Rise of the Storm

5 Gwynneth

Birkenhof Palace, Terragand

There was a soft knock on the library door as it opened.

"What is it, Edson?" Gwynneth put down her quill. She was writing a lengthy letter to a Galladian duke of her acquaintance, explaining the reasons for Terragand's dissatisfaction with Empress Teodora.

"I am very sorry to interrupt you, Your Grace," the footman said. "But it's the Duke of Emberg. He insists on seeing Count Faris at once. I told him the count was busy, but he won't be put off."

"Count Faris is always too busy to see the duke. Show him into the drawing room and I'll meet him there." The door closed again.

"You may as well copy what I have so far." Gwynneth handed the letter to her secretary, a slim bespectacled young man seated at a small desk in the corner. "I'll send the same thing to Sanova and Cesiano."

She turned to the window and watched the rain run down the glass and dull the bright green of the gardens. Then she looked at herself in a long, gilt-edged mirror, pushed a stray hair into place, smoothed her skirts, and turned to her ladies, waiting by the door. "Shall we go?"

Her heels tapped on the polished parquet of the long hallway as they made their way to the front of the palace. She glanced up at one of the portraits of Kendryk's ancestors hanging high on the walls. "I wonder if the duke is so ill-tempered because he and his son both got old Princess Lyonet's dreadful chin and ears?"

Linette giggled, but Avaron, who at thirty, fancied herself senior and more mature said, "The poor man. It's not nice to laugh. Bad enough about the looks, but that Kendryk got those and everything else must be terrible for him."

"Hush now," Gwynneth said at the drawing room door. She swept through as Avaron opened it and fixed an insincere smile on her face. "Uncle!" She put out both hands, forcing him to take them.

"Princess." He touched the tips of her fingers and bowed as briefly as protocol required.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm afraid you caught me quite unaware."

The duke straightened. "I only wished to speak to Count Faris for a moment."

"Oh, the count is out on business," Gwynneth said, although he was just down the corridor, toiling away in Kendryk's study. "Please, sit while I send for refreshments. Would you like a hot drink? Or maybe something stronger? Or both?" She nodded at Linette, who pulled the ornate bell rope before taking her place in the corner with Avaron.

"Nothing for me, thank you." The duke looked around, snorted, then sat on a tiny embroidered chair.

A maid bustled in.

"Tea, and those little honey cakes, if we still have them," Gwynneth ordered, then sank onto a dainty velvet settee, her skirts billowing around her. "I'm afraid Uncle, that Prince Kendryk is out as well. With the weather so dreadful though, I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Hmph." The duke scowled at the rain streaming down the windows. "I'd prefer to wait until Count Faris returns."

"It might be hours." Gwynneth pushed back her irritation. It could be impossible to get rid of the duke. "He told us not to wait for him for dinner, but of course, you're welcome to join us." She hoped he understood this was a polite lie. He was often oblivious to the niceties and far too literal.

The duke grunted something negative, and then the maid returned with tea. He waved her away, but Gwynneth took a cup and a tiny cake on a delicate little plate. She stabbed at it a few times with a dainty silver fork, then leaned back.

She smiled over her teacup. "Perhaps I can help you somehow?"

"I doubt it. Your husband has been making a mess of things. I was hoping to speak with a person of sense."

Gwynneth's smile disappeared. "You forget yourself, Uncle. Prince Kendryk is the final authority on all matters concerning Terragand." She smiled again, but less broadly. "I'm afraid I'm the only one here, so you might as well tell me your problem."

"The problem is that a dangerous revolutionary is at large, and Prince Kendryk refuses to stop him."

"Goodness! That's quite a story."

"It's no story," the duke snapped. "I saw him with my own eyes. He defended this man and refused to let me do my duty."

"He must have had good reason."

"What reason could he have? This man spoke openly against the Imperata and the Temple."

"Shocking."

"It certainly is." The duke was as immune to irony as ever. "Worse, this fellow is preaching heresy at the Runewald temple, and the people are swallowing it like the fools they are."

"I am surprised. I think we both know how Kendryk feels about heretics."

The duke nodded. "Yet here was this man, spewing his poison without shame, while Prince Kendryk refused to let me arrest him."

Gwynneth shrugged. "You may not approve, but he had the right to act as he did."

"I shall require an explanation!" A vein pulsed in his temple.

Gwynneth raised an eyebrow. "He does not need to explain himself to anyone, and especially not to you."

"The Temple is clear about how these types should be dealt with. The Maxima will hear of this."

"I'm sure she will. You know as well as I do that she has no authority over Kendryk. I'm afraid you must take this up with the Empress." She stood, so the duke had to stand as well. "And I suggest you take no action in that direction." She looked straight at him, unsmiling. "You may not like it, but Prince Kendryk is your sovereign lord and you must obey him. Your agreement isn't necessary."

The door opened and Edson appeared. "Edson, please show the duke out. Good day Uncle, I'll tell Count Faris you wished to speak with him."

The duke, too angry to speak, turned on his heel and stormed out. A second later, the front door slammed.