Xavier: A Cinderella Story
Chapter Twenty-Nine

“But isn’t it true that he left express instructions with at least one of you to notify him if any of his close friends or associations paid him a visit?” I asked, tapping my foot impatiently. The sound of my glass shoe banging out a rhythm on the flagstone was clearly annoying enough to spur the guard into action.

“My Lady, he’s with the Sillian heir, and we can’t let just anyone over to see them,” the guard explained. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Then would you like to carry a message to him, to verify my words?” I asked.

The guards frowned, clearly thinking, before turning to regard one another. I fiddled with the buttons on my cuffs. It had been long since I’d worn any of my mother’s gowns; if I were to wear any of them to the masquerades, Henri and Caramella would recognize them instantly. Though Caramella had never been able to wear them herself, owing to her far slighter frame, she had been adamant that I shouldn’t be allowed to wear them either, and so all of my mother’s belongings had been locked in the attic for some time. Occasionally, Caramella would wear a piece of my mother’s jewelry, but when I stopped reacting violently to such displays, her interest in my mother’s things gradually waned.

“I’ll take a message for you, Lady,” the one on the right said.

“Tell the Prince that Adri is here to see him,” I instructed.

“That’s all?” the man asked.

“If I’m telling the truth to you, and I truly am a friend of the Prince’s, would I need to concoct an elaborate message to entice him to come greet me?” I asked, raising a brow.

The guard stammered, bowed, and took his leave, striding off towards the gardens purposefully. I sighed, taking out my fan and trying to move some air around. It was a stagnant day in mid-July, and while I certainly didn’t miss my servant’s attire, there were certain advantages to wearing threadbare clothing. I sighed again, smoothing a hand over the bodice of my dress and adjusting the way my pendant hung about my neck. I was fidgeting to be sure; seeing Zach again after long absences always seemed to fray my nerves.

“Lady Adri, is it?” the guard who had stayed with me asked speculatively.

“Yes,” I answered, fanning myself a bit more vigorously.

“You’re a . . . friend of the Prince’s?” he asked.

“I’ll pretend to pointedly ignore what you’re implying,” I retorted. “Really though, what would possess you to make an outright insinuation to a stranger?”

“You’ve got dark hair, like the girl he spends all of his time with at the balls. I’ve heard rumors that he’s concocted some noble identity for you, to hide the fact that you’ve got a reputation.”

“Oh, I’m aware that I have a reputation,” I sighed, unable to keep the amused smirk from my face. “Whether or not I deserve the one I have is another matter entirely. Really, I’m almost impressed at the gall you have to insult a guest of the Prince.”

“All of the women who come looking for him tell me that,” he said, bored. I couldn’t help but admire the guard’s bold statement. If he treated all of Prince’s admirers the way he was treating me, then . . .

“Have you ever encountered a simpering blonde by the name of Caramella?” I asked.

He glanced at me sideways through narrowed eyes. “What makes you ask that?”

“She and I have a shared history of mutual dislike. I can only imagine that, if treated thus, she must have put on a scene to rival the greatest dramas ever performed. While we’re waiting, I’d be ever-so-grateful if you’d tell me about it.”

The guard appeared somewhat amused. “She came here a few weeks past, claiming to be the Prince’s intended betrothed, and demanded an audience with the King and Queen.”

“She didn’t,” I said, stifling a giggle.

“Would I lie to you, My Lady?” he asked, one brow inching upwards into his helmet.

“I hope not,” I snorted. “Was she denied the audience?”

“By the King and Queen? No – it didn’t get that far. The captain of the guard was on duty at the time, and decided that she was suffering from some kind of derangement or hysteria – she seemed awfully upset about something. He thought she’d be a danger to our Lieges, so we just turned her away.”

“And she . . . ?”

“Threw a fit, just like you said. Her tantrum competes with the ones my six-year-old likes to throw when my wife denies her dessert.”

“Well, I can promise you that I’m not a vase-throwing, foot-stomping, hair-pulling harpy, at least,” I smirked.

“I can never tell, with women,” he muttered. “Either way, the Prince is taking his time. I might have to ask you to leave.”

The first guard emerged from the garden at his words, looking over his shoulder nervously.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I said.

“My Lady, my partner has returned without the Prince. Perhaps yours is an audience he does not with to have at the present point in time. If you’d please come with me . . .”

