Promising Light (5 page)

They stopped at an inn in
Ridgefield that night, and the next morning, the carriages set off
again. The prince and Grace talked about Victory Day and the dinner
at the castle.

Prince William shook his head. “I
think it was quite a mess.”

“Really?” Grace tilted her
head.

“My father was drunk, my mother
was exhausted, those knights were quite obnoxious, and everyone
wanted the dinner to be over so they could see the fireworks.” He
looked half-amused, half-annoyed.

“I had fun, for what it’s
worth.”

“Of course you did, because you
spent the night with me,” Prince William said, a smile spreading on
his face.

Grace laughed. “Oh, I see. I should
have known that’s what it was.”

The prince shrugged, his smile
turning into a grin. “I could tell the other girls were
jealous.”

“Except for Lady Rebekah. She was
a bit busy with Sir Leonard.”

Nodding, the prince raised his
eyebrows. “Yes, well…”

“Don’t let that discourage you,
though. Lady Rebekah just had the longest two weeks of her
life.”

The prince’s smile faded. “You’ve
been counting the days?” He met her eyes.

Grace hesitated, her mouth falling
open. Did he know about her and Dar? Her cheeks warmed. “Well, no,
not necessarily. I just remember.”

Prince William looked toward the
small flap opening that showed the passing trees. “It was quite
sudden.”

Grace didn’t respond at first. She
cleared her throat and tried to look as if she wanted to gossip
about it. “Rebekah was upset over his disappearance. She actually
invited me over for lunch to ask my advice.”

“Why did she ask you for
advice?”

She’d had the same question. “I
don’t know. Rebekah said I was sensible.” She shrugged. “Even
though I’ve never been in a courtship.”

“Lady Grace, if I may be so bold…”
Prince William trailed off. “I know the customary age for marriage
is rising, but… have you shown interest in any of the men in
court?”

Her face heated up, and she looked
down at her lap. “Oh, your Highness, I—there are many honorable men
at court. but no. Not seriously, at least. I did have a small crush
on Sir Rider, but Lady Phoresa got to him first.”

She looked at the prince, forcing
her hands to be still in her lap. She wanted to burst out and ask
him if he knew about the man at the tavern. Had he sent him?
Because Dar was actually unsafe or because he’d wanted
Grace?

“And there’s been no one else?”
The prince leaned forward.

Grace thought of Dar. The first man
she’d kissed, the first one she’d gone to bed thinking about, the
one she’d told so much about herself. She thought of the times when
they snuck out to Sir Harry’s vineyard, and he’d read to her, and
they’d fall asleep in the sun, hoping no one found them.

No one found out until the man met
her at the pub, the one who made their relationship fall apart
within a few hours. Although, it had to happen eventually,
right?

That’s what she kept telling
herself.

Of course, if the prince had sent
the man to the tavern, he knew the answer to that question. But the
last thing she wanted to do was admit to it. Her relationship with
Dar was a complicated thing, but she wanted it to hide it from
others, partly because of how precious it was to her and partly
because telling anyone about it would make her look
foolish.

“No,” she told the prince,
“there’s no one else.”

* * *

They arrived at Nyad the next
afternoon. Governor Peter’s manor, where he was hosting the prince
and his company, was a different architectural style than most of
the buildings in Renaul. Instead of built high, the house was long,
and as a servant showed her to her room, she saw the rooms and
hallways were open and airy. It was warmer in Nyad, and the windows
let in a breeze, blowing across her body.

Her room was small compared with
her own at home, but she had a bed that was low to the ground, a
mirror, a closet, and a tub and washbasin behind a folded screen.
She thanked the servant and washed her face. As she brushed through
her hair and pulled out a nicer dress for dinner, she wondered if
Dar or his father would be here. Dar’s father, Alastor Silva, only
visited Renaul for royal events. He lived in Rahuda, the capitol of
Shyra, where Dar had grown up. Sometimes she thought back to her
trip and tried to imagine Dar a young boy walking those roads she
walked.

An hour later, the same man who’d
taken her to her room knocked on her door. She smoothed down her
blue dress as she followed him to the dining room.

The room had a low table, and the
men and women were seated on the floor around it. Grace stopped in
the doorway, looking at the table with curiosity. The prince looked
up and saw her. He stood as she came to the open spot next to
him.

“This is such an interesting
table,” she said.

“Yes, it’s an old tradition in
Nyad, and they haven’t changed it yet,” Governor Peter said. He was
a younger man with brown curly hair.

Grace took the prince’s hand and
began to lower herself onto a pillow at her spot. She glanced
around the room—and nearly stumbled when she saw Dar across the
table. He was looking outside the window, his face half-turned away
from her.

Prince William caught her elbow.
“Are you all right, m’lady?”

“Yes, fine,” Grace said, blushing.
She sat down, hoping the others hadn’t noticed.

The prince sat down again, and his
leg brushed against her dress. This wasn’t the ideal dress for a
situation like this since the skirts went everywhere, but she
wouldn’t be changing now. She forced her hands into her lap,
gripping her dress.

Before dinner was served, the
prince introduced her to the guests. Everyone but Governor Peter’s
wife and two daughters was connected to the prince
politically.

“You know Dar, of course,” Prince
William said, motioning with his hand.

Dar inclined his head, meeting
Grace’s eyes.

Her stomach twisted, and she didn’t
know how she’d make it through this trip with him here. Maybe she
shouldn’t have come. Prince William poured her some wine and smiled
at her. The knot in her stomach loosened just the
slightest.

