She quirked her lips into a scowl. “That is the question, is it not. I cannot say for certain that your idea of freedom and mine are at all alike. For starters, you’re nearly penniless now. You’ll have to work to earn your way, but I trust your ingenuity and willingness to do…” She waved a hand in front of her face as if batting away the mere idea of physical labor. “…whatever it takes to make your own way in life.”
Just then, Norwin cleared his throat and knocked softly on the wall of the main hall. Behind him were the staff members of the entire household. Ms. Deylia, Letti, and dozens more who had been roused from their beds and their quarters. The only ones missing were Biko and Idony—the crofters.
“Ah! Gather around, everyone. Please.” Lady Lombard seemed warmer and more animated than I’d ever seen her. It was like the stiff façade she maintained relaxed, but only slightly.
Drustan was leaning impishly against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest while he watched my parents’ staff, and even their children dressed in sleeping attire, fill the grand main hall. Norwin turned up the fire and Ms. Deylia looked lost, her mouth sagging open in shock.
“Should I make tea?” she asked, her voice hushed. She looked from Norwin to my mother to Drustan, her eyes lingering longest on me. “Or perhaps…”
My mother shook her head. “You’ll no longer need to serve our meals.” She punctuated her words with an odd smile. “I’m afraid you may all be out of work. But I will supply the new lord of the Lombard estate with excellent references. Should he keep you on—”
My mother’s announcement set off a rush of panicked questions and exclamations. Norwin clutched the front of his doublet, as though suffering a sudden bout of chest pain. Syndrian rushed to the man, but Norwin looked distastefully at him, as though receiving aid from a cutler was beneath him.
“Now, now!” My mother clapped her hands loudly, her piercing words silencing the staff. “We have much to discuss. The first of which is the announcement that my daughter’s betrothal has been called off. My husband has been arrested in connection with some business dealings, but we have…friends…” She paused to nod at Drustan. “…In high places. Accordingly, Lord Lombard and I will be moving out of the manor and the rightful first-born heir of this estate will be notified of the vacancy.”
“Milady.” Norwin sounded as though he were choking on the words as he spoke. “The heir is your daughter, is she not? Surely Miss Lombard would prefer to keep the staff intact, as we’ve faithfully served this family for…”
My mother held up a single finger and silenced Norwin. The entire household looked from her to him, to me and Syndrian, the confusion on their faces no doubt mirroring mine.
Lady Lombard walked up to me and held my face in her hands. “No matter how you feel I failed you, my dear daughter, never doubt that I love you.” Then she turned to the staff and announced, “The rightful heir of the Lombard land, property, and treasury is the former crofter, Lord Biko Ravenni Lombard.”
ChapterEighteen
Irolled over in my bed, squinting my eyes to see him through the darkness. In front of the fire, on a humble bedroll, I could just make out the shape of a muscular, naked back moving slightly with the deep breaths of sleep. A smile curled my lips as I slipped quietly from between the covers.
The dwindling flames danced in the fireplace, coming to life in time with the movement of my hands as I approached the nourishing heat.
There you are,I thought, directing my energy toward the fire—not the sleeping man.Wake for me.Burn bright and vibrant, strong and steady.
I lifted my hands and the flames blazed hotter and even more colorfully, tendrils of blue clashing with the sun-kissed yellow and reddish orange. I shivered, my bare toes cold on the chilly floor. I padded closer to the heat and stared into it, memories flooding my mind.
But the flare of heat must have disturbed him. The blankets rustled and a sleepy voice called to me. “Pali?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, the thin sleeping gown providing little protection from the chill in the air.
Syndrian rolled over and immediately sat up. His hair was loose and his chest naked, but as the blanket fell away, I could just make out the drawstring at the waist of his breeches. The poor man. He’d insisted on sleeping in my quarters to protect me from any disturbances—from our staff or any enemies who might find their way to the Lombard estate yet tonight—but he of course had nothing suitable to wear to sleep. He’d stripped to the waist and settled down on a modest hay-filled bedroll by the fire. He’d refused any of the available rooms in the manor so he could stay close enough to hear even my softest cry for help.
The household was abuzz downstairs, which probably had contributed to my inability to sleep. The staff worried after their futures—and nothing I said could reassure them. Some were already packing their belongings, despite the efforts of Norwin to pretend that absolutely everything would remain the same.
My mother had left the manor with Drustan, apparently as they’d planned all along. He had arranged transportation and promised to deliver my mother safely to the capital, where she would stand as a witness in my father’s trial. He assured me that my parents would be safe—as he put it, they had friends in much higher places than the Otleiches could reach. He’d said that I would be safe as well, since those friends my father had—the ones so very close to the queen—would not abide any threats against me or my mother.
Neither Syndrian nor I felt much confidence in the promises of, well, a con man. I understood that my parents had been quietly working with the crown for more than a year to put an end to the massive counterfeiting effort that had become the primary source of the Otleich family’s wealth.
They’d used the regular gaming that took place at Knuckles & Bones as a way to move the counterfeit silver into the economy of Tutovl. The queen had looked away from the enterprise as long as taxes were paid using genuine silver. And she greatly benefitted from moving those fake coins out of Tutovl in trade for gold and other goods when my father traveled outside of the realm.
But when counterfeit coins began turning up in the tax coffers of shire-reeves throughout Tutovl, the queen had confronted Wilmot Otleich about shifting his business in another direction. She didn’t mind if fake money was produced—as long as none of it passed back to her in the form of tax payments.
Despite the fact that my parents had agreed to turn against the Otleiches, and would provide the evidence required to bring them down in exchange for amnesty for their part in the crimes, the threats from the crown had indeed panicked the patriarch of the crime family. When Wilmot Otleich felt the pressure, he sought to solidify his bonds to any of the many corrupt members of his network who might be persuaded to turn on him.
That’s when he demanded a marriage between one of his sons and me. To ensure that my parents’ loyalty would remain with the Otleich family. What Wilmot did not know was that all along, his network of cronies was conspiring to bring him down.
Drustan and my mother had been in constant communication while my father continued to work and travel, so as not to arouse suspicion with the Otleiches. Before he and my mother slipped off into the night, Lady Lombard had pulled me aside and made me issue a promise. “Promise me you’ll tell Biko and Idony…” She trailed off, looking troubled. But then as if remembering that shame, poverty, and a chance of circumstance would not change who she was, she lifted her head and said, “Tell them someday I hope to speak to them in person. To explain.”
If she’d intended to apologize, she certainly would not do that through me.
Drustan had shaken his head. “I’ll be back in a few days with contracts.” His eyes glazed over with a greedy gleam that made my stomach roil. “The new Lord Lombard will have business to attend to.”
“Thinking about what might have been?” Syndrian left the mussed bedroll and stood behind me, lacing his arms around my waist.