“She's doing everything you asked. If she didn't like you, she would have said, 'No!'—and not quite so politely. Think of it as a present from her. A wedding present.”
“It's not a present if I'm paying for it!”
Aber sighed and shook his head. “You don't understand. She did you a bigger favor with that marriage than you realize. Lord Yanar is one of King Uthor's advisors. Marrying his daughter will confer immediate status on you within the court… not to mention a measure of protection. Yanar is powerful and influential.”
“Braxara and I aren't married yet,” I said with a grim little smile. “And a year is a long time to wait.”
“Want me to see if Aunt Lan can move up the date a bit?”
“Not particularly!” I replied with a laugh.
He chuckled in return. “No, I guess you wouldn't!”
“I don't suppose you have a Trump showing Braxara, do you? I'd like to have at least some idea of what I'm getting into.”
“Nope. She's not someone I'd ever want to know well enough to paint!”
“Wonderful,” I muttered. How bad could my future bride be?
Port chose that moment to speak.
“Sir,” he said, face appearing in the center of the door. “Anari wishes to enter.”
“Let him in,” I said.
Port swung open, and the elderly head of the household hurried inside, breathing hard. He must have run up the stairs, I realized with alarm.
“What's wrong?” I demanded.
“Lords—” he panted. “Lady Freda—has just arrived—and—”
Before he could say another word, I raced past him and into the hall. Freda, here? It could only mean the worst sort of news.
Our sister had been ordered to hide in Shadow until we found our enemy and straightened out this whole mess. Nothing short of disaster should have brought her home early.
Aber raced after me, and side by side we pounded down the broad stone staircase to the cavernous entry hall. There, surrounded by a flurry of movement, stood our sister.
Freda wore a long red silk dress, red shoes, and a matching broad-brimmed hat, now perched at a steep angle atop her head. Heavy gold rings set with large rubies covered her slender fingers and flashed in the flickering light of the lamps. She looked tanned and well, as though returning from a month's vacation at the seaside.
Around her, more than a dozen servants, dressed in what looked like cloth spun from pure silver, were shifting twenty-five or thirty large wooden trunks. Several guards and household servants helped. All the while, six women similarly dressed in silver milled about Freda, some fussing with her hair, others with her clothes… she seemed more a pampered princess than the mystic fatalist I had known in Juniper.
“Freda?” I said, reaching the floor. I made way for the first of her trunks, which two men carried up the stairs with grunts and groans.
“Oberon!” She turned toward me with a cool smile. “I trust you are well.”
“Yes, despite several assassination attempts.”
She showed no surprise at that statement.
“And an impending marriage,” Aber added.
That got her attention. “Who is the bride-to-be?”
“Cousin Braxara,” Aber said.
“No, no.” She shook her head. “That will not do at all.”
“I promised our Aunt Lanara,” I said.
“I will see it undone later, after I have unpacked.” She beckoned Anari over. He had followed us down the stairs at a more dignified pace. “Have my usual rooms prepared. I will be staying.”
“Yes, Lady Freda.” He bowed.
“Hold on,” I said to Anari. Then I turned to Freda. “You're not staying. It's not safe. People are still trying to kill us.”
“Bosh,” Freda said. “A well-raised Lady of Chaos does not get into such troubles. Not in the Courts, and not in the Beyond. Do you think me a common duelist?”
“Ladies of Chaos don't duel, they poison,” said Aber from behind me, his voice a loud stage whisper.
Freda pretended not to hear him.
“I have come to see Father,” she said. “Where is he? I have important news. It cannot wait.”
“He's… not available.” I swallowed. “In fact, he doesn't want to be found. He made it clear when I tried to contact him by Trump. He said he'll be back in a few days.”
“That,” she said, “is not acceptable.”
“If you have a better plan…”
“Of course. Luckily for you, I came back early. Clearly someone with sense needs to take charge of things. How did you ever get trapped into marrying that cow Braxara?”
She clapped her hands sharply and waved away the women who had been fussing over her. They joined the men dressed in silver, helping shift some of the smaller packs and bags.
Noticing my nonplussed expression, she said:
“Good help is hard to find. You sent me to a Shadow where I am worshipped as a goddess; it is easy to get used to being pampered. So I brought a few of the faithful with me. They think this is the afterlife.”
“A few?” I eyed the throng critically. They didn't seem to be having any trouble acclimatizing to the Beyond, I noticed somewhat enviously. In fact, they all seemed to be happily taking it in stride… though I supposed, if you served a goddess, you must be prepared for such things.
“Barely two dozen,” she said.
“Your right, I'm sure.” I sighed and drew her to one side, where they couldn't over hear our conversation. “What are you really doing here?” I asked. “Your instructions were clear. You were to stay in Shadow until the danger is past. Nothing has changed. We are still under attack.”
“And,” said Aber, trailing us, “Dad's going to be furious when he finds out. He picked that Shadow especially for you and Pella.”
“Do not prattle on,” she said to him. “This is neither the time nor the place for such a—”