Page 22 of The Mountain King
Chapter Eight
Kailigh returned to her room, escorting Cin on a walk for a good thirty minutes, fast enough to get blood flowing in the girl’s limbs, but not too fast to tire her out. A bath and a change of clothing and Cinvarra was pleasantly tired. Amnan kept his word and sent a member of his staff to attend to them. Kailigh discussed sizes, styles, and colors with the woman who took careful notes and returned several hours later with a selection of clothing and accessories.
Kailigh surveyed the dresses on the bed, pleased with the variety.
“Is there something here you can wear?” the woman asked, not quite hovering.
Kailigh glanced at her. “Oh, yes. You chose very well.”
The lilac for Cinvarra, with navy embroidery and a flowing skirt. Pretty and romantic, but not too sophisticated for a young woman not yet of age. Women did marry as young as sixteen—and they certainly had babies—but Kailigh preferred her daughters enjoy their childhood to the fullest before sampling the responsibilities of motherhood and running a household. And a man.
A bronze-colored dress of silk for Serephone in a sleeveless corset style to show off strong shoulders and toned brown arms. The skirt would skim above her knees in the front but sweep to the floor in the back. Green for Persia, a high-necked dress that bared her back and hugged her hips to mid-thigh then fell in several layers of sheer fabric to her ankles.
Serephone and Persia came in the room after Kailigh chose, and mostly didn’t argue, though they put on a good enough show for the sake of pride. No young woman wanted her mother dressing her like a toddler—but Kailigh really did have a good eye for these things.
“What are you wearing, Ma?” Persia asked, eyeing a dress on the bed. She lifted it from the pile.
Kailigh glanced at the scarlet fabric and snorted. “I don’t think so. The navy, I think. Red is too formal.”
Persia folded her arms. “I won’t wear mine if you don’t wear the red.”
Kailigh frowned at her daughter. “You’ll do as you’re told and be glad to have a new dress.”
Persia laughed. “Not twelve anymore, Ma. That tone doesn’t work on me. The red.”
Several hours later, she brushed and braided her long dark hair at the back of her neck, not bothering with the tiny pots that had been left for her, clear jars of different powdered minerals meant to enhance the female face. Kailigh had no use for such things, though she knew the girls were having a merry time. For all their talk of not wanting husbands, they weren’t putting up much of a fight with all the dressing up. Not even Serephone.
When they emerged from their room, Kailigh held her breath a moment. Three dark-haired, feral-eyed beauties. And because she was their mother, she held up a finger so each one would twirl. Satisfied their blades were properly strapped in place and adequately covered by the dresses, Kailigh nodded.
“My daughters look like very capable helpmeets. Any man would be glad to have you to wed.”
“You’ve bought into this then?” Serephone asked.
“It’s an opportunity,” Kailigh said. “Wealth, security… it’s easier if you have a partner to build with. There was a time people married on a whim, because they thought themselves in love.”
Serephone grimaced and Kailigh smiled. “Yes. But the point now is to combine resources. Like a business arrangement, only you hope you can be friends and lovers with your partner.” She regarded them, sober. “The terms of our agreement are that at least two of us must wed, and there be at least one child born between us.” She hesitated. “These Dwyrkin are odd. Especially the dragon shifters. If there’s a man I can deal tolerably with, who is interested, then I’ll wed to spare at least two of you girls having to make a hasty choice. Persia, Serephone—Cinvarra is young yet. It would be better if one of you—”
“I don’t mind, Mother,” Cinvarra said. “There are worse things, and it would go easier in town if the men knew we had male relatives.”
Kailigh knew it. The reality made her teeth grit in ire—damned if she couldn’t take care of herself just fine—but the reality was that life was easier for a woman with masculine relatives. And they had to live in reality, not in a land of wishful thinking where their gender was irrelevant. She’d been told that even in the days before the War, women had had to fight for full rights.
“All right. But remember—you aren’t required to do anything more tonight than present yourselves. And you aren’t cows. This isn’t an auction.” She took a deep breath, released it. “Maddugh’s son assured me you are all under the protection of his household, which means the men will be forced to be respectful. But pay attention to how they act after they’ve had a few drinks. That’s always a true enough measure of a man’s innards.”
* * *
Amnan eyed the women, a little put out his father had decided to arrange an entire faire simply to impress one human female. The mother would be enough of a challenge to keep in line, but the eldest daughter… he stared at her from the relative safety of his perch. He had a feeling if he stared at her openly, she would shove a blade in his eye for his trouble. An interesting one, and not entirely sane if he was a judge of such things.
But looking at her, his mouth quirked. He wasn’t as enthusiastic as his father and Hrutha at the prospect ofentertainment, but Serephone was interesting enough—if he could keep her from killing someone. Father didn’t seem at all disturbed by the idea.
He’d patted Amnan on the back. “Just watch her knife hand. It twitches when she feels threatened—I’ll have to tell Kailigh to work on that.”
“I’m not sure informing Mistress Kailigh on the shortcomings in her training of her daughter is the best way to win her heart.”
Maddugh grinned. “It’s all in the tone of voice, my boy.”
Amnan sighed. “Young humans should be flooding the faire, as you asked. There will be plenty of beer to loosen tongues, and plenty of opportunities for mischief if you are so inclined.”
“Hmm. No, no, let’s just watch and see if anything starts organically. If there are shenanigans afoot, they won’t waste a chance to strike.”