The guard was interrupted by the crackle of brush coming from the direction of the garden. Zach burst through the entrance, easily overtaking the first guard in a sprint. I grinned, shooting a sideways ‘I-told-you-so’ glance at the guard before Zach reached me, picked me up, and spun me around several times. I laughed, giddy with delight.

“You came,” he beamed, finally setting me down. “I’m so glad. I was afraid you’d be unable to get away.” He cupped my face in his hands, breath still coming a bit shallow from his run.

“Always dramatics with you, is it?” I teased.

“I’ve missed you,” he said by way of reply, and, without regard for the two guards looking on in astonishment, kissed me soundly.

“I missed you as well,” I said when he finally released me, holding me at arm’s length to get a good look at me. “How is your mother?”

He sighed. “Better, at least. She has a rattling cough that has all of us quite frightened, but at least she’s no longer delirious with the fever.”

“I’m glad. Now don’t you go and catch anything from her, alright?” I warned.

He smiled slightly. “I’ll try not to, but let’s not speak more of this. Talk of illness has surrounded me of late, and I’d like to avoid it.” He glanced up, noticing that the two guards were watching us with no attempt to veil their interest. “Thank you for notifying me of Lady Adri’s arrival,” he said. I was unable to keep the smirk off of my face as he took me by the arm, turned me, and led me back towards the gardens.

“How long do you have?” I asked.

“You mean, before I must return to conferences? Not much time, I’m afraid. I’m sorry Adri – you’ll have come a long way for little.’

“Don’t say that,” I admonished him. “I’m glad I got the chance to see you.”

“I’m glad you came, even if I’ll only be able to speak to you for a short while. You look beautiful, by the way,” he murmured. “Your mother’s?”

“The dress? Yes. Thank you.”

“How have things been at home? You alluded to Magnus’ presence. I hope he hasn’t been harassing you any,” Zach frowned.

I sighed. “Not any more than usual,” I said, not a lie in its entirety. “He and Henri have been hashing out a business deal.”

“I remember that – about chattel. My inquiries following your letter were what led me to find a very faint paper trail in the royal records on such a trade being conducted. Most ministers of commerce have decided to look the other way based on the amount of wealth it has brought to Erikya, and also because so many of our elite have dipped their hands into that pot at some point during their careers.”

“It’s despicable,” I murmured.

“On moral and political grounds. Clearly these men are not moral creatures and therefore have no qualms about selling a human being to the Yoman for God knows what purpose. Still though, if that weren’t enough of an issue, they are committing high treason by doing so.”

“A hanging offence,” I added.

“It was listed as one during my great-grandfather’s time,” Zach frowned. “It is my responsibility to do something about this.”

I winced. “Zach, I agree wholeheartedly with your intentions, but if you come directly after Magnus and Henri . . .”

He stopped walking for a moment, turning to regard me closely. “They know you’ve heard them speak about it.”

I sighed, shutting my eyes. “My silence on the issue is . . . imperative.”

“Yet you told me anyway.”

“Before I knew what the consequences would be if I slipped up.”

“I could have them arrested before they knew what was occurring.”

“And, if I remember correctly, they have the right to live as free men until trial by jury – a law also made in your great-grandfather’s time. What do you suppose they will do with that time? They have powerful and brutal contacts, and I for one would not like to witness the lengths to which they would go to remain undiscovered. Zach, you can’t bring them down without being ready to bring down the trade in its entirety,” I said.

“What did they threaten you with?” he asked, narrowing his eyes shrewdly at me.

I shrugged. “The usual.” It wasn’t, of course, the usual, but that would be a good enough answer for the time being.

He remained perfectly still for a few moments before turning and pulling me into his arms, holding me tightly to his chest. I shut my eyes and held on; I’d needed this simple comfort more than I could possibly have expressed.

“We’ll find a way to fix this,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head.

“You said ‘we’,” I marveled, looking up at him.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“It’s the first time you haven’t offered to pull me out yourself,” I clarified.

“Adri,” he sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you’re one of the most capable people I know. You’re clever, well-learned, and brave. You’ll do what you need to do to secure your own safety, and then the both of us will be in the position to avenge all of the wrongs that have been done to you.”

“I hope you’re right,” I answered.

“Zach, is that you? I thought I heard your voice. Are you running from our game?” a voice called in Sillic, approaching the place we had stopped.

“I’m coming, Ignado. I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Zach answered, smirking at me as I nodded in approval. His accent had improved, at least. He had forgotten a few articles, but was at least intelligible.

