Restoring Dermot Page 16

  He kissed my cheek and left.

  I headed upstairs a short while later, trailed by Brianna and Gwen. Just as we made it to the second floor, we met Kariann with a basket of clothing in her hands. Her curtsy displayed more flair than usual. As always, her face was covered in makeup, but it did nothing to hide the red flushing her ears. Perhaps it embarrassed her to be caught with laundry in hand.

  “Kariann, when you get a moment, I would like to go over what I will be wearing to the ball.”

  Gwen linked her arm in mine. “Oh, can we have a look as well?”

  Brianna gestured to the basket in my handmaiden’s arms. “Are those Deidre’s clothes?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. She asked me to take them to the laundry, but I can do that later.” She set the basket next to the wall in the hallway and folded her hands in front of her.

  Brianna’s brows were lowered with her lips pressed together. Even wearing the loose dress from the beach with her unkempt braid hanging down her back, she was every bit the queen in this moment. “We will see the ball gown first, and then I will have a talk with my daughter. Your responsibilities are to Princess Adrika, not to Deidre.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Kariann curtsied again and then turned to head back down the hallway. “Right this way. I have the gown airing out in my room.”

  We stopped at a door just past the one leading to mine and Rian’s chambers. I had never entered a servant’s room before. The unadorned chamber held one small bed against the wall. A clothing rack stood at the foot of the bed, and next to that was a door, which I knew led to the dressing room joining this chamber to mine. This was a rarely occupied room, one only used when my family visited the kingdom of Aisling and perhaps a few others.

  For the first time, I wondered what Damini’s chambers had been like back home. The woman had been like a second mother to me, and I knew next to nothing about her. Did she miss me? Every time I tried to picture how her future life would be, I came up blank. Would she continue in the role of nursemaid to some other child? She was still fairly young. Perhaps my uncle would see fit to find her a husband.

  Kariann pulled a red and green beaded garment from the rack and spread it across her bed. “This is the one Damini said you were to wear to the ball. I was to purchase a mask for you to wear, but we left so quickly, I didn’t have time to take care of it before. I am sure there will be more of a selection here once the Session vendors arrive.”

  I recognized the silk garment as one that had belonged to my mother and felt that familiar feeling of being smothered by her restrictions even now, years after her death. I glanced at the other two women who were taking a closer inspection of the dress. I stepped nearer to my handmaiden. “Were you given money to purchase a mask?”

  She glanced quickly up at me and then back toward the floor before discreetly shaking her head. I had never seen the woman looking so subdued. Being in the presence of the two queens was daunting at times, even for me.

  I briefly touched her on the arm. “Prince Rian is taking me to the market today. I will pick one up there.” I stepped closer to the bed and ran my fingers across the beaded sleeve of the dress.

  “I have always admired the workmanship of the garments worn by Cordelian women. Can you imagine all of the hours that went into making just one of these dresses?” I looked into Brianna’s guileless, hazel eyes. Something about her statement was unnerving. I may be half Cordelian by blood, but I was a Dermish princess. I had always felt I should dress to represent my own country rather than my mother’s. I had the feeling Brianna felt the same way, but this chafed more than it brought comfort.

  Gwen ran a hand across the hem. “I know. To think that one of our ball gowns can be made in under a week.” She turned to look at me. “Did you know that Brianna and I sometimes design our own gowns? It is great fun to see one of my rough sketches brought to life by a skilled seamstress. I imagine the designs alone for this dress took pages to even get the idea across. It is a beautiful dress.”

  Before I could even respond, Gwen had me by the hand as her face lit with a smile. “You should allow me to design one for you. Not for the ball, of course, but just for fun. It can be my wedding gift to you. Please allow me to do this for you.”

  Her smile seemed so genuine, it was hard to resist. “How can I say no to such an offer. I would be honored.”

  “What do you think of this one?” Gwen surprised me by having a sketch ready before we left for the market. Her skills were not as rough as she had implied earlier.

  The strapless dress had tucks and folds across the bodice and then flared out with a full skirt. The hem gathered up to the waist on one side of the front to reveal another skirt beneath. It was unlike anything I had ever worn before. Just thinking about wearing it stirred my emotions.

  “It is gorgeous. How did you get this done so quickly?”

  “I like to doodle in my spare time. I already had this sketch done up, but I have never used it. As you can see, I do not have the figure to go with this dress. Do you think you would like it?”

  I took a deep breath, hoping to dispel the shakiness from my voice. “I love it.”

  “I was thinking a black underskirt with a deep-colored top layer—something that would go with your coloring. Maybe we can add some rhinestones to the bodice. We can decide once we see what the crafter has to offer.”

  The more Gwen spoke of the dress, the more I could picture me wearing it. If only it were already made. What would Rian think if I showed up in something like this to the ball?

  I squeezed her upper arm. “Thank you, Gwen.”

  She turned and pulled me into a hug. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to be able to do this for you.”

  The lump in my throat kept me from saying anything more.

  Once we were all gathered downstairs, the six of us headed out for a leisurely stroll toward the market place set up just outside the protective walls surrounding the castle. I held on to Rian’s arm as I tried to take in every sight at once.

