A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden (33 page)

“Gibben Nemesio of Willowdale!” proclaimed the announcer.

Gib touched the railing for balance and descended slowly down the red velvet stairway. Never had a mere five steps seemed so treacherous or steep. With all eyes on him, he felt as though his ears would burst into flame along with the rest of his face. What if he tripped? As his feet hit the floor, Gib managed to raise his eyes and get a good look around.

The ballroom was the most extravagant thing Gib had ever seen. The floor was a mosaic masterpiece of tiles made from tiny colored stones and topped by velvet carpeting. Portraits, sparkling chandeliers, and silken tapestries graced the walls, and no less than a dozen marble pillars supported a ceiling dusted in gilding. The golden paint shimmered in the candlelight. Gib gawked as he stared up at the second and third levels of the chamber—two darkened balconies stacked atop each other, high above the party. An ominous feeling swept over him. He squinted in his attempt to peer into the shadows of the galleries above, but the gloom was too thick.
It would be so easy for someone to go unnoticed up there, lurking in the darkness
.

Ladies in corseted gowns and frilly lace skirts twirled around the room on the arms of men, dancing to the beat set by a musician tapping on a hand drum. The mellow timbre of a harp resonated on the walls and a lute and reed flute flirted back and forth with one another, each lending a unique sound to the song. The music was as warm and inviting as the galleries above were cold.

As Joel had assured, royal guardsmen lined the room, standing vigilant and unmoving. In their armored finery, it was almost as though the sentinels were just another splendid decoration in this already opulent chamber.

In the center of the ballroom, a pyre of stacked tinder sat upon a giant pedestal, unlit. Gib imagined at some point tonight the wood would be set to flame in honor of Arden’s fallen heroes.
I’m sure some flashy ceremony will ensue. Gods know, the highborns can’t do anything without causing a scene
.

Joel placed a hand on Gib’s shoulder. “See? That wasn’t so bad. You did well.”

Gib took a jagged breath and closed his eyes for an instant. The ballroom was twirling around him. “I never thought my bravest moment in life would be walking down a set of stairs.”

The smile that broke across Joel’s face reminded Gib of all the reasons he’d decided to come here. The mage trainee deserved support and if he asked Gib to walk down a million steps, then so be it.

“You’re doing fine,” Joel praised. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. There is much to learn when it comes to the formalities of high society.”

Gib nodded. He supposed it was true. The highborns themselves must have dedicated their entire lives to learning each detail of the many rules of their society.

“Seneschal Koal Adelwijn, Lady Mrifa, welcome.”

Gib turned to see Hasain Radek bowing his head as he spoke to the seneschal and his wife. Koal nodded in response and Mrifa offered her hand. Hasain’s manners were impeccable as he kissed her fingers. He paid the same respect to Heidi and Carmen.

Nawaz Arrio stood beside Hasain and followed the same guidelines as his friends, bowing to Koal before kissing each of the ladies’ offered hands. When the young lord got to Carmen, who was trying valiantly to hold back her giggles, he deliberately blew air through his pursed lips onto her hand, making a loud spluttering noise.

Carmen shrieked a laugh. “Nawaz, stop!”

Nawaz stuck out his tongue. “Your hand tastes funny.”

“You’re a clown!”

Lady Mrifa cleared her throat pointedly. “Carmen, manners.”

Carmen fell silent, her smile lost, but Nawaz stood to his full height and shook his head. “No, no, my lady. She’s right.” He winked at the youngest Adelwijn daughter. “But the proper term is ‘politician.’”

Lady Mrifa gasped. Joel laughed and Hasain frowned hard at his friend. Gib found himself grinning despite being pretty sure the joke would be considered in poor taste here.

Nawaz didn’t seem to care even a little as he made his way over to Joel and Gib. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. How do you keep gettin’ dragged to these things?”

Gib’s smile covered his entire face. At least Nawaz wasn’t like the others here. If Gib slipped up or said something stupid, Nawaz would laugh with him, not scorn his ignorance. “Joel invited me. I could hardly say no to the seneschal’s son.”