“Oh, and who’s—”

We turned the corner at the same time as the Sillian prince, nearly bumping into him. He was shorter than Zach – only a few inches taller than I – with bronzed skin, black eyes, and jet-black hair pulled back into a long braid. I recognized his clothing readily; the rich reds with golden embroidery were the colors worn by the Sillian monarchy. He narrowed his eyes, giving me an appraising look before turning towards Zach and saying,

“Well done, brother.”

“Ignado—”

“What eyes she has. If I wasn’t sure you’d kill me for the effort, I’d try to steal her from you. Does she have a sister?”

“Not one you’d want to meet,” I cut in wryly, a grin pulling at my lips when Ignado jumped in surprise. After looking at me in shock for a moment, his features melted back into their perpetual charming grin.

“She speaks better than you, Zach,” he laughed.

Zach sighed. “Yes, I’m aware of that.” Ignado and I looked at one another and snickered. Zach turned to me and asked in Erikyan, “did I conjugate that wrong?”

I fought my grin and answered, “technically, yes – the verb describing awareness shouldn’t be conjugated in the progressive tense, even though the rest of the structure of the sentence leads one to that conclusion.”

“Of course,” he sighed.

“You should come to Sillia some time, Lady Adrianna. I’m sure you’d enjoy how cultured our court is.”

“As opposed to the Erikyan court?” I asked.

“Of course. They’re quite . . . reactionary, wouldn’t you say?” he replied, gesturing towards the castle with one hand. “And,” he added, learning forward conspiratorially, “Sillian men know how to treat a woman.”

I laughed. Zach looked affronted, and pulled me closer.

“Ignado, stop needling our host,” said a composed voice from behind the Sillian prince. Ignado stepped aside, sparing a grin for Zach and I, before gesturing towards a couple who could only have been Ismeralda and Diego.

“May I present my sister, Princess Ismeralda, and her betrothed, Lord Diego?” Ignado asked.

“It’s a pleasure,” I said, curtseying. Ismeralda and Diego stood and approached us. I noted that Ismeralda was nearly a spitting image of her brother, but in feminine form, while Diego was taller and darker skinned.

“Likewise. You must be Lady Adrianna, of whom I’ve heard much,” Ismeralda said, a conspiratorial smile matching her words.

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good things, I hope.”

“Only good things,” Ismeralda said, taking me by the arm and leading me back towards the stone bench where she and Diego had been sitting. Under her breath, she murmured, “and I’ll confess, I’m glad for it. Zach has seemed far more interested in the idea of becoming King since meeting you, and while I’m fond of Duke Elias, I would rather not spend weeks immersed in trade negotiations with him.”

“He’s a character, isn’t he?” I asked dryly.

“He’s like Ignado – stubborn, arrogant, and mulish – but without any of the charm that my brother has.”

“And you count me responsible for Zach’s sudden interest in kingship?” I wondered.

“If you ask me, Zach was always more wary of filial responsibility than political responsibility. To be King you must make heirs, and to Zach, a family was no more than a cage. I think he sees it a bit differently now,” she answered, looking at me speculatively.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“Simply this: he always viewed political marriage as a painful compromise. He advised me against it, spouting off verses from Ermain de Sil’s works in perfect Sillic as his reasons. You are not a compromise to him, and so his greatest qualms regarding kingship have begun to resolve themselves.”

“You’ve paid me a great compliment,” I murmured.

She smiled. “Enough heavy talk though. Zach claims you’ll roust us all in tiles. Have you ever played before?” She had raised her voice loudly enough to draw the attention of the three men, who were standing a bit away from us, clearly deeply in conversation.

“No, I haven’t,” I admitted. “Zach said you needed four, though – aren’t there four of you?”

“They don’t let me play,” Diego sighed, coming to sit next to his betrothed.

“He’s the most pathetic excuse for a tiles player we’ve ever seen,” Ignado said, rolling his eyes. “Even Zach can beat him.”

Zach spluttered, letting out a string of incomprehensible Sillic in response.

“One of our ministers of foreign economics plays with us sometimes, but he tends to have less time for games than we do. I believe he’s in a conference as we speak,” Ismeralda said.

“That’s right,” Zach mused, “I’d forgotten about Rique. Best tiles player I’ve met, and would you know, an Erikyan ex-pat?” he smirked at Ignado.

“I contest the fact that Rique is the best tiles player in the Sillian court,” Ignado huffed, puffing out his chest. “When he first arrived, he hardly knew the value of a double six.”

