David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 304
🕑 Added 2025-11-18 18:44:35 +0000 UTCChapter 304: Invitations
The morning after arriving in Freeport, Liv joined her cousin Miina for practice down on the beach. Kaija and three of her guards patrolled around them, and it occurred to Liv that if Baron Henry’s Whitehill guards had been this fastidious about her safety, she would probably never have met Cade in the first place. But then, she hadn’t even been an adopted daughter, then – only an apprentice with a bit of talent.
Miina reached down to scoop up a handful of sand. “Ready?”
Liv nodded. She’d learned the incantation quickly, once there had been time to slow down and devote herself to regular practice once again. The difficult part – but also the necessary part, for this particular spell – was to cast silently.
That particular technique came naturally to her with Cel, now, and looking back on how she’d filled the bathroom of the girls’ dormitory at High Hall with melting blades of ice, that was quite satisfying. Liv had even got to the point, through extensive practice, that she could silent cast a mana shield – but it wasn’t until they’d returned to Whitehill, after the council at the Hall of Ancestors, that she’d had time to really practice with Dā.
“Dāēmus Aiveh Æ’Orvis Merg Mæ Ser’Theles,” Liv whispered, pronouncing the words as quickly as she could. The sand was already flying from her cousin’s hand, and the word of time rippled, flexed, woke in a way that was difficult to put into words, but felt so very similar to those eternally stretched moments atop the wall, when the crown forces had attacked Lucania.
This time, rather than acting on instinct, Liv was in control. A stasis bubble flexed into existence around her, anchored to the world, and caught the spray of sand before it could hit Liv in the face. The tiny pieces of ground shell hung there, glittering in the morning sun, as Liv felt her mana draining away to fuel the spell. Seven rings, gone in the instant of the initial casting, and more pulsing out of her like a dying heartbeat.
“Good,” Miina said, letting her hand fall to her hip. Liv’s cousin walked around the bubble, examining it. “If you’d been wounded, this would fix you in the moment of the strike. It would give a healer like Arjun time to get close, to be ready when the stasis bubble collapses.” She came into view around Liv’s other side, having walked behind her. “But it isn’t a perfect defense.”
Liv allowed the bubble to collapse, and just managed to close her eyes before getting sand in her face. “No. If that had been a crossbow bolt, it still would have killed me,” she said, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “And I can’t do anything else while I’m in the bubble, while the rest of the battle goes on around me.”
“All of that is true. And though you have, frankly, a ridiculous amount of mana, even you can’t hold it forever,” Miina agreed. “Supposedly, Lady Däivi could walk in and out of time. She’d make a bubble like that to catch a crossbow bolt, like you said, or even a jet of fire, and then she’d just walk out of it, leaving the attack behind, still frozen.”
“But no one can do that now,” Liv said. “Is that why Ractia said the word was broken?”
Miina shrugged. “The line between what Däivi could do because she was one of the Vædim, and what the word can’t support any more because it’s damaged… isn’t clear. And the elders of the house don’t like to talk about it. A lot of people think the word broke when Däivi died, but that never made sense to me. I think the Trinity broke it so that they could kill her.”
A flash of motion coming down the stairs drew Liv’s attention, and she looked up to see Keri bringing his son down to the beach. There were two wooden swords tucked under his arm, and when Rei saw that Liv was already down on the sand, he came running down.
“Having a lesson?” Liv asked. “I am, too.”
“And it isn’t done yet,” Miina reminded her, with a grin. She stooped and lifted another handful of sand. “Again!”
“Better step back,” Liv told the boy, and then rounded on her cousin. “And you – we’re going into the city to get a couple of balls or something for you to use. There’s going to be sand all over this dress, and I’m going to have to change.”
☙
While they – in theory – had plenty of time before they needed to be at the palace that evening, letters from the nobles present in the capital had begun arriving practically as soon as Liv’s carriage had rolled down the hill into Freeport proper.
There were invitations to breakfast, to tea, or to a luncheon; and there was a very well-written letter proposing a friendly sparring match at one of the practice yards in the city, from Castor Hading, the heir to Bexbury. Another note, which Liv had picked out from the pile Thora had dumped onto the desk in the library, proposed that she accompany the young lord Tryon on a tour of the city walls, while Baron Ryder had invited her to an afternoon out sailing on the bay. His two sons would, of course, be present.
“Why does everyone want to marry me,” Liv groaned, letting her face fall forward until the heels of her hands were pressed into her eyes, supported by her elbows against the polished wooden surface of the desk.
“Because you’re a queen, of course,” Blaise Crosbie said, from where he lounged across one of the cushioned benches by the fireplace, a goblet of wine in his hand. It was the first time that Liv’s ambassador to Lucania had looked up from shamelessly flirting with Miina since Liv had begun going through the letters. “And now that the war is over, marrying a son to you means having a grandson ruling the neighboring kingdom – eventually.”