  In Dermot, the session market was smaller and more subdued—likely due to the heavier tax Father charged to outside vendors. In Gilvary, it was all about the latest gadgets, but market during Session in Aisling was more like a carnival. We passed by a man on stilts high above the crowd, a juggler, and a fire breathing woman dressed like a dragon. Lively music filled the air along with the spicy scents coming from the food court.

  I entered the fabric shop with the two queens and one of our guards, while the men perused the Gilvarian gadget booths across the way. A display of readymade swim dresses hung from a rack at the front of the shop that immediately caught our attention. These were more colorful than ours and had an extra layer sown in across the breast with matching bloomers to go with them.

  “You can’t get these anywhere else in Kearnley. You may try one on if you’d like.” The sales pitch was not unexpected. The same types of cries could be heard throughout the market.

  Gwen touched the elderly shop-owner on the arm in a familiar way. “Not today, Blanche. We need fabric for a dress for Princess Adrika.” She unfolded her design and offered it to the lady. “I was thinking black tulle for the underskirt. What do you have available for the top that would match her complexion and dark hair?”

  Blanche placed a finger over her lip as she studied the parchment. “Hmm, let’s step over here and see what we can find.”

  We followed the woman to the shelves of silky material on the back wall. She immediately began pulling bolts of dark jewel-toned fabric and tossed them onto a table. Automatically, I reached for the deep purple, enjoying the cool feel of it beneath my fingertips. I secretly adored this color, but it was not one that had been approved by my mother.

  “Do you like it?”

  I jerked my hand away when Brianna spoke.

  “I think this amethyst color would look gorgeous on you.” She held the bolt up to my face. “Gwen, what do you think?”

  A smile lit Gwen’s face. “I love it
, but it is really up to Adrika. Just a moment.” She opened her purse and held out a silver engraved compact mirror. Then she held the end of the fabric up to my face for me to see.

  There were no words. I had never been asked my opinion before, had never been allowed to choose what to wear. I had no idea if the color suited my complexion, but as I stared at the purple reflected in the small mirror, I had to have it. If it turned out wrong, there would be no complaints. It was my choice.

  “I think the smile on her face says it all. You love this choice, do you not?” Brianna gave my arm a squeeze.

  I could only nod in agreement.

  After that, Gwen spoke with the woman more about the style and how the dress should be made, while Brianna and I made our way over to a display of masks. Brianna picked up a red mask trimmed in gold. “I believe this would go best with the ball gown you have. Of course, you may choose any one you would like, but I want it to be my treat.”

  The red and gold mask would match my mother’s dress beautifully, but I felt no joy in choosing it.

  “You really do not have to do that. Rian has provided well for me.” I patted my purse. This was the first time I had ever carried money with me. It was a little unnerving. It was as if I expected someone to snatch it from me at any moment, which was ridiculous. We were the only patrons in the store, and a guard was stationed at the door.

  “You are allowing Gwen a dress, let me do this small thing. I insist.”

  I only nodded to Brianna’s request.

  Gwen joined us. “Did you hear? She can have it ready in a week. I never imagined it would be so soon with Session going on. She will get your measurements before we leave. Have you found a mask? We can look elsewhere if necessary. I dare say every vendor and shop owner in Aisling will have a display of them.”

  “This one. This is the one I want.” I felt daring and bold when I lifted the deep purple mask with silver trim from the shelf. A silver butterfly was perched on one side. It perfectly symbolized how I felt in that moment—like a butterfly, set free from its cocoon. Free to make choices of my own.

  Twenty-three

  Rian

  Reagan had insisted on church attendance once he became my guardian. I had always chafed under this regulation, but since becoming a believer, I craved the chance to go and opportunities had been scarce. As Adrika and I entered the church in Aisling, I scanned the familiar plaque beside the door, my gaze settling on the last part of the verse carved into the wood.

  What must I do to be saved?”

  And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,

  and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.

  How many times had I read those words and not taken it to heart? How different would my life be if I had accepted this truth as a child?

  Just before the service began, we made our way to the pews reserved for the royal families at the front of the sanctuary. From the moment the congregation stood to sing, this service felt different than what I had experienced here as a child. At one point, Reagan had his face and hands lifted toward heaven, as if he expected the Lord to take him up at any moment. The same spirit moved though me, reminding me of the night I was saved.

  After the congregational hymns, the choir sang, and then the preacher announced that the king of Aisling would share one of the songs he wrote. Thinking this must be a mistake, I automatically looked to Garrett. I had never heard my brother sing before and the thought of him writing a song was astonishing. As his deep voice rang out, I began to consider the inspiration behind his words.

  Sometimes pain racks my body,

  And I feel alone and blue.

  Then I feel His holy presence,

  And joy comes flowing though.

  Years ago, I learned to trust Him,

  To call upon His name.

  Through faith I feel and hear Him.

  The Comforter is there again.