“You mean, brother, when his Sillic was still a bit hazy, and he couldn’t understand what we were saying? Because if I remember correctly, that’s the last time you beat him,” Ismeralda teased.

“Who is this Rique?” I asked.

“He defected across the border to Sillia about five years ago. He was a nobleman here, though he wouldn’t tell me what his name used to be. His knowledge of Erikyan politics and economics has been invaluable in aiding the creation of viable trade agreements,” Zach explained, switching back to Erikyan.

“And he just revealed himself as an Erikayan ex-patriot to his former country’s crown prince? Doesn’t he realize that such a thing is a hanging offence, particularly now that he’s voluntarily back on Erikyan soil?” I asked.

“He’s protected under my name,” Ismeralda said. “Besides, we couldn’t keep Zach from seeing him. Rique is an integral part of all of our conferences. In a room full of Sillians, however, he’s a bit like Zach.”

“Like Zach?” I asked.

“He stands out,” Diego completed.

“He looks about as much like a Sillian as Caramella does,” Zach said with a wry grin. “That said, he refuses to speak to me in Erikyan, citing that I need to practice.”

“You poor man,” I grinned, patting his arm.

“I really do suffer an incredible amount of disrespect and insubordination,” he smiled. As soon as he had spoken, the clock chimed noon. Ismeralda and Ignado looked at one another in dismay.

“I assume that means it’s time for you to get back to your conference,” I said wryly, feeling Zach’s hand tighten upon my forearm.

“Unfortunately,” Ignado muttered under his breath.

“Zach, why don’t you take the time to escort Lady Adrianna out? I’m sure the committee will excuse tardiness, given the circumstances,” Ismeralda added.

“Of course,” Zach said, brightening visibly at the suggestion. “Come Adri, I’ll show you back to the stables.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” I said, taking the hands of Ismeralda, Diego, and Ignado one by one.

“Likewise – and please, remember what I’ve said,” Ismeralda said, leaning in and kissing me on each cheek.

“Don’t underestimate how indebted I am to you for finally relieving me of my duty of playing tiles with these three,” Diego added. We shared a smile.

“I’ll avenge your honor, Lord Diego – I have quite a competitive spirit,” I answered.

“All the more reason why you should defect to Sillia,” Ignado spoke up, earning another elbow in the ribs from his sister.

“Perhaps I’ll consider it once Zach’s Sillic has improved enough that he can come visit me without getting into more fistfights,” I quipped. Zach snorted.

“Well then fair lady, I suppose that day will never come,” Ignado replied. We laughed.

“Will you come visit again?” Ismeralda asked.

“As soon as I’m able,” I replied. “Until then.”

“Yes, until then. Come now, we must be going,” she said.

Zach took me by the arm and swept me out of the garden; we walked on a familiar path back towards the stables. “Charmer,” he muttered once we were out of earshot.

“Somehow I don’t think I’m the right person to level that accusation at,” I smirked. “Your jealousy, by the way, is adorable but misplaced. Despite the horrible accent, I find myself more inclined towards princes of the Erikyan variety.”

“A relief, that,” Zach smiled. I glanced up at him contentedly, basking in his presence. After a few moments, I watched his features pull into a concerned frown.

“What is it?” I asked, following his gaze to see a figure on the far end of the patio limping in our direction, steps aided by the use of a cane. Closer inspection of this person allowed me to note the expensive tailoring of the breeches and the simple white tunic; the lack of any waistcoat was likely due to the sling wrapped around the man’s left arm.

“I wrote to you that Elias was at the border, did I not?” Zach murmured.

“That’s Elias?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. The disheveled, unkempt man in front of us certainly resembled the Duke in many ways, but I wouldn’t have realized it until I was nearly on top of him.

Zach frowned. “He ran into some difficulties while on patrol. He still won’t tell me exactly what happened. I know the injuries he sustained were from being rolled by his horse during a particularly vicious battle. Still, there must be something more to it than that.”

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

Zach shrugged. “You remember what Elias was like – you’ll see the change in behavior. I saw ghastly things at the border. I can only imagine what he experienced to trouble him so.”

“Cousin,” Elias acknowledged as we approached him. His hair was uncut, sticking to his forehead with perspiration. Beneath his eyes were dark circles, belying many sleepless nights. It looked as though he had been sleeping in the same clothing for several days on end; they were wrinkled, and his right knee bore a long grass stain.

“Elias, how do you fare?” Zach asked.

“As ever,” Elias snapped, eyes flickering over to regard me. “This that girl of yours, the supposed sister of Geoffria?”

