The princess Fellarine’s wedding was a grand affair, and Dawn went willingly, encouraged by the kind words of her queen. Her sisters, of course, were thrilled to go, but were disappointed by their father’s closely-watching eye that stopped their occasional attempts to escape away with their eager suitors. Dawn approved, of course. They were really too young to wed, and were certainly too young to know better, too.
She wasn’t that much older than they were, but when you were the wallflower of court, you learned quickly how often noble men amused themselves with cruel jokes on the less fortunate. Dawn spent no small amount of time heading off the more evil-minded jokes, either by warning the victims, or by simply causing a difficulty that made the perpetrators reconsider their plans.
Fortunately, after the Princess’s wedding, everyone was on their best behavior. Dawn herself was gowned in a gift from Tefaelian, a breathtaking creation of dusky pink that glittered with soft silver beads sewn in ornate patterns across the hems and bodice. Her sisters were furious and envious, but she thought they were being just a bit silly. Fleur was in blue silk that matched her eyes exactly, and Belle was in layered greens that fluttered about her like smoke whenever she moved. They were exquisite, and Dawn made sure each of them shone their brightest. There would be matches worth making at this event, and if they were to be wed, she meant to wed them off to the best.
“Congratulations,” she murmured to her cousin when their time came to greet their royal cousin and her new husband. Eletha, of course, beamed like the proud mother she was. She also raised a brow when Dawn slipped a little pouch from her hand to the queen’s when she paused to give her a careful hug. “For the bride, when she gets a moment. It will bring her health, wealth, and happiness.”
“From your friend in the forest?”
Eletha chuckled and tucked the little pouch into her pocket. “Enjoy the party. Watch out for the young rogues. They’re already into the wine.”
“Always,” Dawn assured her, and moved away to let other guests have their moment of the queen’s attention.
The young gentlemen were, as Eletha warned, gathered around the banquet tables. Fellarine had insisted on, and received, a garden feast, punctuated by music, but with few of the trappings of a true formal banquet. Dawn, as many of the ladies were, was barefoot and enjoying the feeling of grass between her toes.
The voice was a surprise. Certainly, she had a few friends among the nobility, but it was all among the old nobility, who enjoyed a stiff game of chess and a willing audience for their stories.
This, however, was not one of the older gentility.
“You must be new,” she sighed when she clapped eyes on the handsome young man before her. His eyes were dark, and his hair fell just past his shoulders. The deep grey of his garb was somber for a wedding, but set him off nicely. “How may I assist you, my lord?”
“I should like a dance,” he said, confident but not brash. That was rather new, even if the trick and trap were ones Dawn had seen before. He bowed over her hand politely, which was nice, but unfortunately the prelude to one of Dawn’s lesast favorite tricks. “With you, if you would honor me so.”
Dawn only sighed. “Bolton or Mosailat?”
“I’m sorry?’ the question took some of the wind out of his sails. “My name is-“
“No,” Dawn told him, and patted his hand kindly. “Who put you up to it? Bolton’s been quiet lately, but that happens when a lady punches your teeth in for being an ass. Mosailat isn’t as bad, but he’s got a mean streak when he drinks.”
Someone had, and those two were the most common perpetrators. They were also some of the most popular in the young crowd, and Dawn was used to them of old. They were all of an age and her patience was thin already. Only the silver roses in her hair, what anyone else might have taken for metal ornaments, kept her spine straight and her shoulders set. After all, a faerie man loved her. These noble brats were nothing she couldn’t handle.
“No one,” the lord stammered, genuinely baffled. That was new, and interesting. Dawn accepted a glass of wine from a server and considered him. “My name is Dalesser. I heard one of the servants telling another that you were kind, and that if she had trouble, to find you.”
That was interesting too, and Dawn gave him her full attention, intrigued. “And are you in trouble?”
“Of a sort,” he admitted, and spared a smile for her, wry but honest. “I’m terribly in love with a lady, but her father will hear nothing of her marrying. I thought perhaps I might better my chances if I met the kind sister who has the respect of the servants, and the queen.”
Well, well. Someone with some sense, at least. It was a bit insulting to be asked to dance by a man who would rather dance with one of her sisters, but at least Dawn could count on him not to flirt with her. That was refreshing. “Belle or Fleur?”
“You know she’s a terror when she’s in a temper, and she likes horses more than any three people ought to?”
Dalesser winced, but brightened when she set her wine aside and nodded to the seat beside her. He sat, and Dawn looked around the garden until she caught sight of her sisters. Belle was holding court, as she often did. She set all the latest fashions, and Dawn encouraged it. Those alliances would help later in her life. Fleur however, was stealing glances towards Dawn, or more likely Dawn’s company. When she caught Dawn’s eyes, she blushed and fiddled with her fan.
Well, alright, so she liked this young man back. That changed things a little.
“I know,” Dalesser said, and swirled the wine in his glass. “The first time I saw her, she was riding. I’ve never seen a lady take the jumping course so fast, and riding side-saddle to boot.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a man if I was frightened off by a fiery lady.”
This one might just be acceptable, Dawn decided. Oh, there was still the difficulty of her father’s decree, but she was working on that, and by the time it was settled, Fleur would probably be old enough to wed. If this fellow was properly in love, he would wait for her. If he didn’t love Fleur enough to wait, he wasn’t worthy of her anyway.
“Alright,” Dawn decided, and set her wine aside. A servant appeared to whisk it away and she spared the lad a smile. He winked back, a favorite of hers for his quick hands and sly sense of humor. She stood and shook out her skirts. “If you really don’t mind dancing with your beloved’s boring elder sister, I could perhaps stand a dance with you.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it,” Dalesser said, and stood to offer her his arm. “My mother raised me to make sure no lady goes wanting for lack of dancing partners, and you’re rumored to have conversation worth making.”
“And who is your mother?” Dawn asked, intrigued despite herself as he led her onto the dance floor, much to the surprise of nearly everyone, including Dawn herself. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“I’m new to this court,” Dalesser told her with a wink. “But between the lady who holds my heart, and her steadfast sisters, I might be convinced to stay longer. I’ve not had so much fun in a court in years.”
“Belle already threatened you, I see.”
“To hear the court tell tales, she learned it from you. Dare I hope I have a chance to win Lady Fleur’s heart and hand?”
“Her heart is up to you, but if you stay a decent fellow, I might put a good word in for you regarding her hand.”
Dawn is not a lovely woman, but her blind faerie love thinks her voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.
Of Weddings and Braids (Subscriber Only!)
