Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [75]
“Yes, my lord,” Hecati said.
Elandra gasped, and even Bixia looked impressed.
Hecati’s eyes narrowed to slits. She watched Elandra closely, like a cat eyeing its prey.
Albain looked a bit stunned, but he rallied. “Bixia’s got other robes. One of them will have to do.”
“But, Father!” Bixia wailed. “The others aren’t blessed. I can’t marry the emperor like a rag girl. I have to have a robe from Mahira. You know how important it is.”
“No!” he said explosively. “Murdeth and Fury, girl. You’ll make a pauper of me.”
Tears welled up in Bixia’s green eyes. “I can’t go through with it. My bridal robe is ruined, and my marriage will be cursed forever.”
“Enough of that!” he said roughly, bill helplessness had entered his gaze. “Oh, hell’s breath. Don’t start that drizzling. We’ll see what can be done.”
“Oh, Father, thank you!” Bixia flung her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss his scarred cheek. “You’re so good to me. So kind and generous.”
He patted her shoulder and cleared his throat with gratification. “We’ll see. Now mind you, get dressed in a hurry.”
Beaming, Bixia vanished back into her bedchamber with a slam of the door. Her gong rang, summoning attendants. One of Elandra’s duties was to help her sister dress every morning. Right now, however, she scarcely dared breathe, and she did not move.
“What is to be done, my lord?” Hecati asked. “The wedding cannot proceed as planned—”
“It must!” he shouted, then grimaced and raised his hand in placation. “No delays,” he said in a more reasonable tone of voice. “Damn it all, I won’t insult the emperor all because of an accursed nightgown!”
“Your daughter must have the raiment that is her due.”
“Hell’s teeth, woman! I’ve spent a fortune already on her damned trousseau.”
“That is not the issue,” Hecati said coolly. “Brides of high lineage are traditionally sent to their marriage beds in Mahiran bridal robes. The blessing was to ensure a swift conception of an heir. If Lady Bixia fails in this duty, there will be—”
“Enough,” he said heavily and wiped perspiration from his brow. “No need to spell out what I understand perfectly. All must go on as planned. I’ll send word to Mahira about getting a replacement. Damnation! I could buy a new war mount for the cost. Or a trio of young elephants.”
The jinja darted over to Elandra and swirled around her in a green blur before joining Albain. The baron draped a fond hand over the creature’s narrow shoulder.
“Must this horrid thing remain in the room?” Hecati asked with visible uneasiness. She made a shooing motion, which it ignored. “All is proven safe. It does not need to linger here.”
“Who was whipped, master?” the jinja asked with a wicked grin that showed its pointed teeth.
Albain ignored its question, but spots of color appeared on Hecati’s cheeks.
Elandra watched them closely. Thus far they had ignored her. She eased one step away. Then another, hoping the jinja would be quiet about the whipping. She wanted no attention turned on her now. There would be time to explain the truth to her father later, when Hecati was gone.
But Hecati turned her head and looked straight at Elandra. “As for who did this ignominious—”
The jinja swirled around. “Lies in the room. Lies in the room.”
“Hush,” Albain admonished it.
Looking hurt, the jinja darted over to the window and crouched on the sill with a sulky face.
“Enough sly accusations,” Elandra said, stepping forward. She looked at her father. “Lady Hecati blames me for what happened to the robe.”
Albain’s single eye met her gaze, and he frowned. She had his jaw, his temper, and his auburn hair. Her height and slender figure she’d gotten from her mother. Her mind was her own, and she’d fought tooth and nail all her life to get it educated.
She knew he had other illegitimate children besides herself. There were several stablehands running about with the Albain hair or the Albain jaw.
But she was the only highborn bastard in his progeny,her lineage proud on both sides. Why her mother had consorted with Albain, breaking her own marriage vows while her husband