“My Lord,” I said, curtseying.

He snorted. “Clever ruse.”

As I was opening my mouth to reply, the Duke’s manservant strode out onto the patio, effectively interrupting our conversation. As he whispered a message into Elias’ ear, Zach bent to murmur,

“He’s been like this since he was sent home.”

“Because of his injuries?”

“Ostensibly,” Zach shrugged.

“Perhaps he resents being removed from the border.”

Zach shook his head. “That’s not the heart of it. I spoke to Sir Bernard, though; he believes it may have had something to do with the prisoners that the company took during Elias’ time.”

“What about them?”

“With the Yoman, we are instructed to take prisoners merely for the sake of interrogation. Yoman are not to be left alive, nor are they to be released and sent back to their people. Those who we capture, we kill.”

“You think he had to do the interrogation?” I asked.

“I think he may have had to do the execution.”

I shuddered. “That’s awful. But why would they designate such a horrid task to him? Wouldn’t that be left to a lower ranking soldier?”

“Usually. I suspect his attitude may have gotten him in trouble.”

“Non-verbal punishment, then?” I suggested.

“Of a sort. It certainly threw him for a loop. I never imagined I’d see him like this,” Zach sighed.

Elias’ manservant bowed and strode off, leaving Elias leaning heavily on his cane. He glanced back and forth between Zach and I, before saying,

“Weren’t you called to a meeting ten minutes ago?”

“I was escorting Lady Adri to the stables, so that she could take her leave,” Zach replied.

“I’ll do it. You have duties to attend to,” Elias said brusquely. It took all of my willpower not to flinch at the suggestion. Zach, knowing that he could hardly refuse his cousin’s offer, nodded.

“Alright. Adri, I’ll see you soon?” he asked, turning towards me.

“I certainly hope so,” I answered. He brought my hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss across my knuckles. I frowned, feeling cheated by Elias’ presence.

“Until then,” he murmured. “Elias,” he added, inclining his head before turning and striding off. The moment he was out of earshot, Elias turned to me, regarding me with tired eyes.

“I’d rather you stayed away from my cousin,” he said. “You’re hardly good for him.”

“My Lord, I—”

“Yes, I know who you say you are,” he said, gesturing with his cane. “But I’m perceptive enough to know exactly what you are.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“There are plenty of men out there with money and connections who aren’t the Crown Prince of Erikya. While I’m sure the idea of being a courtesan to such a powerful man must be appealing to a woman like yourself, I’d like to remind you that you have a duty as an Erikyan subject – however debased you are – to not stand in the way of his future kingship,” Elias said.

I frowned. “You’re certain, then, that I’m warming his bed and therefore creating illegitimate heirs which will contest his future sons’ claims to the throne. What a charitable assumption you’ve made. And may I ask how you’ve come by it?” I snapped.

“You refuse to unmask yourself or give a proper name at the masquerades. Despite being the object of my cousin’s affections, you also neglect to make an appearance at any society function that would leave you unmasked as you are now.”

“And you’ve decided that this makes me a prostitute,” I mused.

“Magnus has told me as such. While he’s hardly my idea of a reliable source of information, twisted man that he is, it certainly is an apt conclusion.”

“Count Magnus will say whatever he needs to further his own ends. He’s lying to you,” I retorted.

“He could only be lying if he knew your real name, and disparaged your virtue to either blemish it or hide it,” Elias countered. “I’ve half a mind to have you reported to the proper authorities. I’m sure the new Archbishop, progressive though he’s proven to be, would hardly look kindly upon your intentions.”

“My intentions regarding Zach are far from questionable. I may not be his wisest choice of a friend or companion, but I love him, and would never do anything to endanger him,” I said vehemently, holding Elias’ gaze.

Elias paused for a moment, returning my stare in silence. After a few moments, he spoke. “I remember vividly the last time I heard someone speak of my cousin so while in my presence. I must have been blind to have missed the connection.” He paused for a moment, scrutinizing me. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? You’re in the employ of Count Henri.”

“I am,” I said, feeling my heart pick up speed. The last time someone had looked at me so thoughtfully, I had been in the library with Zach many months ago.

“You bear a striking resemblance to the late Countess.”

“So I’ve been told,” I countered.

“You call yourself Adri.”

“I do.”

“Adri, as in, Adrianna,” he completed, taking a few limping steps towards me. “Adrianna as in Daniella’s daughter. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’m aware. The tale, however, is quite protracted. I certainly am not a servant by choice. Unfortunately, my situation has not quite amended itself as of yet.”

