trick of magic, surely. Her pale skin peeked above the low neckline, her breasts arced and perfect.

“Breathe,” Khallum jested, leaning in with a laugh.

Erran’s mouth was completely devoid of moisture. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, but Mariel breezed on by without even looking his way.

“Ouch,” Sessaly said, skittering over with a scandalized expression. “Is there trouble between our little island lovers?”

“Sessaly, mind your business,” Erran snapped. “For once.”

“You are a menace,” Khallum said to her. “I say that as your lord as much as your brother’s friend.”

Sessaly curtsied. “Thank you.”

“Wasnae a compliment, lass. I’m not the steward, who’ll endure your antics. You’ll behave here, or you’ll leave.” Khallum swatted the air, and she backed away in stunned contrition.

“Excuse me,” Erran said, breaking away to follow Mariel, but she was already dancing with her brother.

“She’s catching the eyes of every man here,” his mother said, slipping an arm through his. “Including yours. Why are you not with her?”

Erran didn’t know why he told the truth. She wouldn’t understand, and he was certain to regret it. “I think she’s upset about Yesenia.”

“Because you were so tongue-tied when you saw her yesterday?”

“I wasn’t tongue-tied . I found my words fine, thank you.”

“I was being kind. It was worse.”

“Not because...” He checked to be sure Sessaly wasn’t lurking, fishing for more fodder for her friends. “It wasn’t for the reason you and everyone are thinking.”

“Oh?” Hestia sipped her wine, waving and smiling at people as they passed.

“I’m committed to this marriage, Mother.”

“How clinical that sounds,” she replied. “Though love is rather distracting. Perhaps committed is for the best.”

Erran groaned in exasperation. “Were you not the one who said there was no room for love in a marriage?”

“I said the two are typically exclusive of one another.” She wiggled her gloved fingers at another woman. “Or can be.”

“Do you have anything practical to offer, Mother?”

Hestia’s smile faded when she turned toward him. “And when was the last time any of my lessons landed with you, aye? When you were five?”

“Say what you want to say.” Erran watched, tense, as Mariel moved from Destin’s arms to Khallum’s. “I’m listening.”

Hestia breathed deep. “I will not pretend I know all that’s passed between the two of you. But I saw two very different people return from that island. And now they are, somehow, reverting to who they were before.” She lifted her shoulders in a dainty shrug. “If you say you’re over your dalliance with Yesenia, as your mother, I believe you. But I am not the one who needs convincing.”

“I tried to find her earlier, so we could talk about it. But she?—”

“Is avoiding you? Who could blame her? Her pride is hurt. Her heart... Well, who can say?”

Erran grimaced. “If she won’t speak to me, then how can I make this right?”

“You try harder, son.”

“Again?” Mariel asked when Destin traded places with Khallum. “When I said I didn’t want to dance, I feckin’ meant it.”

Destin grinned and swept them into formation. “I should have said it earlier. You look beautiful tonight.”

“Do I not usually?”

“I’m your brother, not a beau you can trap with words.”

“When have I ever had a beau?”

Destin was quiet for a moment. “For a while, I thought you and Remy... might marry?”

Mariel laughed for lack of a better response. “That would never have happened.”

“Mar, I know you were sweet on him.”

“Aye, but I was sweet on Auggie more.”

“Really?” Destin peeled back in surprise.

“You’re shocked I like women as much as men?”

“Only that I didn’t ken it sooner.” He chuckled to himself. “Makes sense, I suppose. She’s certainly always been in love with you.”

“Has she? How do you know?”

“How do you not know?”

Mariel had always been unconscious of anything not directly connected to the survival of herself and others. One time, they’d all been out to a tavern for drinks and a man had joined them, talking mostly to Mariel all night. When he’d invited her home with him, hours later, she’d been so stunned that even he’d laughed about it. For days, the others had ribbed her about her obliviousness. “I suppose I never had time for distractions like that.”

“Love isn’t a distraction,” Destin said.

“If not, then it’s a weakness, and I refuse to be weak.”

“Is that a confession?”

Mariel grimaced at the corner she’d unwittingly backed herself into. “Point to you.”

“Erran has been staring at you all night. Were you aware?”

“I’m hardly aware of anything more than whether my feet are in the right place, Desi,” she lied. She’d seen him watching. Trying to catch her eyes. Starting her way, only to retreat. It wasn’t her job to coddle him or his reputation though.

“Why not dance with him? Huh? Seems harmless enough. There’s only so much he can say when you’re surrounded by dozens of others.”

“I just—” She cut herself off when she noticed the redheaded man staring her way. He raised his glass. She frowned. “Do you remember Korah’s stepson?” Destin spun, and she yanked him back. “Could you be more subtle?”

“Aye, what about him?” Destin’s eyes narrowed over her shoulder.

“I ken he’s quite rude.”

“Rude? How?”

“ He hasn’t stopped staring at me since we arrived here yesterday.”

Destin sputtered a laugh. “You really are oblivious.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s coming over here to take my place.” Destin peeled back with a cheeky grin. “I should refresh my juice anyway.”

“Destin, don’t you dare—” Mariel plastered a polite smile when the tall man stepped in front of her. “Oh, ah, hello.”

“I half expected to wait all night for a chance to dance with you,” he said, brazenly taking her hand in his without asking.

