Page 27 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
IDIDN’T KNOW YOU HAD A BROTHER!”Talia hissed, still staring after the newcomer in a state of complete bewilderment.
“Raiva’stongue,” Wen cursed under his breath as he rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t expect him home so soon. Excuse me.”
And then he was gone up the stairs, too.
Talia stood there a few moments more, dripping water on the stones, and then went up to her own room andpeeled off the ruined dress.
There wasn’t time for another bath before dinner, but Lyna and Ro dug up a clean gown from somewhere and wrestled Talia into it. It was much plainer than the other one, made of a coarse burgundy with lace on the sleeves, and she wondered if it was one of theirs. They didn’t have a second pair of shoes for her—she’d have to go barefoot.
“Dairon is still gatheringthings for you, Miss,” Lyna explained as she tugged a comb through Talia’s tangled hair. “Everything ought to be here before you go to bed. If we’d known you were going to go walking in therain…” She shook her head disapprovingly and yanked at a knot so hard Talia’s eyes started to tear.
She descended the staircase alone, anxious, though she couldn’t have said exactly why. Rain battered overheadon the domed roof, lanterns casting moody shadows around the vestibule. She padded across the cold stone and down the hallway, stopping just outside the dining room. Inside, a fire roared brightly on the hearth, and the Baron and Caiden sat at a long table underneath a many-paned window, rain glimmering on the glass. Wen was nowhere in sight.
Talia hovered in the doorway and waited for them tonotice her, but they didn’t. They sat with their heads bent together, talking animatedly about road conditions and taxes and the state of the harvest. She couldn’t help staring at Caiden. He was sitting with his back to the door, so she couldn’t see his face, but his straight, dark hair gleamed in the firelight, and the muscles in his arms were clearly outlined beneath the thin material of his shirt.He wore a gold ring on the smallest finger of his left hand, and she caught a glimpse of his jaw as he turned his face toward the Baron—it was strong and tan and cleanly shaven. His voice rose and fell as he talked, deep and smooth, it was tinged always with a hint of easy laughter.
And then suddenly he turned his head and saw her standing there. A surprised smile touched his lips as he pushedback his chair and stood at once, bowing politely. “Miss Dahl-Saida! Won’t you join us?”
The Baron looked at Talia too, and frowned. “Oh. I’d forgotten you.”
That was not exactly encouraging, but she stepped into the room anyway, sinking into a chair across from Caiden. She left an empty seat between herself and the Baron.
Caiden sat back down and smiled at her. “Forgive us for the dull conversation,Miss Dahl-Saida. I’ve just returned from my review of the province and I was telling my father about it.”
“I see.” She wondered how exactly Wen fit into this odd family hierarchy.
As if drawn by her thoughts, Wen appeared in the doorway, his damp hair curling over his ears, his cravat hastily and messily tied. The Baron glanced up in obvious irritation. “We’ve been waiting for you nearly a quarterof an hour, boy. Come and sit down.”
Wen eyed Talia as he crossed the room, settling into the chair beside her. He smelled like rain and soap, with a slight hint of the sea, and he looked even more tense than he had in the vestibule. He fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth.
Ro and the housekeeper, Dairon (who was indeed the middle-aged servingwoman who had first answered the door), broughtin dinner on silver trays: rice with curried lamb, tea and wine, hot biscuits with honey. Talia realized she was ravenous. When was the last time she’d eaten? Had it really been this morning, at that flea-ridden inn? Thank gods for something other than fish.
She dug into the curry, forcing herself to eat slowly.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” said Caiden to Wen, who wouldn’t meet hiseye. “Wendarien has found himself a bride.”
The Baron spooned honey onto his biscuit and took a sip of wine. “I performed the betrothal ceremony myself this afternoon.”
“And where did Wen find his lovely bride-to-be?” Caiden flashed another smile in Talia’s direction, then looked at Wen again, his eyes hardening. “Did he pull her out of a mirror?”
The Baron choked on his wine and Wen grippedthe edges of the table, his knuckles straining white against his skin. “The Empress sent her,” he spat out.
Caiden raised an eyebrow. “We have an Empress now?”
“The former child Countess of Evalla, the Emperor’s heir.” The Baron carefully laid his wine glass back on the table.
Forty years ago, Evalla’s army had been instrumental in the overthrow of Ryn. Talia wondered if the Baron was thinkingof those days, back when he was royalty, and the Ruen-Dahr seemed suddenly very sad to her—the ghost of old glory, like the Baron was the ghost of a prince.
“I received a letter from Her Imperial Majesty two months ago, informing me of her imminent ascension to the throne and Miss Dahl-Saida’s arrival.”
Wen and Caiden locked eyes across the table. The tension between them seemed almost tangible,threads of hurt and hostility that Talia had no reference for.
“And why,” Caiden continued, not breaking Wen’s gaze, “would the new Empress of Enduena want to personally select a bride for my little brother?”
“It has nothing to do with him,” Talia cut in, her own temper flaring. “I was banished here and the betrothal is part of my—” she couldn’t finish.
“Part of your punishment,” said Wen,so quietly Talia barely heard him.
She looked aside at him. What was he being punished for?