“My cousin—”

“I promise you, I’m not in the market for his charity, despite how eager he seems to give it,” I sighed.

“He knows your identity, clearly, for only he could have concocted such a story.” He paused, looking at me thoughtfully once again, one hand scratching at his unshaven chin. “I confess I pegged you wrongfully. I thought you a common hussy, and sought to escort you for the sake of reprimanding you – after all, your association with Count Magnus, coupled with his claims – were quite compelling evidence.”

“Though I certainly am not currently in an employ befitting of a Countess, I can promise you that my association with that filthy man is entirely born out of his impositions.”

Elias let out a surprised bark of laughter. “Zachariah and I both protested his instatement,” he said. “Magnus is an immoral creature. They say, you know, that he has associations with the Yoman. Did you know that he doesn’t even attend church Sunday mornings?”

“Lack of church attendance is hardly the gravest of his crimes. I will not judge another by where they find themselves on Sunday mornings.”

“Countess—” Elias began, scandalized.

“Hear me out, Duke Elias. I will not judge one by the attention they pay to sermons simply because I know too many abhorrent individuals who do so. Church or no church, our God wishes to see in us two important things: kindness and goodwill towards other men. I’ll not judge others poorly unless they fail to live by those edicts.”

Elias inclined his head. “Fairly put – there are some snakes who infest our pews every Sunday. It would be blasphemy, however, to claim that one who does not attend sermons could be judged favorably.”

I shrugged. “I beg to differ, of course. I have made the acquaintance of many a good Erikyan servant whose duties preclude them from being able to attend Sunday services. I would sooner call any of them ‘brother’ than spend an hour in Magnus’ company.”

Elias frowned. “Is that so?”

“That is my judgment,” I shrugged.

“Now that I think on it, I realize I have not seen you attend services since the death of your mother. I doubtlessly would have recognized you, just as my cousin did, just as I did now. I’ll admit this much, Countess: I’m not quite sure what to make of you.”

“What, you would not call me a heretic and have me adequately punished for my transgressions?” I asked wryly.

“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t hesitate to do so. You have, after all, made some outrageous claims. To be perfectly honest though, I don’t intend on denouncing your name for two reasons. First, my cousin seems to have a genuine fondness for you that is in character quite unlike that which I have witnessed him posses for any other woman. Now I see that you are not the kind of strumpet with whom he insists on sullying his reputation. Indeed, his discretion with you and his contentious behavior towards your honor gives me a great deal of pause. Clearly, he thinks highly enough of you to treat you differently than any other noblewoman he has ever encountered. My cousin is not always sound in judgment, but I’m inclined to trust him in this. Second, the newly-made Archbishop seems to take a more lenient policy towards sin. The doctors say the late Archbishop was senile at the point of his passing, and I wonder whether or not this new doctrine is a holier one to follow.”

“Oh?” I asked. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been privy to knowledge regarding the appointment.”

“It was a strange choice by the council, to be sure – the man was born into the peasantry, after all – but I suppose times are changing. Certainly within the church they are.”

“Born into the peasantry?” I echoed.

“Quite,” he shrugged. “They say he is a pious man, although his sermons have been far more . . . conciliatory than I could have ever imagined.”

“You mean that he speaks of redemption instead of punishment,” I clarified.

“What is it they say?” Elias asked wryly. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone?”

“And you agree with the new Archbishop’s philosophy? Truly, I had pegged you as someone a bit more . . . reactionary.”

He frowned slightly. “I would have called you a strumpet and condemned you to an undeserved life of servitude all while courting your apparently avaricious stepsister. Clearly, I am in no position to throw any pebbles your way.”

“Has this simple revelation on your part completely changed your mind regarding both Caramella and my relationship with your cousin?” I asked.

“Of course,” Elias said, leaning heavily on his cane. “Knowing now that you are Countess Adrianna relieves me of my worries regarding my cousin’s claims to the throne. You are not prohibited from courting royalty, and therefore his fondness for you will neither beget illegitimate heirs, nor will it tempt him to abdicate his post.”

“Yet, wouldn’t that be advantageous for you?” I wondered.

His eyes flashed. “Do not make the mistake of assuming I would betray my dearly loved cousin for personal profit. I have a high enough station without coveting the power of others. That would be terribly unchristian of me.”

“My apologies,” I said. Zach would be pleased to know that his hopes regarding Elias’ loyalties were not ill-founded.