Nawaz chuckled with a raised brow. “No, I suppose not.” He looked at Joel, mischief dancing behind his terrible blue eyes. “Bringin’ your friend along to every formality? Careful, he’ll run at his first chance once he sees what these things are like.”

“Gibben Nemesio?” Hasain’s eyes shot wide open as he took notice of Gib’s presence for the first time. “Is that you?”

A humored grunt escaped the back of Gib’s throat. “Yeah. I’m afraid to move in these clothes, but it’s me.” He tugged on his sleeves a little and was scolded by Joel.

“You could pass for highborn.”

Gib wasn’t so sure about that, but he was trying his best to play the part. “You think so? You must not have seen my entrance then.”

“They announced you?” Hasain looked at Nawaz in utter disbelief. “How did I miss that?”

Nawaz shrugged. “I told you he cleans up good. At the Midwinter feast he looked like he’d always been a noble.”

Hasain opened his mouth, but the sound of horns blowing stopped his words before they could escape his lips. The music ceased and everyone in the room turned toward the blaring noise. Gib craned his neck, trying to see.

Joel leaned down and whispered, “The royal family is making their entrance now. You’ll get to see them up close.”

“All of them?” Gib didn’t know why the thought made his stomach flutter. He wasn’t likely to speak to any of them, but until now they’d merely been characters in a legend. In person, would they all be as human as Diddy?

The horns grew louder and several of the ladies of the court made oohs and aahs of appreciation. Gib couldn’t yet see what held their attention, but from the wondrous looks on their faces, he was sure it must be them—the family he’d only heard fables about. A few breathless moments later, two figures came into view.

King Rishi was as tall and slender as Gib remembered from the last time they met. His onyx hair was woven into a long, thin braid down his back and his crown cleverly disguised the silver flecking around his temples. Face set and expressionless, he walked arm in arm with a lovely woman with dark hair and eyes. Her gown was immaculate but not as elaborate as Gib would have guessed. The simple, silken folds fell elegantly about her curved frame.

“You’ve met King Rishi.” Joel’s words were hushed and perhaps just a little proud. “She’s Queen Dahlia.”

Gib smiled. “She looks almost young enough to be the King’s daughter.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced. “S–sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, right?”

Joel shook his head gently but didn’t scold Gib. “She’s my father’s younger sister. Here come the royal children. You know Prince Didier.”

Gib looked back to the procession and saw Diddy keeping pace just behind his mother and father. The young prince held his head high and was wearing a simple circlet wrapped around his head. “He seems to resemble his mother, not the King.”

Joel pressed his lips together and Gib stopped talking. “The next one is Crowned Prince Deegan, the future king of Arden.”

Gib watched the boy, probably about Calisto’s age, as he strode stiffly behind Diddy. He looked determined and perhaps nervous. Gib understood the feeling. Having so many eyes on one so young must have been difficult.

“And the young girl is Princess Gudrin.” Gib looked up to see a little girl being carried by the red-headed man with the eye patch and kilt who’d visited the arena on Gib’s first day of training with Diddy.

“Who’s that carrying her?” Gib asked.

“His name is Aodan Galloway. He’s King Rishi’s personal guard and one of his most trusted advisers.”

Gib frowned. “Personal guard? He’s hardly any taller than me—”

“Manners, Gib, manners.”

“Manners are killing me. I never know what’s going on.”

Behind the adviser and princess came a pair of white-robed figures, a man and a woman. Both had raven hair, dark skin, and strange violet-colored eyes that sparkled with mysterious, otherworldly intellect. They looked so much alike Gib thought they had to be twins.

“Those are the Blessed Mages,” Joel answered before Gib could even open his mouth to ask the burning question. “The ones I told you about. They’re charged with protecting the Radek family.”

The royal family ascended from the ballroom to a dais, where a table and benches sat. They took their seats, but still no one in the room dared move or speak. Only after all members of the family were situated and the strange mages had taken post behind the table did the King raise a large hand into the air. “You may continue.”

