“Mother.” He gripped her elbow, forcing her to stop and face him. He flinched at what he saw in her face, but he steeled himself. “Now we will proceed,” he said. He led the procession back to the manor, head held high, ignoring the guards forcibly encouraging his people to cheer.
The small quartet of musicians positioned at the top of the room was playing as they entered the ballroom. The guests were greeted with glasses of wine to smooth over any awkwardness. The atmosphere lightened as more people entered the hall and began to circulate. Alyssa held her father’s arm, her face strained and pale, her excitement replaced by horror and acute disappointment. Her father looked grim, and the other guests avoided them after a glance at their faces.
“Papa, if I have to have a happy face, so do you,” she said with a woeful smile.
He sighed. “I am so sorry, Alyssa. I should never have brought you here. If I had known...” His voice died away. He tried again. “Stefan was such a good friend. I thought Aaron had been following in his footsteps, such a solid lad, where did it all go wrong?” He shook his head. “Simeon is the same, challenging tradition, they aren’t listening... they don’t understand the damage they are doing.”
Alyssa stared at her father, horrified; he sounded so defeated.
“So serious? This cannot be, the most beautiful lady in Deepwater and not a smile in sight. Come dance with me,” Aaron commanded. “By your leave,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he led Alyssa to the dance floor.
Hugh stood and seethed, but he made a concerted effort to smooth his face. He looked around the room, pausing when he saw Aaron’s warden and Councillor Peverill in deep conversation with a shadowed figure who seemed to be interjecting comments. Hugh drifted across the room and stopped next to the Lord William who managed Marchwood Watch, a large tract of forest south of Deepwater and Greenswatch which gave way to fertile arable lands and marshes towards the southern coastline of Vespiri. Lord William had been confirmed the previous year and had proved to be an excellent forester, embraced by the Lady, in tune with his land and his people.
“William, Imelda, well met.” Hugh greeted the elegant woman standing beside William. “What did you make of the ceremony?”
“I don’t think I want to comment,” William replied, observing the room. “I think I need to mind my borders more closely,” he said, lowering his voice.
Hugh nodded in agreement. “Be careful who you invoke the call with; the response may not be what you expect. If necessary, my steward Garrick knows the protocols.” He flicked a glance back to where Peverill still stood in deep conversation. “Do you know who that is? The man in the black robes, speaking to Peverill. I haven’t seen him before.”
“He appeared about two months ago. They say he was assigned by the King to bring the latest rulings to the council, though he doesn’t speak to anyone except Peverill or Aaron. An acolyte descended on us last week spouting a load of rubbish, trying to say it was the new rule of council, twisting the wording until it no longer makes sense.” William was getting quite heated. He took a deep breath and stared across the room. “Peverill is on his way.”
Hugh calmly changed the topic. “How are your saplings coping with the excessive rain over the last few weeks?”
William grimaced. “The ground is getting too soggy. We’ve had more rain in the last month than in the last half-year; much more and the roots will be escaping. There is already too much movement. We get a strong wind and...”
“Now, now, no talking shop at this great event, you’ll bore the ladies,” Peverill interrupted with a small smile at Lady Imelda.
Lady Imelda heroically took her life in her hands and said, “Why, Councillor Peverill, thank you, I would be delighted to dance.” She passed her glass to her husband and dragged the bewildered councillor to the dance floor.
William choked as Hugh murmured, “Your wife is a diamond, William, a true diamond.”
The evening crawled on. Alyssa twirled by with different partners, a fixed smile on her face and an unnatural glitter in her eyes. Aaron led her into dinner and Hugh could see that Aaron thought the glitter was for him, as he preened unbecomingly.
Just before the evening drew to a close Lady Olivia paused beside Hugh. She had managed to escape Peverill’s attentions. “Save me!” she whispered before hurrying away, peering over her shoulder.
“Working on it,” Hugh muttered in return.
Early the next morning, before the revellers from the evening before were stirring, Hugh crossed the damp courtyard and entered the stables. It was raining again: a light mist that looked to remain all day. He yearned to get on the road home. To get back to his lands and ensure that his borders were secure. There was so much to do. He needed to set up the new security protocols he had agreed with William the previous evening. He snared his young page, Norris, as he scampered towards the stalls with a bucket of apples. Hugh dropped a screw of paper into the bucket. The stable was quiet and still, the silence interrupted by the sound of gentle drips in the damp air and the horses shifting sleepily in their stalls.
“Boy. Listen to me,” he said. Norris looked up and dropped his bucket. “Saddle up your horse and take that message to Garrick. You will do it discreetly; you won’t tell anyone where you are going, and you will leave straight away, you understand?”
Norris bobbed his head, eyes wide.
“Make sure no one sees you, and under no circumstances should that message be placed in any hand except Garrick’s.”
“Yessir.” The boy scuttled off into the stables. Hugh glanced around and, still unobserved, strolled back into the mansion. He stopped as a door off the foyer opened, and Lady Olivia