“They haven’t really thought this through, however,” Miina pointed out. “A human husband would give you a child that’s only a quarter Eld, Liv. The odds are they wouldn’t live long enough to inherit anything at all.”
The thought made Liv flinch, and she wondered whether Ceria had once felt misgivings about giving birth to a daughter who would never be immortal. Aira had outlived the Lady of Thorns, in the end, due to violence and war – but if things had gone differently, the goddess would have had to watch her daughter age and die.
Blaise shook his head. “It’s still worth the chance. Liv has no heirs right now, and a history of fighting her own battles from the front lines. If she gets herself killed fighting Ractia, Castor or Isembard or whoever will be able to rule as regent for a child. Think of all the trade deals a family could benefit from, over the course of a decade. If you have a spare son or two, why not throw them at her and see whether she takes a liking to your darling boy? There’s really nothing to lose.”
Liv groaned. “I’m just going to throw all of these in the fireplace,” she grumbled, lifting her head and standing up to gather all the letters.
“Don’t do that.” Blaise sat up, stood, and walked over to her desk. “You need the great council to ratify the peace terms, and you’re going to want friends in the council whenever we have to negotiate border tariff rates, or any number of other things. The key is to sort out the important invitations from those which are only a waste of time.”
“Fine.” Liv shoved the pile into her ambassador’s arms. “Pick out the ones that we absolutely cannot afford to ignore, and we’ll find a way to give them a bit of time with me. But nothing private – I don’t want to be trapped in a room, alone with some baron’s son.”
“You’re worried they’ll make a pass at you?” Blaise asked.
“I’m worried I’ll freeze them in a block of ice when I lose my temper,” Liv growled. “And don’t schedule anything until after the masque – with one exception.”
“What’s that?” Blaise asked.
“I want you to arrange for us to take Keri’s son to see a show at the theater,” Liv explained. “Work with Kaija, because I can guarantee she’s going to have something to say about how she wants it set up.”
Blaise nodded. “Is there anyone you’re actually willing to host here?” he asked. “It would go a long way toward gathering support if we could fill the dining room for breakfast a few days in a row.”
Liv considered for a moment. “The Corbetts,” she said, after a moment. Sidonie’s family retained their lands in Lucania, even though their daughter had essentially left the kingdom for Whitehill. “The Everys and the Ridleys. The Boyles and Banks,” she added, a moment later. “If Rosamund’s brother is in the capital, I wouldn’t mind meeting him. Cecily Falkenrath – I’ve only met her once, but she seemed nice enough, at the time, and her father is our nearest neighbour.”
“I can work with that.” Blaise carefully shuffled the un-sealed letters in his hands until he had them sorted into a neat stack, rather than an utter mess. “With your permission, then, Your Majesty, I’ll see if I can find your Captain of the Guard.”
Once the door had swung shut behind him, Miina interrupted the silence. “He’s too pretty for his own good,” Liv’s cousin remarked. “No man should be that handsome. It goes to their heads. Would you mind if I had a bit of fun with him?”
Liv opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Finally, she raised her hands, half clenched her fingers into fists, and winced. “Don’t – I don’t want to know. Just – don’t let me hear you through the walls. Take him to an inn, or something. We’ve got a child in the house.”
Miina laughed. “Your Lucanian upbringing is coming out today,” she teased.
☙
Dressing for the reception at the palace began two bells before they were due to leave.
For Liv, it was two bells of irritation and boredom, as Thora and Miina buzzed around her like bees in a mountain meadow. Nothing would do but that she should bathe all over again, though she’d had one bath after the morning practice down on the shore, and the romp through the waves with Rei which had followed.
Her hair must be combed out and oiled with a mixture of almond oil, beeswax, and lavender. Her face, washed with rosewater, and then painted with kohl about the eyes and rouge for the cheeks. Her eyebrows were needlessly, so far as Liv was concerned, plucked into elegant arches – which no one would see, anyway, given that the hairs were white. The nails of her fingers were polished and then painted a deep, dark blue to match the over-skirt and bodice of her gown.
That, at least, Liv could appreciate. She remembered very well being a little girl gazing into the dressmaker’s windows up on The Hill, and sighing over the fantasy of ever being able to wear something so beautiful. The trunks that Thora had packed to come to Freeport were stuffed with a full dozen gowns as grand as anything Duchess Julianne had ever worn, much of it made from Dakruim silk sent along from General Mishra, who seemed to have decided that the best way of maintaining friendly relations was to be certain she was buried in gifts.
For this evening, they had selected a gown with underskirts and arms of white silk, embroidered with silver thread. The bodice and overskirt were a blue so deep that it could have been mistaken for black, and here again the embroidery was of silver, forming images of northern animals, flowers in trees. Foxes cavorted down her back, wolves hunted across her skirts, and northern pines decorated her shoulders.