The music picked up where it left off, and the guests went back to their previous conversations.

A servant came through, a platter topped with chalices balancing in one hand. “Would any of my lords or ladies like wine?”

Gib glanced at Joel and was met with a smile. They each asked for a glass.

“We don’t even have to get our own drinks? What wonders.” Gib looked around at the high arches of the ceiling and the fine paintings all around them. Even if he absorbed every detail he’d never be able to do the ballroom justice when he described it to his brothers. “This place is truly a dream.”

“More like a nightmare,” Nawaz groaned.

Gib was sure he hadn’t heard him correctly until he realized Heidi was coming for them.

Nose in the air and skirt flaring impressively around her, she marched up to Nawaz in a huff. “You haven’t even asked me for a dance yet. Have you forgotten your manners entirely?” Heidi offered her hand.

Nawaz grudgingly reached for her. “Maybe.”

Hasain broke into a wide, fierce smile showing dimples for the first time. Gib realized he hadn’t seen Hasain smile without mockery or sarcasm before. The young Radek lord was typically as well guarded as the palace walls. Hasain pushed Nawaz’s arm. “Yes, go dance. Stop being rude.”

Terrible blue eyes skewered Hasain as Nawaz handed his chalice to Joel and followed Heidi onto the ballroom floor. She could be heard needling Nawaz about his lack of manners and how a lady should never have to ask for a dance.

Gib could no longer contain himself and started laughing in earnest. A moment later Joel joined him while Hasain smiled in a smug manner.

“I almost feel bad for him,” Seneschal Koal said with a sigh. He watched his daughter as she continued to talk the ear off of her chosen lord. Nawaz nodded curtly, never once offering to interject. “It looks like he’s learned not to interrupt. That’s a valuable lesson.”

Lady Mrifa cuffed her husband’s arm. “That is
not
funny. Heidi is clearly smitten with him.”

Koal frowned. “He doesn’t appear to feel the same way for her.” When Mrifa gasped, he patted her hand gently. “In time, maybe—but let’s not preoccupy ourselves with matchmaking tonight. They’re both still young and I would see her finish her studies at Academy.” He took his wife’s arm. “Let’s go see my sister and the children.”

Mrifa intertwined her arm with his. “Yes, all right. Gudrin and Deegan both look as though they’ve grown since last I saw them.”

The seneschal chuckled. “I was talking about the King and his adviser, but we can see the actual children too.”

Mrifa swiped at his chest as they walked toward the dais. Gib watched as people parted for them almost as if they were royalty themselves. In a way, Koal and Mrifa were like a Tale of Fae on their own. He imagined theirs was a beautiful romance. They looked like two halves of one whole, destined to be together as if written in the stars. He wondered if he and Joel would look like that someday. Would it ever be safe to show their affection so openly?

Hasain sighed. “I’m going to take my leave as well.” The young lord nodded to Joel and Gib before he passed by them and went to mingle with the other guests.

“Well look at you. Gibben Nemesio, as I live and breathe, I never thought I’d see such a sight.”

Gib turned toward the familiar voice and grinned. Tarquin Aldino strode closer, dressed in formal finery with a rather lovely girl by his side. They contrasted nicely: him, pale and clothed in pastels, and her, dark and draped in vibrant reds, oranges, and gold.

“Uh, yeah. Here I am,” Gib called out in greeting. “When did you get here?”

The young lord laughed. “Long before you. My father always likes to be early to these things. We’ll also be some of the last to leave. He and mother are both terrible gossips.”

Gib grinned. Tarquin must have gotten his mouth from his parents. He paused, turning to look at the lovely, exotic girl who had accompanied Tarquin. Gib nearly jumped out of his skin when he recognized her face. “
Kezra
?”

Kezra folded her arms over her chest. “Really, Nemesio?”

Eyes wide, he couldn’t stop staring at her. He’d never seen her in anything but her training tunic and breeches. Now, in her scarlet dress, golden jewelry, and shimmering makeup, she was unrecognizable. The sentinel trainee’s face burst with warmth. “You look like a girl.”