I nodded, a little apprehensive about what I should say as I accompanied Aunt Serena down the castle corridors to the main hall where a feast was being held.
The great hall was an enormous room filled with people. Ladies in vibrant satin dresses and men in their finest evening attire sat on benches at long wooden tables eating and talking, while a scruffy-looking group of musicians played a lively melody in one corner of the vast room. The hall was packed to bursting, and raucous laughter and the clink and tinkle of plates and goblets filled the air as I followed Aunt Serena to the other end of the hall, where a wooden dais stood.
Uncle Gabriel was already seated on a high-backed velvet chair behind the massive, rectangular oak table. Beside him, on his left, were two men I had never seen before.
The duke introduced me as his ward who had come to visit from another kingdom. He had explained to me earlier that no one but a few trusted people must know who I really was.
One of the men stood up and bowed, first to Aunt Serena and then to me. He had oily, black hair, which was thinning at the temples, and his nose was pointy and reminded me of a beak. “Lord Larney at your service, my lady.”
The second man did not even bother to look up from his food. But Aunt Serena had to be gracious. “Sir Gothero. How nice to see you again.”
He finally looked up and I thought he resembled a fat, angry toad. His face was red and splotchy, and he ate his food with his hands, oblivious to the droplets of sauce dribbling down his massive double chin. “Serena.” He inclined his head. “The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”
Much to Aunt Serena’s dismay, he proceeded to plant a sloppy kiss on her hand. I had to stifle a giggle at the look on her face when she had to discreetly wipe her hand on her skirt.
Aunt Serena nodded at them and sat down on her father’s right, with me seated next to her. I glanced at Uncle Gabriel. He had given up listening to the ramblings of the insipid Lord Larney and was busy eating his food, spearing the contents of his plate with a small, sharp dagger.
I was famished, and Aunt Serena piled my plate with everything that the blue-and-gold liveried pages were serving—small game pies with golden crusts, fresh breads, sliced meat, and cheeses that were quite different from those I had eaten before, but nonetheless rather delicious. There was a fish dish in a lemon sauce, honey roast duck, and bacon-wrapped venison with some delicious-looking vegetables.
As we were eating, the trumpets blared and I looked up to see a whole roast boar on a gigantic silver tray being carried through the hall by four plate bearers. I wondered how I was possibly going to eat so much food, but I was quite happy to give it my best shot.
A handsome young boy, slightly older than I was, arrived suddenly and sat down in the chair beside me. “Sorry I’m late, Mother.” He was huffing and puffing and his fine blond hair kept flopping onto his face as he pushed it away irritably, only to have it fall back into his heavy-lashed blue eyes all over again.
Aunt Serena gave him a fierce look. “And where have you been, young man?”
My blond cousin laughed jovially and started eating as soon as he sat down. “Oh, just catching up with some old friends.”
“Can you at least have the decency to greet our guests before you stuff your face?” Aunt Serena’s voice was soft but stern.
He turned and flushed, suddenly seeming to remember his manners. “Greetings. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
I smiled as I studied him. So this was my cousin, Erien? He was tall and lanky, but he ate like a big, burly man. I was not sure if Aunt Serena had told him who I was, so I didn’t say much. Not that he would have heard me anyway; he was busy helping himself to copious amounts of food, which miraculously kept disappearing off his plate.
Aunt Serena shot him a withering look. Erien probably thought the admonishment was over, but I had seen that look before. That was the same look my adoptive mother gave me when she was in company and couldn’t shout at me. My poor cousin was going to get an earful after dinner, I was sure of that.
It was a dark night, and lightning flashed overhead, storm clouds thundering above the castle as I hurried down long stone hallways after dinner, searching for my room. I wished I had asked someone to show me the way instead of wandering aimlessly through the corridors for an hour, trying to find it myself.
I made a few turns that turned out to be dead ends or locked doors, when I noticed a figure crouching near one of the doors at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar, and the figure was obviously spying on someone.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I inched closer to try to glimpse who it was. Suddenly, the figure turned as lightning flashed outside. I breathed a sigh of relief; it was Erien. But what was he doing listening at open doors?
He waved me over and put his finger to his lips. I moved closer and crouched beside him, listening.
“I told you, Gothero, we must inform the duke,” said Lord Larney’s voice. I recognized it immediately.
“He will throw us in the dungeon as soon as he knows.” Gothero’s deep voice was distinctive. “We cannot defy Morgana; Lucian will hunt us down. It’s better we do what she wants. Silverthorne will forgive us eventually.”
“Dead men don’t forgive.”
“I was joking,” said