“Accepted,” he said curtly. “As for your step-sister, clearly I was taken for a fool, and that angers me even further. Not only has she unlawfully usurped your title and forced you into a station unbefitting of your blood, but she takes on the role of a deceiver, and plays at being a highly moral creature. Words cannot express my disgust with her.”

“Betrayal always feels like that,” I said wryly.

“I suppose you’ve seen your fair share of it,” he said, falling silent and staring past me. We stood like that on the patio, silent and unmoving, for several minutes. Again, it was Elias who broke the silence, looking back at me abruptly. “Your mother hated me, you know,” he admitted.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said.

“I think I can see why,” he continued. “Perhaps it’s because I’ve changed a bit, coming back from the borderlands. I saw what it did to Zachariah, and perhaps foolishly believed that I would return unscathed.”

“And what did the experience do to you?” I asked.

He was silent, clearly trying to formulate a way to put his thoughts into words. “It showed me, I think,” he said slowly, “that as entirely ideal my conception of God and nature and the order of society was, it had no place in battle, and no place in the peasant-villages we visited in the northern provinces. There’s something messy and immediate about life there that made my principles utterly useless.” He shook his head. “It is still difficult to speak of. It came as a bit of a shock.”

“I’d imagine so,” I murmured.

“I left a perfectly ordered society, and came back to find a confused one, where all are equally steeped in sin and in goodness.”

“Maybe it’s your perception that’s changed, and not the place you came from,” I suggested. He turned sad eyes upon me.

“I have changed – yes, that much is true. Perhaps that’s why I find no stones to cast your way. Still, I know not what to make of you now, when before it was so easy to dismiss you. Countess, you’re intentionally living a life you weren’t meant for, you’ve refused my cousin’s offers to reinstate the order of things, you neglect to attend services, and to be honest, your virtue is more than a little questionable. Taking the Good Book word-by-word, you are condemned, perhaps even evil. By those standards, however, I too am now placed right beside you. You may be a heretic, but I have killed a man.”

“I thought the Yoman were demon devil-worshippers, from descriptions I’ve heard come from your very mouth.”

He frowned at me. “God has endeavored to show me the error of my words. They were all men, no more, no less, simply fighting on a different side.”

“I never would have expected to hear such a change of heart from you,” I admitted.

“I forget that I met you under interesting circumstances, that day at the lake.”

“And is my hair still filthy with sin, due to some connection with demons of old?” I asked, knowing that I was pushing too hard but unable to stop myself.

Elias looked weary at my words; he pushed a handful of stringy blonde hair off of his forehead and rubbed at the dark circles beneath his eyes. “I do not wish to speak of this. I’ve had too many challenges to my faith in four weeks to debate the veracity of my former words.”

“Then you doubt them,” I pressed.

He turned to regard me. “Yes I doubt them, and do you see the anxiety under which this puts my very soul? If the Yoman are not demons – something I thought was a surety – then perhaps Francis Xavier was not one either. Perhaps we need no great force of evil to come up from the underworld to injure us. Perhaps, as men, we are good enough at injuring ourselves to not require the devil’s aid.”

“And so?” I asked.

“And so, my life has been a string of lies, and I have done people wrong all based on the color of their hair.” He laughed mirthlessly. “What kind of a man does that make me?”

“A better one, perhaps, for knowing where you erred.”

“The doctrine of forgiveness of sins, again – and this time from a borderline heretic. Truly, you are of a holier sort than some churchgoing men in my acquaintance, and it is difficult for me to fathom how that is possible.”

“And so now you believe that Xaviandrians were no more than men. Heretical men perhaps, but men nonetheless.”

“Why does it matter?” he asked. “They’re long dead. But if I ever were to have to confront one of them . . . I suppose I would have a lot of thinking to do.”

“And so if Xaviandrians and the Yoman are no more than men, then what does that make me?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You have broken all of society’s rules, certainly, by allowing yourself to be subjected to such a slight of your given caste. You have moral thoughts, however, and are of noble blood. You love my cousin, even if your current association with him is doing terrible damage to both of your reputations. But again, I do not think myself a monster, and yet I have committed a far graver sin. I don’t know what that makes either of us.”

“Is that why you aren’t sleeping or eating?” I asked, taking in his appearance.

“Knowing that I am a sinner? Lady, I have always known that.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Knowing that all this time, you have believed and preached a simplification of the truth, and condemned those who perhaps didn’t deserve it.”

