I arrived at the castle thoroughly on edge from Seton’s teasing touch and Auberon and Cale’s yelling. The quiet, dark hallways leading to the bright and noisy hall where Duir held court proved a blessing to my tumultuous emotions.
Seton and I waited to be announced, as was the custom when one brought a stranger before royalty. Upon hearing my name, we were joined by two armed guards. The court had quieted, but a hum vibrated among the people. When Duir held his hand up, the hum ceased.
Auberon and Cale had taken their places on either side of the throne. Briar was absent.
Duir leaned forward as we approached. I could see earnest interest in his eyes and a playfulness in his smile. “My friend, Virago.” He majestically offered his hand, to which I quickly bowed and kissed his princely ring, which would soon be exchanged for the King’s black diamond.
I guessed that while Seton and I were waiting to be announced, both Cale and Auberon made his musical talents known.
“My Lord,” I replied, head bowed.
“I hear you have brought me another astounding talent in the form of this hearty young man,” he continued in the same dramatic voice.
“Yes, Your Grace. I present a talent new to me, but memorable and hopefully worthy of your ear.” I lifted my head to see Duir staring not at me, but at Seton.
“Your name?” Duir asked, his tone rising to indicate slight boredom.
Seton bowed politely. “I am Seton and I come to beg Your Grace’s delight and that of the court. May I play for you?”
I heard laughter from the court and was relieved when I found Duir only barely smiling. Auberon nodded assuredly in my direction.
“Silence,” Duir shouted. “I do not find anything amusing and loathe the one who laughs in the face of a master artist, as I am told this young man is, so I bid you play, musician, and silence these fools!”
Once Seton found his lute, the music resumed. This time slow and low, at first like summer wind in the forest but it grew, and as it grew, so did the intensity in Duir’s face. It was the look he showed me when I revealed the velvet to him, when he realized he was in the presence of something rare, something he had to have as his own. I knew immediately he would engage Seton. The realization made my stomach pitch. We would be close together in the presence of many who condemned sexual passions between men. As the music rose, my eyes followed it above the heads of the court. Even the stray birds that snuck in through windows and flapped about the rafters were silent.
His music seduced the court. When I allowed myself to look at him, he stared back, a slow significant rise in the tempo, and a faint smile indicated his enjoyment at my watching him. This time Duir caught the look between us, and I could only hope he would read no more into it than a mere coincidence of visual contact.
Seton stopped playing and for several seconds the familiar eerie silence descended upon the hall. Duir broke the spell with sudden and raucous applause. The court exhaled a collective breath and joined in the applause until the hall filled with the rapturous sound. I couldn’t help smiling and laughing as the applause rose and, Seton, surprised by the reaction, bowed low and remained bowed until the applause subsided.
“Will you play for my coronation feast and celebration, master musician?” Duir asked. He obviously admired Seton’s ability. He smiled broadly and leaned from the throne excitedly.
Seton spoke with confident poise. “I have traveled far to seek your audience, Your Grace. Nothing would bring me further joy than to entertain you on such a monumental occasion.”
Duir stood and drew up a chalice resting on a small table next to him. “I drink to you both, my loyal and talented tailor, Virago, and to my new and most gifted musician. Seton of faraway lands, your gifts will be well received in this court!” He drank and the hall filled with applause.
We both bowed low and left Duir’s audience. I heard talk swirl around us and felt pats of congratulatory hands and words of praise. We just made it to the entrance of the hall when I heard Duir’s voice shouting my name above the din. I stopped and was surprised to see Duir approaching us. Two guards on either side strode alongside him.
Seton intently watched Duir’s advance.
“Your Grace?” I started to say, but felt my voice fall away. Sylvain! My brother’s name burned hot across my mind and even before it faded, Duir came close.
“Where is your brother?” he asked, looking about. “Did you not bade me welcome him into my court?” His voice lost all kingly reverence and had taken on the low, suspicious tone.
“He is unwell, Your Grace, and sends his earnest thanks and sincerest regrets,” I answered nervously, and as I articulated the lie, wondered if I had somehow ensnared myself in a trap yet unseen.
Duir clasped one of my shoulders in each of his hands and stared hard into my face. I dared not to look away, for Duir would know I lied if I did.
His eyes searched my face for a second. “You must send my wishes for a speedy recovery to him. I trust you will be able to proceed with the making of my garment without his aid. Though how a blind man is capable of sewing a stitch worthy of a royal garment eludes me.”
“Of course, Your Grace. You will have a vest worthy of your greatness!” As the words tumbled from my mouth, I fought the sudden bitter wave of anger caused by Duir’s insult towards Sylvain, but couldn’t retract the note of sarcasm in my words.
“You would do well to impress me as I’m sure there are many who would be more than able to produce
