With slow strides he headed toward the castle deep in thought, deftly evading mud puddles and remnant clumps of snow.
As mysterious as Karigan G’ladheon was, he now possessed a puzzle of his own. He gazed at the dragon ring on his finger. The dragon’s tail was wrapped around its neck. The ruby eye flickered in the sunlight with gem fire and something more that was beyond his comprehension. It would require a journey to truly understand it.
Yes, a far-off voice seemed to whisper in his mind. A journey.
“I plan to embark on a journey,” Amberhill said. “I do not anticipate being back in time for the wedding, but I wanted to come to you with my best wishes.”
Zachary stroked his beard. He had been flushed and agitated upon entering the chamber—as if he’d been in an argument or had an unpleasant encounter. Lady Estora had mentioned something about a meeting. Whatever it was, it obviously had not gone the way Zachary wanted, but as they sat there, the king settled down, calmed, and became engaged in the conversation.
Lady Estora sat beside him. She was difficult to read. Was she disappointed by Amberhill’s pronouncement? She’d appeared pleased to see him when he arrived, placing a light kiss on his cheek, a pleasant scent of lavender rising from her skin.
He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable in her presence. Not because she was to be queen, and not because people proclaimed her the greatest beauty in the lands, but because he, as the Raven Mask, had engineered her abduction, only to be double-crossed by his employers, who turned out to be Second Empire. Guilt and vengeance had driven him to chase Lady Estora and her abductors all the way to the Teligmar Hills. Guilt for allowing the gentle lady to be taken into the hands of such thugs, and vengeance for the murder of his beloved manservant, Morry. He had yet to feel, however, that he’d fully righted the wrong.
So there he sat in the parlor of the royal apartments with his cousin and his cousin’s intended, and an elderly chaperone pulling thread on some needlework over by the fire. Servants brought them tea and warm scones dripping with honey butter. Two Hillander terriers watched the scones with bright eyes.
“A journey,” Zachary mused. “I must admit, Xandis, you’ve been a bit mysterious of late, and if I’m not mistaken, your fortunes appear to have improved.”
“Yes, my fortunes have indeed improved, but due to a very sad turn of events. My manservant passed away. Turns out he’d put aside a good deal of currency earned while in my grandfather’s employ, and made some excellent investments. Having no other family, he bequeathed it all to me.”
“That’s extraordinary,” Lady Estora murmured.
Amberhill nodded. It wasn’t every day a lord inherited from his servant. He’d come to the conclusion that in addition to Morry’s regular excellent wages, he’d received bonuses from his grandfather, the first Raven Mask, following particularly successful thefts. But while Morry’s wealth had been enough to begin repairs on his decaying ancestral manse and to acquire some fine brood mares to help establish the horse breeding stable he dreamed of, Amberhill’s true increase in fortune came from pirate treasure. This he used sparingly so his rise to great wealth did not appear too sudden. He did not wish for people to make it a topic of common gossip, or to ask questions.
He sold exquisite pieces of jewelry and gems, as well as coins through dealers he’d worked with when he stole oddments of jewelry as the Raven Mask. These dealers were of questionable scruples, but adhered to a solemn oath of privacy as demanded by their clientele. They dealt in only the finest quality objects as well, but still raised eyebrows at some of the pieces he’d brought them. They were not only worth much for their material value, but were of great antiquity.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Zachary said. “Where will you go?”
Amberhill grinned, and with a half-bow toward Lady Estora, he replied, “Why to Coutre Province to visit the lands your lady’s father endowed upon me.” Lands he was awarded for his part in trying to rescue Lady Estora. What would happen if Lord Coutre learned the truth of Amberhill’s hand in his daughter’s abduction? He’d done much to ensure that would not happen.
To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure he would actually visit Coutre Province. He’d journey to the east coast, yes, but ... The pull was strong, just not specific.
Go to sea, the voice whispered. Set sail toward the dawn.
His new lands in Coutre were simply a convenient excuse.
Excuse or not, Lady Estora expressed her delight at his answer by mentioning sights he must not miss upon reaching the port of Midhaven, including the massive chapel of the moon there, a match to any in size in Sacor City. Her eyes took on a far away look as she described favorite haunts, her voice a song.
She sounded homesick. Zachary listened politely. Polite and reserved, sitting well back in his chair, not leaning toward the lady as if to take in her every word or absorb her essence.
Not a besotted suitor, Amberhill decided. He almost sighed, thinking it would be another of those loveless matches made only for an alliance. Love didn’t matter, really, so long as the two produced heirs. It made him think, rather rudely, of his horse breeding farm.
Perhaps if Zachary put forth a little more effort toward Lady Estora? She was not difficult to look upon and was very kind and intelligent. A rare combination. Zachary should consider himself fortunate. It led Amberhill to suspect there was someone else his cousin desired. Zachary was a serious fellow, and his affections ran deeper than Amberhill’s ever could . He was an upstanding man and a good, decent king, but those virtues were failing him in regard to his betrothed.