  Had Garrett felt God’s comfort as he was being tortured in that forsaken dungeon by our father? I could not imagine. Brianna wiped tears from her face. The sound of sniffing came from behind me. I could feel the sting in my nose and behind my eyes, but held my emotions in check. I focused once again on the face of my brother standing in front of the congregation—the people of his kingdom. There was a type of peace shining there that was beyond explanation.

  I wanted to reach out and grab that same peace for myself. According to Garrett and Reagan, that involved me forgiving my parents. I was beginning to see the merit behind this suggestion. I spent the rest of the service praying that God would help me toward that endeavor.

  Most everyone else napped after church, but I was restless. Now that people were starting to flow into Aisling for Session, the reality of our true purpose for being here began to weigh on me. Both of my brothers had warned me that once we stepped into that meeting on the first of June, kingdom loyalties would be our priority. We would each be representing a different kingdom and our responsibility would be to our own people and not to family.

  The citizens of Dermot did not feel like my people as of yet, but that did not lessen my obligation to them in any way. One day I would be their king—a role I took seriously. I was already looking to the future, to the kind of ruler I intended to be. For sure, I wanted to be less like my father, and King Farris was not much better.

  The sound of metal against metal, accompanied by the grunts of two people honing their fighting skills, rang out through the front courtyard. Shouted words of encouragement added to the excitement. My blood pumped faster as I made my way to the shade of the practice arena on the far side of the stables. This was the very thing I needed to distract me from my thoughts.

  Even above the din, the warriors’ heavy breathing could be heard. The small woman in the arena hardly looked a match for the hulking man across from her, but she had obviously been holding her own for a while. Her short, blond hair was plastered to her head while sweat rolled from her opponent’s bald pate.

  A swift thrust and flick of his dull sword and hers was suddenly flying through the air. “Now what is your plan, little brush rat?”

  The flat inflection of his voice gave him away as an Aislinian, and his insult labeled her as one from Gilvary. Female warriors were common enough here in Aisling, but when I left my home kingdom, women had just begun joining our ranks.

  The slight woman began to circle the man still holding his sword. The eerie smile on her face silenced the crowd, but the emerald green of her eyes sent my heart pounding in my ears. Now that I could see her face, I knew exactly who she was, and my past came rushing before me.

  In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she had swept the man’s legs with her own and flipped over his now horizontal body to retrieve her sword. The air from his lungs, as well as the sword from his hand, had left him in the process. She stood silently over his bulk now with the tip of her sword at his throat. I had seen fighting like this in Rivania but never here. Judging by the stunned silence, no one else had either. Where had she learned to fight like this?

  Gemma Fergus was one of the many reasons I had for leaving Gilvary. Things had gotten too complicated between me and my childhood sweetheart. She had been my first in a long line of lovers. Gemma was nothing like the rest of the women from my past, but I had used her as such. I still had enough of a conscience back then that I knew what I was doing was wrong. I had not wanted to do any more damage to this girl that I, at the very least, cared about. Leaving had seemed the easy way out.

  The crowd split to allow her to leave the arena. She sauntered over to another warrior standing on the outskirts of the spectators, a small towel hung from his outstretched hand and a beaming smile lit his face. I recognized Kyle Darby as well. He had been my childhood nemesis, or thinking back, it may have been the other way around. I had always considered him weak—a trait I despised. Truthfully, the clear admiration he was showing toward Gemma bothered me still.

  The money that had been exchanging hands among the crowd a moment before seemed t
o evaporate into thin air as they wearily watched me make my way toward the two Gilvarian warriors. If Garrett or Brianna had a problem with the gambling going on within the walls surrounding the castle, they would have to deal with it themselves.

  The smile slid from Kyle’s face, and he nodded as soon as he noticed my presence. “Prince Rian.”

  Gemma jerked around to face me, her eyes stretched wide in surprise before they narrowed in barely controlled anger. I remembered her moods well. “Rian. What are you doing out here among the peasants?” Her words sliced the air.

  Kyle took a step back and looked down at the ground between his boots as his face colored. At the very least, his woman was in danger of a reprimand, and he had no warning to give her? It seemed he had not changed. Neither had she. I took a moment to say a little prayer. I had no business judging the man, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause more strife with the woman before me.

  “May I speak to Gemma in private?”

  Kyle glanced up at me, gave a nod, and then walked away without a word.

  “If you came to pick up where we left off, you can forget it. I hear you found yourself a princess. Looks like you will get to be king after all.” She turned and slowly walked away from the arena, and I followed.

  I had forgotten all about sharing with her my desire to lead. At the time, I was chafing under Reagan’s rule and thought I could do a better job. I had been beyond ignorant at the time. “I can tell you are still angry with me. I wanted to say that I am sorry for my misdeeds against you. Knowing how it would hurt you, I should not have left without saying anything.”

  She stopped midstride and turned to face me. “That is where you are mistaken. Whatever I felt for you before, left me right after you did. If I do feel any contempt for you, I have other reasons.”

  Gemma started walking away from me again. I studied the back of her damp hair as I tried to think what those reasons could be. I had not seen her in over ten years. Whatever misdeeds she had perceived belonging to her during that time, were of her own imaginings. I decided to focus on my true guilt where this woman was concerned.