Dark One Rising(7)
“I have, but I would rather wait to reveal it. I want to surprise her with a celebration for her twenty-first birthday. Then after the celebration, I will tell her. I want her to be happy during the party, not worried about what is coming. I expect you to make sure she attends. It’s an honor I want to bestow on my only beloved daughter.”
He wanted to argue that the party itself would not make her happy, but he didn’t. “Alright, father, but you will tell me first, correct?”
Randor waved his hand in dismissal. “Yes, yes, one thing at a time. Party first, then nuptials. I have made all the arrangements. You just get her there.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
Melenthia sat next to her father, finishing her meal as she looked around the room at all the nobles and their families that had come for her birthday. She had tried to make her father understand that she didn’t want a birthday party, especially when no one on the guest list were friends of hers; she had none. She didn’t want strangers at her party, people who didn’t even like her, but her father insisted and would hear nothing of it. She looked back on that day a week before.
“These are people you have grown up with, Melenthia, people who have known you all your life.”
“They know you, father, and Kevaan. They refuse to know me, the real me. They don’t even like me.”
“That’s preposterous, Melenthia. Of course they like you. You’re their princess.”
“I know what people say about me. They may sing praises about me to you, but behind your back is a different matter.”
“Maybe if you would try to be more demure and princess-like, they would respect you more.”
“It’s not those people that I want or need to respect me, but those that live in this realm, those that look to us for protection and guidance.”
“We are dropping the subject, Melenthia. It’s your twenty-first birthday and you will not embarrass me by not attending your own party. I expect you to mingle and dance and talk.”
She had swallowed back another retort and suffered the week in silence. Only to Kevaan did she make her plight.
“This is the real reason you rode in from Charbonneau, to bully me into something he wants me to do. He knows I can’t say no to you.”
“I will not bully you. I will only ask nicely.”
“And if I still refuse?”
“I will try harder.”
She changed the subject. “He doesn’t understand me. He expects me to be someone I’m not, someone he wants me to be. I can’t pretend to be what I’m not. And I absolutely dread having to dance with some nobleman who will paw at me and expect me to giggle and bat my eyes at him. I don’t want to have any part of this!” She stamped her foot and scowled.
“Melenthia, I know you hate parties, but it’s something father wants to give you, to let you know how much he loves you. He wants to show you off as the beautiful and graceful lady we both see you as.”
“He cannot love me if he refuses to really know me, the real me.”
Kevaan kissed her on the forehead and smiled at her. “Just eat and dance a dance or two with a man of your choosing. Then when the festivities start going full steam, bail out and escape to your rooms. Everyone will be too drunk by then to notice.”
“Father will notice.”
“I’ll deal with father. Please, Melenthia, for me.” He hated himself for pushing her, knowing well that more bad news would follow this dreaded event, but he had promised his father he would make sure she attended. “Promise me an hour, two at the most. If anyone does anything you do not like, which I know is bound to happen, I will deal with them. I promise.”
She looked up at him, lips pursed, glaring at her sibling, the man she loved. She gave up. Her father was right, she could never say no to Kevaan.
“Oh, very well. I’ll do it only for you.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed her forehead again. He stood from the bench he was sitting on beside her and glanced over his shoulder as he was walking away. “Wear the green velvet dress. It’s father’s favorite. You’ll have all the men eating out of your hand and all the women matching the color with envy.”
She grimaced and went into the keep behind him.
Now, here she was, dressed in the green velvet dress, with long gathered sleeves tied at the wrists, the skirt covered in pearl accents, just as Kevaan had suggested and watching men leer at her from afar. She had suffered through the receiving line, nodding and smiling congenially at all the pompous nobles who came to bring her good cheer on her special day. She knew they all thought the same thing. A twenty-one year old unmarried spinster. If her eyes could shoot arrows, everyone in the room would be dead.