For jewelry, Liv wore her guild ring, which she hoped would be a clear enough signal to anyone watching, along with two pearl earrings from Coral Bay. The stormwand which had belonged to her adopted mother hung from a tooled leather belt, on her right hip. Finally, atop her brow, rested the silver crown of Celris.
“You really should wear more elegant shoes, m’lady,” Thora grumbled. While she never failed to address Liv properly in public, they were somewhat more lax in private.
“If you can find me enchanted slippers to take the place of my boots, I’ll consider it,” Liv told her. “In the meanwhile, I’m not giving up the advantage.”
By the time she’d made it down the stairs and into the foyer, Keri was waiting to escort her, and Liv was pleased to see that he’d put in the effort to look the part. He wore a long, closed coat in the same Elden style that she’d first seen on Ambassador Sakari, so many years before, but rather than gray, it was entirely of brilliant white, well fitted about the shoulders. Rather than silver, his embroidery was done with gold thread, which caught the candlelight from the chandelier and threw it back light flecks of sunshine on water. Anyone who had ever seen him fight would think immediately of those brilliant, blinding bars of burning light that he could throw out to scorch his enemies.
Liv reached out to accept his arm as she came to the bottom step. “Rei’s asleep?” she asked.
“He’s in his bed, at least,” Keri grumbled. “Pandit Sharma has volunteered to tell him a Dakruiman story about some sort of weasel that hunts venomous snakes.”
“He’ll probably have more fun than we will,” Liv pointed out, unable to keep from grinning. “Are we ready?” she asked Kaija.
“It’s quite the procession,” the former armorer explained. “We’re bringing ten guards, and leaving the other half here to protect the house. We’ll have Ghveris as well, and your cousin will apparently be accompanying Ambassador Blaise. They’ll be in a second carriage, to come just behind yours.”
“Someone moves quickly,” Liv observed, glancing back over her shoulder to her cousin and self-appointed lady-in-waiting.
“He may have mentioned earlier that he needed someone beside him tonight,” Miina said, with a shrug and a toss of her hair. “I thought I could do him a favor.”
“Anyway, between ten guards, the priest, and Master Grenfell, I’m not concerned about the house,” Kaija continued. “We’re more vulnerable while we’re moving through the city. I would have preferred to have Wren to keep an eye on us from above.”
Liv shook her head. “She has her own mission. In any case, Ghveris should make an impression, and I’ll be shielding the carriage again.”
Kaija threw the door open – her shoulder had healed up well, under Arjun’s care, and you could never tell from watching her that she’d had her arm in a sling over the summer. Outside, ten men and women in jack-of-plate waited on horseback, the butts of their polearms on their polished boots. Two would ride in front of the carriages, two behind, and three to either side. Ambassador Blaise waited at the step to the second carriage, while Ghveris stood near the first.
Liv gathered her skirts in one hand, accepted Keri’s help getting into the lead carriage, and settled herself in the seat that faced forward. She had just a glimpse of her cousin being helped into the rear carriage, and then Keri had climbed in with her and pulled the door shut. A moment later, they were rolling across the circular drive and out through the gates onto the cobblestone streets of Freeport.
It gave Liv a moment alone with Keri. “You understand that escorting me to this will send a signal,” she said, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the rattling of the wheels. “The Lucanian court reads meaning into this kind of thing.”
“Neither one of us is a subject of Lucania,” Keri reminded her. “I never was, and you certainly aren’t any more.”
“I just wanted to be certain that you don’t mind if people perceive us as courting,” Liv explained. “I’ve had piles and piles of invitations from all of Freeport’s second sons and lesser heirs. They may try to pick a fight with you, if they think it will get them something.”
“Are we?” Keri asked, flashing her a smile. “Courting?”
Liv had to make an active effort to meet his eyes, rather than look away. This isn’t the first time you’ve liked someone, she reminded herself. Still, both Cade and Rose had been the ones to pursue her: the only decision she’d had to make was whether to accept or reject them.
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted you to come with me,” she said, finally. “I thought it might give us a bit of time away from Whitehill. And if I have to sit through feasts at the palace, I want to have someone I enjoy spending time with beside me.”
“It’s an interesting way of doing things, courting,” Keri said, after a moment. “Not the way we do things in the north. Our matches are almost entirely arranged by our parents.”
“I’m not certain that’s working as well as the elders would like to think,” Liv remarked, and then couldn’t help but flinch. The last thing she wanted to do was to remind him of how his kwenim had left him.
Keri’s eyes flicked out the window. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But if we are courting, I understand it means I am permitted to do this.” Before Liv could quite grasp what was happening, he leaned across the carriage and kissed her.
This time, there was no one to interrupt them – until the carriage reached the palace.
Comments
fennek
Smooth, Keri :3
