“I’ve no doubt you have,” I replied sarcastically. “Perhaps he will make you his queen and I will be made a duke, or better, a lord.”
Therese laughed. “You’re not a bit of fun anymore, Virago.”
I caught Claus looking admiringly at Therese. “Ah well, you have plenty of other amusing trinkets to delight you. Now, really, I must say farewell. I am expected in court.” I walked encouragingly over to the door.
Would they never leave? I wondered and thought I caught Therese’s eyes lingering on the pack.
“Come, Claus,” Therese cooed. “Virago’s duty to his king outweighs our company. Duir mustn’t be kept waiting.”
Claus took Therese’s outstretched hand and accompanied her to the door.
I opened it wide. Therese passed, a smile lingering on her lips.
“But will you tell the King of my brother?” Claus entreated from the doorway. “Please, Master Tailor. His gift has brought us both to this country. He must be heard!”
“I will do as I see fit, but make no promises,” I answered vaguely.
I bowed low to both of them and watched them leave. Not until they were ensconced in Therese’s carriage did I shut the door and lean on the solid wood of the doorframe. My eyes rested upon the pack containing the velvet. It was thrilling to have it near me, hidden in plain sight. I’d grown daring in my short exposure to its tantalizing mysteries. Impetuous behaviors often alluded my work-steady hands and thoughtful mind. Today, however, I would be victim to the thrill of impulse. I spun around, yanked open the door and shouted to Claus.
“If you wish me to present your brother to the King, I must bear witness to his talents. Send him to me tomorrow and I will decide if his talent worthy of the court.”
Claus’s head emerged from the open window of the carriage. “You are a fine man!”
I didn’t wait for further adulation, but closed the door and found my gaze drawn to where the velvet rested.
“What are you?” I went to the pack, opened it, hands shaking, and exhumed a length of gold velvet from inside. The morning’s sun had merely been the watery memory of light. Now, as it shone through the windows and hit the golden velvet, the world became a true, burning reality.
“Tell me your secrets,” I begged. My hands caressed the velvet, my fingers sunk into its depths. My eyes searched for a hint of its nature, but saw and heard nothing.
Had I truly expected a reply?
“I’ve gone mad.” I folded the velvet when another impulse hit me.
Must I tell Duir of all the velvet? Why should I tell him everything at once?
There was no answer, and no answer meant no reason. I removed the gold and crimson from the pack.
“I must be mad.” The words repeated, took on a sing-song quality. In doing so, they seemed closer to the truth.
Chapter 5
A carriage did not wait for me this day, and as Sylvain had taken our only horse, I walked the streets. I did so with some trepidation, considering the treasure I carried. The town bustled with trade, noise, and excitement of the pending coronation. There were foreign visitors, and the alehouses were doing a brisk trade. A general sense of unease mingled with the excitement in the air. People were restless. Duir’s coronation would be the one thing capable of resolving their worry. Even as I thought this, I saw a skirmish break out between several men. Luckily, there were guards about, and the dispute died before it truly took root. I clasped the pack closer to me and had passed the now dispersing crowd that gathered around the fight when a grand rosewood carriage drew up and slowed by my side.
“Aye there, Virago!”
I stopped only when I saw a familiar bald head lean out, followed by a swift rapping on the carriage walls for the driver to halt, and the horses came to an abrupt stop.
“Get in out of the street!” Briar, a close friend and member of Duir’s Privy Council, beckoned to me and swung the carriage door open for my ascent.
I knew Briar well as his father had been King Killian’s most trusted advisor and once friend to my father.
“How is your father?” I asked once settled across from Briar.
Briar rapped on the wall of the carriage and answered only after we started to move. “He’s as well as can be, the illness has made him forgetful and unsteady on his feet. It is unlikely he will return to court.”
“I’m sad to hear it. He will be sorely missed. He is an irreplaceable piece in this kingdom’s court.”
“Duir must be content with my counsel. I assure him my father’s wisdom has rubbed off,” Briar returned with a sly smile. “I have nothing to stop wisdom from entering my head. Duir should be glad of my baldness.”
Briar had always shorn his hair to the scalp, and now as I studied his face, I couldn’t imagine him with a full head of hair. The strength of his face bore the baldness not as a quirk, but as an additive to his makeup. His crooked nose bore a bump on its bridge, the result of many street fights. His eyes were wide, blue, and squinted when he laughed. He often stroked his square, jutting jaw when absorbed in concentrated thought or conversation, and the fine, golden stubble that grew there would make a scratchy, papery sound. Today, he wore an open vest of black leather and a white shirt he hadn’t bothered to button past the middle of his chest. A champion jouster, he proved he could bleed with the best of them. I winced at the memory of a recent joust which had knocked him from his horse by a blow to his chest that caused Briar to
