A Dove's Tale

Chapter 118

Something didn't feel right.

Chevalier and Clavis had left yesterday, Sariel was in a meeting with the other court ministers, and now Nokto was running late. He was supposed to accompany me to a tea party at a nearby manor. I'd never been to a social engagement outside of the palace without Chevalier or one of his brothers accompanying me, and the thought of going alone made me nervous. Not that I'd really be alone. My guards always came along, too, but they weren't much help in a conversation. And although Julius and Byron weren't fidgeting like the stable hands holding their horses or Charlie in the coach box, there was something about their stance that made me think they were on edge.

"Well, he'll just have to catch up," I decided. "We'll be late if we wait any longer."

"Princess Ivetta," Julius began, frowning.

"Does anybody know if Nokto had a date last night?" I asked, raising my voice so everybody in the courtyard could hear me. The guard stationed outside the servants' entrance cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"He did, your highness," he said.

Julius pursed his lips and opened the carriage door, offering me a hand up. He closed the carriage door behind me and walked over to the guard. I couldn't hear him, but I could guess what he was saying. Wake Nokto up and tell him to get moving, or Chevalier would hear about this when he got back. Of course, he'd hear about it, anyway. I knew Nokto wasn't coming along for company, or support with a difficult noblewoman. Chevalier didn't want me outside of the palace without extra protection. Julius would probably give Nokto an earful when he caught up to us.

The carriage ride was dull without a conversational partner. At least it was short.

"Princess Ivetta, I'm so glad you could make it."

I smiled and greeted the noblewoman politely. She wore an expression I knew well - fake sincerity, masking thinly veiled distaste. Her daughter was a few years older than me and, judging by the way her hard eyes scanned me up and down as she invited me inside, a much better candidate for marriage to Chevalier, in her opinion. Except her family wasn't prestigious enough or wealthy enough to have ever been up for serious consideration. But this was where Clavis' lessons from that mock social engagement came in handy. Smile, find something to compliment, and pretend I was enjoying myself. It really worked. Even if I didn't win anybody over, I always left with no regrets.

"Oh, what a lovely portrait," I said, stopping in front of a massive painting hanging in a place of prominence. "Is this your late husband?"

"He could only hope to be so handsome," she said, her smile taking on a fond aspect as she gazed at the severe-looking man in the picture. "No, this was my grandfather."

There was an Obsidianite crest in the background. Most of the expatriated Obsidianite families scattered throughout Rhodolite did their best to hide their past, and Sariel hadn't mentioned this family's connection to Obsidian. The vague sense of unease I'd felt since we left the palace grew.

"My mother came from Obsidian, too," I said, glancing over my shoulder to verify Julius and Byron were still right behind me. "I asked Yves to look into my family while he was visiting Gilbert a few weeks ago, but he couldn't find anything about them. Do you still have any family there?"

I'd hit on the right topic. She talked animatedly about her family history and their former importance among the Obsidianite nobility, and I smiled and followed her to the veranda, where servants were waiting with tea and a variety of pastries. Maybe I was wrong about her. An Obsidianite bloodline had been just cause for hatred and discrimination until recently in Rhodolite, and opinions were slow to change. And even if something was amiss, Sariel had only allotted an hour for this. I sat across from her on the settee, and she poured me a cup of tea, interrupting herself long enough to ask me about cream and sugar. To listen to her go on and on, you'd think her family used to tell the king of Obsidian what to do.