October 12 / Hagalsan 20

  Only a day later than planned, Elestrin thought to herself as Cathalburg shrank in the distance. Slightly behind them and to the left, a converted barge held the majority of the houses leaping at the opportunity to spend the winter in Rolnburg.

  The day was warm for early autumn, the breeze refreshing, and not even the presence of Aster could dull her joy at being out of the Duke’s palace. Unfortunately, her newfound friends, Nerene, Ellowen, and Roselle, did not have the clout to join her on the Hauptmann; instead they and their mothers, as well as Ellowen’s two brothers were forced to make do with tents pitched on the deck and cargo hold of the grain barge Uncle Diemon had hastily commandeered.

  Speaking of, she turned as her uncle trudged up alongside her, and leaned against the rail. “How is Aunt Yora doing?”

  “She’s resting now. The herbal tincture you gave her helped with the seasickness. Waves and pregnancy do not mix.” He sighed. “Brantley should have sent Axiom instead of me.”

  “He trusts you, Uncle, more than anyone else. We will take things slow, and Aunt Yora agreed to come willingly.” Elestrin rested her hand on his. “It will be alright, Uncle.”

  Ashore, the woodlands were a riot of fall colors, reds, yellows, oranges, dark greens, and more. The fields were mostly harvested, the pale stubble of wheat or barley stalks stark against the black earth. She watched as a farmer harvested pumpkins.

  What would my life have been like if I were a commoner? Most likely dreary, cold and hungry, without recourse to magic, or books, or music except for what I make myself. Would I be married off by now, with a little one or three? Or would my family have quietly killed me for being too short? Would it even matter among the common folk? No! This is the life I was born into. Even if I become an old maid, I can still support my family. My sister needs me, Aunt Yora needs me. Focus on what I can change, and do not dwell on what I cannot.

  “I am going to go down to visit with Aunt Yora. Perhaps I can convince her to eat something, or take a stroll on the deck.” Uncle nodded, and she left him observing the pole-men at work guiding the ship along with the currents of the Barugala to the capitol.

  Unfortunately, she was intercepted by two young men in their early twenties, accosting Marilla. Her twelve-year-old sister was at the normal age for formal engagement; neither so young her fiancee would need to wait overlong, but not so old a hasty betrothal would set gossip-mongers' tongues ablaze.

  “And I am telling you, little one, that I would be the better candidate to rule House Gastap once your father is with the light. I may only be a third son, but my father is a count.” That would be Ardarikh, the brother of one of the girls who’d bullied Marilla in Cathalburg.

  Marilla shook her head. “Papa will decide, and—” She was cut off.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  “Nonsense.” The other replied. “I have already led raids against the dwarfs, defeated ice wyrms, and am more suited for leading a county on the frontier.” That would be Turisind, the bastard son of Corvus, though unlike his father, noted for his bravery, cunning, and courtly manner. Neither had any realistic path to power, save promotion by war or marriage.

  They had cornered poor Marilla against the rails, hidden by the cabin from Diemon. Elestrin sighed. She stepped up and skirted around the men. “Gentlemen, if you wish union with House Gastap, it is more appropriate to speak with my uncle, who is aboard ship, if you must speak for yourself. It is better for your mother to speak with Aunt Yora.”

  Marilla took her hand, and stepped closer to her. Elestrin squeezed it reassuringly. “It is undignified for a man to approach a maiden he is not related to.”

  Turisind at least had the tact to look embarrassed. “I apologize; I have no woman in my household to speak for me.”

  “If you wish to lead Gastap, I am the heir,” she stated boldly, “and not my younger sister. Lord Turisind, you dishonor your reputation, a momentary lapse, I am sure.” She clasped her hands together demurely, and looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes. If he had any hesitation, it was too brief for her to notice. “If the truth be told, your sister reminds me of my mother. I loved her; in her memory, I strive to be everything my father is not.”

  “Then you have a difficult path in front of you; Lord Corvus’s reputation is well known in the north.” Elestrin allowed a small smile to cross her lips. “I wish you the Light and speedy success.”

  Ardarikh rolled his eyes, and muttered softly enough Elestrin was not sure she was meant to hear. “The bastard’s buttering up to the halfblood bitch.”

  Elestrin turned on him, her expression carefully neutral. “Lord Ardarikh,” she stated, not allowing her anger to color her voice. “my father is a much more sentimental man than his reputation implies. He is hesitant to affiance my sister, though she is of age. I fear your insult to his blood has tainted any proposal you may make with him. He, and my uncle, will be informed of this.”

  “Baron Brantly is old, over forty-five, with few options. He will have to choose, one way or another.” His eyes narrowed. “My house is old, and well connected. I have the prestige needed to raise your house’s reputation once again.”

  Your house is also poor enough, she bit back the thought, you have to beg a ride to Rolnburg for yourself, and you will sell your sister to the highest bidder, as your brother commanded. Such is the fate of a half-sister. If this is the family she was raised in, perhaps I should be more sympathetic to Aster.

  “Sister,” Marilla spoke up, “Aunt Yora sent me to find you.”

  “Then let us go to her. Gentlemen, if you will excuse us?”

  Ardarikh folded his arms and widened his stance, but Turisind stepped aside, and bowed as they hurried below deck. It was much darker below-deck, the mage-lights a pale substitution for the autumn sun. The ship creaked slightly as they made their way to the forward cabin where Yora rested.

  “Oh, it is not so bad as all that.” They heard Aunt Yora through the thin door. “Ione was actually quite tall, as were her mother and father.” She was talking about her, Elestrin realized. “Those old rumors are just the work of jealous tongues. I’ve seen shorter human women in Rolnburg, and even in the south where no dwarf ever trod.”

  “Just go in,” Marilla whispered. Elestrin sighed, knocked on the door, then opened it. Yora was propped on the bed with pillows, sipping her tea, while Aster and a woman she presumed her mother sat at her side. A six-year-old boy sat in a corner, quietly reading a picture book.

  Aster had a sour look on her face while her mother and Yora chatted amicably. The glare she shot the sisters could have melted steel. Remain calm. Elestrin reminded herself Remember the poisonous family she grew up with, and be nice to her. Nice, but firm. I will kill her with kindness.