Most of the dinner conversation was
polite small-talk as they caught up with family affairs. Grace cast
fleeting glances at Dar and his father. Sitting next to each other,
she was struck by their similarities: their strong jaw, the arch of
their eyebrows, even their mannerisms. Dar’s black hair was shorter
than it had been when he left, too short to curl.

She caught Dar’s gaze on her once
during dinner, and they made eye contact. In that moment, she
wished nothing had changed between them, that they still met at
night, talking for hours, memorizing the constellations. He looked
away after just a moment, though. She stared down at her food,
knowing they could never go back.

After dinner, they retired to the
sitting room. Grace played the piano at the prince’s request, and
others were soon playing card games or smoking. She’d just finished
her third song when the prince sat down next to her.

“Do you know Gabriel’s fifth
ballet?” he asked.

“Yes, your
Highness.” She almost told him she’d known it since she was twelve,
but she remembered her mother’s lessons on humility. Her voice
echoed in Grace’s head:
A noble never
brags about her accomplishments
. She
almost rolled her eyes just thinking about it. Why did men brag so
much, then?

“Let’s play it
together.”

Grace hesitated. “Which part do you
want to play, your Highness?”

Prince William paused. “You don’t
have to call me ‘your Highness.’”

“What?” Grace asked, taken
aback.

He glanced around the room. “I
really don’t mind if you call me William when it’s just the two of
us.”

“It’s hardly proper.”

The prince smiled. “It is because I
say it is. Please, just William.”

“All right… if you
insist.”

“I do. And do I have your
permission to call you Grace?”

“Yes, of course.” Grace smiled.
She glanced up and saw Dar’s eyes on her. He looked away quickly
and turned toward the fireplace. She turned to the prince, who was
watching Dar. “Shall we play, William?”

* * *

The next morning, after a spicy
breakfast that left Grace’s mouth tingling, the politicians left to
meet in one of the rooms of the manor. The prince left her with
Governor Peter’s wife, a bony woman who towered above Grace in
height. She showed her to the library and left to attend to her
daughters’ music lessons. Grace almost asked if she could join, but
the books caught her eye instead.

Bookshelves lined
the walls of the library and two tables ran the length of the room.
Most of the books were political. War, history, maps. She found a
section in the back corner with books that looked as though they
hadn’t been touched in years aside from dusting. Grace leaned
closer so she could read the titles on the spine. Some of them were
in another language. Others had names like
The Barbaric World, King Crupin,
and
The History of Greenwich.
Greenwich was what Haltar used to be called,
centuries ago, and King Crupin the monarch at the height of their
kingdom. The books must have been immensely old.

One title caught
her eye:
Shyra’s Secrets.
She pulled the book off the shelf, holding her
breath. The volume had a thick cover, possibly leather. It also had
a lock. She tried to wiggle it open, but it needed a key. She
frowned. Why would this old book sit here for so
long?

She then saw that the library
opened to a garden. Leaving the book behind, she walked outside.
The warm sun shone down on the flowers and elaborate paths between
the plants. As she moved down the dirt path, she noticed dozens of
plants she’d only seen in books. Pink flowers with round, smooth
petals. Orange buds with long stems. Palm trees. Nyad was close to
the ocean, but she hadn’t thought it would be so different from
Renaul.

A bench in the middle of the garden
was the perfect place to read for a little while, and she enjoyed
the sun while losing herself in a novel—one that wasn’t
locked.

She wasn’t sure how much time
passed when she heard someone’s voice. She paused, calling out,
“Hello?”

A moment later, Dar stepped onto
the path from a left turn ahead. He inclined his head. “Lady Grace,
I was looking for you.”

Her throat tightened. “Sir
Dar.”

“Lunch is ready.”

“It’s already time?” Grace asked,
standing and smoothing her dress down.

“Yes.” Dar motioned for her to go
before him.

She nodded, turning left. She’d
hoped for a chance to visit the powder room before lunch. The warm
weather and her walk had made her a bit sweaty.

“How long have you been out here?”
Dar asked.

“I don’t know. I lost track of
time.”

“It looks like you may have a
sunburn.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, and
he pointed at her cheeks. She touched her face, and her skin was
warm to the touch. Dar half-smiled, glancing away. His expression
turned blank.

“Do you know Lady Sashe?” she
asked.

Dar half-glanced at her. “The
king’s mistress? Yes, I do.” He paused. “Why?”

Grace swallowed. “On Victory Day, I
met a woman who had a booth near the city square. She said she knew
Lady Sashe from Shyra.”

He set his jaw, turning to look in
front of them again.

What Tia had said about shape
changers of Shyra sounded like nonsense, something she’d say to get
Grace to buy her books, but who knew? Her father had reacted in
such a way as to make her think he was hiding something.

They reached the door of the
library and walked inside. “She told me there were shape changers
from Shyra,” Grace said, turning around to face Dar.

He shook his head. “I’ve heard
those legends, too.” He walked to the door.

Grace moved quicker than he did to
block his path. “What makes you so dangerous?”

“Lady Grace, please,” Dar said.
“It’s over.”

“I know it is. You made that quite
clear. But I still want to know why.”

Dar reached for her. Her breath
caught in her throat, but then she realized he was going for the
doorknob.

“It doesn’t matter.” He pulled the
door open until it hit her back. “It doesn’t concern you
anymore.”

* * *

Chapter Four

Sierra groped around her tent,
searching for her brush. She had to go out any moment now, and
she’d only just pulled on her dress. It was only through her
employer, Childress, that she knew the tigers—particularly
Ella—were restless today.