“You’ve always known the rules, Caiden. You just choose not to follow them.”
They stared at each other, the thread of tension between them practically visible. Talia gripped her teacup unnecessarily tight.
Once more she found Blaive’s green eyes fixed on her face. “But enough of my history, Miss Dahl-Saida. Tell me yours. I understand we are far from equals in regard to rank, but you need not be timid on that account.”
Wen rose half out of his chair at that, and she could see Caiden scowling out of the corner of her eye.
But Talia just stared impassively back at Blaive, not showing that the jibe rankled her. “I’m from Enduena,” she said, measuring each word. “I was banished to Ryn for the crime of being the Emperor’s daughter, which puts me in precisely the same social sphere as the current Empress. But don’t worry, Lady Nahm-Aina. I won’t think less of you for having such a low rank.”
Blaive opened and closed her mouth a few times, while Wen smiled down at his plate and Caiden blatantly grinned.
“I’m a little surprised that you’re harboring a traitor in your house, Lord Estahr-Sol,” said Blaive, trying another tack.
“It’s not my house just yet. Talia is here on the Empress’s order and the Empress’s coin, and as for treachery—I think that quite depends on your point of view.” Caiden caught Talia’s eye and smiled at her.
Blaive frowned. “Well I should not like to be accused of treachery, whatever the point of view.”
“Sometimes one gets caught on the wrong side of things despite the best of intentions,” said Wen.
Talia thought of the temple, the strange Star-light, the sliver of the Tree he’d stopped her from touching.
“And sometimes one should just stay out of things altogether,” Caiden told him darkly.
“Pardon me, my lord.”
Talia looked up to see Ahned standing in the doorway.
“What is it?” said Caiden.
“There’s a plan to ride out to the Ruen-Shained tomorrow—I’ve hired horses for the occasion. Do you and Lady Nahm-Aina wish to join the party?”
“Wen’s holding?” said Blaive. “Why would we go there?”
“Miss Dahl-Saida has not yet seen the house, my lady,” Ahned told her.
All of Talia’s insecurities and discomfort about the forced betrothal came rushing back.
“Why would Miss Dahl-Saida care about Wen’s house?”
Confusion lined the steward’s face. “Because she’s to live there come spring. Master Wendarien and Miss Dahl-Saida are betrothed.”
Blaive’s eyebrows arched to the top of her head. “Indeed?”
Talia looked at Wen but for once he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Yes, my lady. Would you care to join the party?”
A smile spread across Blaive’s face. “I would.”
“And you, my lord?”
Caiden’s gaze bore straight into Talia’s. “I’ll go.”
The memory of that kiss in the stable nearly overwhelmed her.
“Very well. I’ll have breakfast sent up to your rooms in the morning, and the horses will be ready just after.” Ahned disappeared back into the hallway, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Then Blaive turned to Talia, her eyes filled with laughter. “Might I offer you my most heartfelt congratulations?”
Wen saved Talia the trouble of any reply. “How long might we expect your company at the Ruen-Dahr?” he asked Blaive pointedly.
Blaive turned to Caiden with undisguised regard. “However long the Lord Estahr-Sol wishes me to stay. Which I hope will be a very long time indeed.”
Talia couldn’t sleep.
Every time she shut her eyes she saw the Star-light pulsing in the temple, the piece of the Tree she’d almost touched.
Her mother, trapped beneath the crushing weight of the sea. No one to save her. No release. Just darkness and drowning for all eternity.
She gave up after a while, jerking out of bed and climbing the stairs to the tower library. She unlocked the door, stepped in, and lit a lamp to chase away the dark. The book she’d been reading that afternoon still lay in the chair by the window. She picked it up and settled into the chair, tucking her legs underneath her.
Outside the house, the wind whispered over the stones, and she heard the distant thread of a song spooling up from the sea.
She opened the book.
The Billow Maidens, who were the Waves, mourned the death of their father, and silenced their harps in the great Hall at the base of the Tree, which Rahn had made into a realm of the dead.
But Rahn wore the Star upon her finger, and had great power over them. She commanded the Waves to pick up their harps and let their music resound once more through the sea. Yet they would not.
And Rahn grew angry. She gave the Billow Maidens charge over the great nets she had woven. By the power of the Star she compelled them to go into the wide reaches of the sea every nine years to cast the nets and collect the dead, and bear them back to her Hall.
The Waves wept at their task, and their tears spilled into the sea as their father’s had done, and all the waters of the ocean were mingled with the salt of their sorrow.
As the years slipped away, the Billow Maidens grew bitter and weary of their task, and they mourned for the dead souls who were made to dance in the dark of Rahn’s Hall. The goddess delighted in torturing the dead, stripping away every ounce of their humanity until pain and fear were the only things left. The Waves could do nothing, and they began to hate the very sight of their mother.
They agreed they must take the Star from Rahn’s hand, to end her power and her rule. The strength of Aigir flowed within them, and they were assured of their purpose.
So the Waves stole the Star from Rahn’s hand while she was sleeping, and fled away out into the ocean. But the power of the Star was too great for them—they had not the strength or understanding to wield it, and they could not contain its fire. It burned them, and they feared they would die.
Then Rahn was filled with rage. She summoned her serpents and they pulled her swiftly through the sea to where the Waves were gathered, weeping, for they could not escape the fire of the Star.
And Rahn rebuked them, and took the Star and placed it again on her finger. The Billow Maidens wept all the more, for they feared their mother’s wrath. They begged her forgiveness, but she would not heed them.
In her fury, Rahn lifted the Star high toward the heavens and cursed the Waves, binding them to sit silent nine hundred years in the Hall of the Dead, taking their power away from them and making it her own. There they must wait, unless some mortal braved death and life and the power of the goddess of the sea to come and free them.