He gave me a weary glance. “You put it quite succinctly, you know. I have lied unknowingly and judged swiftly all my life, and I can see now why your mother hated me so.”

“Better to correct it, to come to know the world better, than to live a life of thoughtless ignorance,” I said.

He sighed. “Perhaps.”

“It’s hard, and it hurts,” I prompted.

He looked at me sharply. “It does.”

“That doesn’t make it the wrong thing to do.”

“Did your mother’s words make you so wise, Countess?” he asked.

“Life did, I think, but my mother certainly helped. Whatever she thought of you during her life time, I think she likes you a bit better now. I know I certainly do,” I admitted.

“That’s kind of you to say,” he said, not a real statement of thanks, but close enough for a man like Duke Elias.

“I must go soon,” I said.

“Of course – I have forgotten my duties as escort. Allow me to walk you to the stables. That is where your carriage is?”

I snorted. He raised a brow at the undignified sound. “Didn’t we just discuss my placement in the kitchens?” I asked.

He frowned. “You rode?”

“My other option being what, exactly – walking?”

His frown deepened. “I have never understood what compelled my cousin to find sarcasm an attractive trait.”

“Was that a criticism, a comment, or a suggestion?” I asked.

A shadow of a smile tugged at his lips as we began the short walk to the stables. “Call it a comment, Countess. I’m sure you’ll find that interpretation to be far less contentious than the other two.”

“Well put,” I said, amused.

We walked in silence for a few moments before he turned back to me. “Tell me truly Countess, though I confess I doubt you’d ever withhold veracity for the sake of tact, what did you think of the late Archbishop?”

“Isn’t it blasphemous to even ask such a question?” I asked.

“What did you think of him?” Elias repeated, hobbling over the uneven flagstones.

“I think the highest compliment I can muster is my agreement that his sermons were probably written by senility.”

Elias nodded slowly, weighing my words. “He was my mentor, when I was a child.”

“Forgive me,” I said flatly.

“Insincerity is almost worse than the initial insult,” Elias chastised.

“I think he was a poor mentor, if you’re asking for my opinion,” I amended.

Elias paused again, limping through the entrance to the stables. “You should think about attending mass next Sunday.”

“Recruiting?” I asked.

“Perhaps. I think you’ll find the new Archbishop more to your liking. I know Zachariah does.”

“Is he more to your liking?”

Elias sighed, stopping as I came upon my horse. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Perhaps you’ll have your mind made up by the next time I see you,” I said.

“Perhaps,” Elias allowed.

“One more thing, before I go – you mustn’t tell anyone that I’m still alive,” I said, wincing as the words came out of my mouth.

“Countess—”

I sighed. “I had this conversation with your cousin. If it makes you feel any better, the Sillian heir has taken my side on the matter. I fully intend on reinstating myself. Now please, just leave the subject of my servitude be, and think upon other things.”

“It bothers me, that now you’ll away to the kitchens.”

“That makes both of us – but I have my reasons for refusing aid,” I said.

“It’s simply a disgusting treatment of a woman from the noble classes,” he sniffed. “I can hardly believe that your stepfamily would do such a thing. Clearly my association with them must be terminated.”

“Caramella will be deeply grieved,” I smirked.

“Perhaps, but I find her behavior appalling, nonetheless. Indeed, I cannot believe that you would submit to such treatment when the possibility of escape is readily offered to you.”

“I’ll not be rescued by another. I can get myself out of this situation just fine, without looking to a powerful Prince to come and save me.”

“Surely Zachariah wouldn’t mind.”

I sighed. “I don’t think you understand—”

“I don’t think we understand each other. On my life, I could not imagine consorting with cooks and chambermaids. You, on the other hand, could not imagine going to church and giving confession of your petty sins.”

“Perhaps neither of us is right. Have you ever thought of that?” I asked.

He made a face. “Perhaps. But it would still be socially irresponsible for me to encourage your behavior.”

“Cavorting with members of the lower class, you mean? Isn’t the beloved new Archbishop, the one who preaches tolerance and forgiveness, a former member of the peasantry?”

Elias opened and shut his mouth a few times. “Hence the controversy,” he finally managed. “Allow me to assist you in mounting your—”

I cut him off by simply doing it myself. Zach was right: he was a little prig, but there was something good emerging from all of that pomp and religiosity. As I rode back towards the manor, the wheels in my head began to spin. All at once before me I saw a second viable way out of my dilemma – if only I could craft it in time.