Mariel was too taken aback to do anything but let it happen. She was still trying to figure out how she’d ended up dancing. “Evander, right?”

“I never much liked my name until I heard you say it.” Evander grinned and spun them. When he snapped her close, she floundered her footing. “Say it again?”

“What? Your name? Why?”

Evander leaned in, and his lips brushed her ear. “Because nothing has ever sounded so lovely.”

“He has some feckin’ audacity,” Erran muttered, slamming his mug onto a passing tray. Evander. Erran remembered why he’d never liked the scoundrel, even though he’d only known him by reputation. “And no decency. What kind of man holds another man’s wife so close? In front of all to see?”

“Few men would make such a bold choice, and certainly no gentleman,” Hestia agreed.

“ I should be dancing with her.”

“You should.”

“But she’s upset, and I’d only embarrass her.”

“Equally embarrassing for others to see her husband hasn’t even approached her, wouldn’t you say?” Hestia leaned close. “But if you storm over like a jealous lover, you will only make it worse.”

Mariel could pin a note to a tree with an arrow from a hundred yards, but she had no inkling of how to get rid of Evander. She caught Erran glaring, which was infuriating when he hadn’t even asked her to dance. He didn’t want her, but no one else could either? Was that it?

“Quiet for my sister!” Khallum boomed.

Mariel used the interruption to make a smooth escape from Evander.

The music died down. Everyone dancing dispersed. “I’m certain ye all remember Yesenia, and if you donnae, I ken ye at least remember her daggers. I know the Garricks certainly do.”

Everyone laughed, a few whistling.

“Maybe you should give the speech,” Yesenia said with a hard side-eye.

Khallum bowed and backed away, leaving her alone at the front of the room.

“All right, that didnae work,” she said.

More laughter.

“So I ken I’m giving a speech.”

“Speech!” someone cried and others joined in, including Destin.

Mariel gawped at him.

“It’s tradition to feast when a Warwick lassie joins the family. I ken the last time ye all ate this good was when I was born, and my father was much more frugal than my brother.” She paused for the chuckles, then turned behind her and grabbed something from someone. A candle. “I accept the noble charge bestowed upon me by my brother and Gwyn.” She smiled down at the infant in the festooned cradle. “Esmerelda, as your mother-in-honor, I am sworn to love and protect you as your mother would, and will, if one day she cannot. Aye, where’s Erran then?”

Mariel averted her eyes when Erran cut through the crowd and joined Yesenia.

Erran accepted a candle from someone with a tight smile. Yesenia narrowed her eyes from the side, something Mariel was also doing. “And what a feast it is!” he declared, his mouth pulling into the briefest wince. He shifted in place, squinted, looked around, and sucked his teeth.

He’s nervous.

Yesenia gave him a prodding look.

“I, as well, accept the noble charge bestowed upon me by Lord and Lady Warwick.” Both of his hands clutched the candle. His gaze traveled to the cradle with a lingering, thoughtful expression. “Esmerelda, as your father-in-honor, I am sworn to love and protect you as your father would, and will, if one day he cannot.”

Khallum and Gwyn joined them, each carrying a lit candle, which they each tipped toward Erran’s and Yesenia’s unlit ones. All four raised their flames, then placed them into sconces on the wall behind Esmerelda’s cradle.

Mariel exhaled through the applause. It was done. She could slip out without drawing too much scrutiny.

“Gratitude to you both,” Khallum declared. “And now we feast!”

“Khallum, if I may...” Erran stepped forward with one hand on his vest.

“May what? Another speech?”

“Of a sort. I’ve something to say, and I’d like everyone here to hear it because I haven’t the patience for fishwife gossip, and even less when it’s wrong.”

Khallum’s brows fused in skepticism, but he stepped aside.

Mariel’s body seized in one fluid clench. Evander, still hovering, made a hmm sound.

“Guardians,” she whispered. “Someone needs to stop him...” Her head shook back and forth. Back and forth.

Everyone fixed their attention to a breathless Erran. His eyes were wide and wild.

“Some of you were here for my blunders.” Erran scanned the crowd, and Mariel ducked behind the nearest person who wasn’t Evander. “Aye, some for both. I suppose curiosity is normal enough, but lies are harmful, so I’ll clear them up now.”

“I can’t listen to this,” she said and turned to leave, but Evander grabbed her hand and snapped her back. She ripped it away again. Where was Destin?

“Yesterday, I saw someone I had once cared for and was pulled into the past for a moment, before I could remember myself. A past I have no need or desire for, not anymore.” He licked his lips and gazed at his feet. “In being so unprepared, I hurt someone I care about very much, and I haven’t known the words that can make it right again.”

“The bastard,” Mariel whispered, heartsick and disgusted. “He’s trying to save face. So his father won’t...” She couldn’t speak.

“Mariel, come on, are you really so deluded?” Destin asked, finally stepping between her and the nuisance of a man who still hadn’t left.

“The woman I married, she’s so unlike me.” Erran grinned to himself, casting his eyes to the side. “Oh, in absolutely every way. And how cross she makes me, how utterly fecking stubborn...” He grew serious again. When he glanced at Khallum in apology, Khallum nodded in encouragement. “But this is about me and how I behaved. And if she’s still here tonight, I need her, and everyone here, to know how I feel about her. And that...”

Mariel refused to hear another word. He could rehabilitate his image without her.

She lifted the dress of her horrid gown and raced out of the banquet.