Kastali Dun

Claire heard a knock at her door as she sloppily finished the ties on her gown—who cared if her gown didn't look as properly executed as the other women? She wrapped herself in a shawl before shouting, "Just a moment," from across the room. Then she stepped away from her mirror and left her dressing area.

Because her windows faced south-west, the golden rays of sunlight sparkling on the surface of the sea were not yet dancing in her quarters. The air outside was especially cool this morning, as if the world knew it was a rest day, as if it had permission to relax. Each morning was consecutively cooler as fall approached. The first day of fall was a little over a week away, bringing them closer to the Fall Tournament, which happened on the middle-most day of fall.

Each year, various competitions took place in Kastali Dun's arena. These events were open to the public. Most highlighted physical strength and ability, some of which involved fighting or archery. There were always celebrations to accompany the competitions; a few even took place in the keep. On the streets outside the city's arena, vendors set up temporary stalls, and tents were erected for various entertaining performances. From dancers to acrobats, there was sure to be something for everyone.

Although this particular tournament came around once a year to Kastali Dun, every five years, a ball accompanied the end of events. This year happened to be known as a fifth year—a ball year. Claire had heard enough to be eager. Every time she pictured the tournament, she pictured something magnificent; for the first time since coming to Dragonwall, she was finally looking forward to something.

Reaching her door at last, she opened it to find a welcome face. "Desaree!" she cried, jumping out of the way. Desaree's chocolate-brown eyes warmly greeted her. She would have hugged her were it not for the tray Desaree held.

"Good morning, Lady Claire."

"Cut the crap, Desaree. Call me Claire. None of that lady stuff. And since we are on the matter of names, may I call you Des?"

Desaree smiled wide then stepped forward. "Des would be absolutely fine. And I'll use Claire."

Claire shut her door and followed Desaree through the chamber.

"I was excited," Desaree said, "when Tess sent me along with your breakfast." She deposited her armful at Claire's dining table. "I have been waiting for a chance to bring you your meal. We hardly get to see each other."

It was true. They rarely got to spend time together. Claire had an idea; she said, "Why don't you stay and dine with me?"

Desaree's eyes glowed. "I would not dare decline such an offer!"

The two of them sat down to a generous breakfast of oatmeal, boiled eggs, fruit, warm spiced bread, honey, and juice. For a few minutes they ate in silence, licking their fingers and letting out an occasional sigh of contentment. At last, Claire slowed her pace and used the opportunity to tell Desaree everything that had happened the day prior. She started with her lessons and ended with Caterina's threats. By the end of her retelling, Desaree's tan face had already lost its color. "Pardon my surprise," Desaree said, her eyes wide, "but Caterina threatened you!" There was a long pause before Desaree added, "Why aren't you more upset about it? Do you not understand the severity of her actions?"

"I..." Claire swallowed. "I know it was inappropriate, at the least."

"Inappropriate! Claire, you are royal."

"That didn't stop her."

Desaree shook her head. "None but the king is higher than you. She should have kept her mouth closed. Lucky for her there were no guards around to see her misbehavior."

Claire shrugged "Karma's a bitch. I am sure she will get what's coming...eventually."

"Claire, I would not be so sure. I do not know what you mean by karma, but as for Caterina getting her due..." Desaree shook her head. "I do not think she has suffered a single consequence of her actions, except perhaps her father's death. I cannot say that was her doing."

Claire scowled, growing suspicious. "How do you know so much about her?"

Desaree set her utensils down and looked up. "There is something I should tell you. I—I should have told you before. You have always been so truthful with me."

"What...what is it, Des?" Claire's appetite was quickly fading.

"When I was younger, Caterina was my stepsister... Judging by your expression, I imagine you are as shocked as Verath was—"

"Wait, Verath knows?" Claire hadn't expected this.

"He does now," Desaree said, "as of recently. Listen, Claire, you need to watch yourself around Caterina."

Claire struggled to digest the news. "So, wait, if Caterina was your step-sister, then Lord Stefan Rosen was your stepfather?" The whole time she had known Desaree, she never would have suspected it. "I'm struggling to keep up. How did...?"

"It's a long story," Desaree said, her face red with guilt. "I wish I had the nerve to tell it now—another time, I promise. Besides, I need to get back to my duties." Desaree scarfed down a few more bites before she said, "I will only say this: it was suspicious and reckless for Caterina to make such a bold claim in your presence. I mean, who in all the gods' names would boast about killing someone?"

Claire barked a laugh. "An insane person, that's who. Caterina's probably insane."

Desaree's eyes fell to the table and she was quiet; her hands were folded in her lap. When she next spoke, her voice was flat. "Claire, I should tell you that Caterina's bold claim might be more serious than you realize. I hate to reiterate it, but I am worried."

"Why? What are you so worried about? You're hiding something, aren't you?"

"Claire... My—my mother mysteriously died just a few years after Stefan married her. That is how I came to be here in the keep. Bad things happen around Caterina. She...she ruined my life...my happiness."

"Wait, are you insinuating that she killed your mother?" Claire rubbed her throat, digesting the idea.

"I—I never said that." Desaree shook her head. "I would be stupid to make such a bold claim given my position, especially without proof."

"Was there any?"

"Proof? None that I could find—not at the time. I have often wondered..." Desaree's voice grew taut.

Claire was quiet before she said, "Maybe Caterina is just like her father." She gripped her fork harder than necessary. "At any rate, she doesn't deserve to get away with her behavior—any of it. I hate the way she treats you, Des." Claire felt her body tense with anger. "She needs to be held accountable. I don't know how I can help, but I will do what I can."

"Thank you for that. Your support means a great deal to me. The gods only know she has plenty of supporters..." Desaree sighed and pushed her plate away. "Just be on your guard, Claire. She's dangerous—remember that."

"I will watch out for her, I promise."

"If it happens again—if Caterina threatens you again, tell the king." There was truth in Desaree's words. If Caterina threatened her again, she would go to King Talon and tell him. For now, she decided to bide her time and hope it all fizzled into nothing.

Desaree stood to leave. "I wish we had more time. It was too brief."

"Way too brief. Maybe you can deliver my breakfast every morning?" Claire tried to lighten the mood. "I would much rather spend my meal with you."

"You may request me. Verath does." At this Desaree's face turned a deep shade of red. "I will inform Tess." She gave a curtsey and made her way to the door.

"Oh, Des—I love calling you Des—I almost forgot! Saffra and I are going to the city's market today. I need to get some supplies for my lessons. Plus, I really want to see more of the city. Would you like to come along?"

Desaree's face glowed. "I would be delighted to." Then her face fell. "Only, I am not permitted to abandon my daily duties."

"But it's a rest day!"

"Yes, well, I don't always get my rest days to rest. We servants must take turns. There is always work to be done...as you well know."

"All too well. But surely Tess will make an exception?" Before there was time to answer, Claire added, "Tell her I insist! If she has a problem with that, she can speak with me about it. You're coming!"

Desaree smiled mischievously. "Very well then. If you will have it no other way, I am sure Tess will have no choice. When and where should I meet you?"

"We are meeting in the lower courtyard, just inside the portcullis, after lunch—the mid-day meal. If I don't see you there, I will come and find you. There's no getting out of this." She wagged a finger at Desaree. Even though her voice sounded easy, there was a degree of seriousness behind her words. Desaree deserved some fun.

"See you there," Desaree said before taking her leave.

The remainder of Claire's morning was spent in excited anticipation. With it being a rest day, she did not have to visit Marcel, or attend to any other lessons. When lunch arrived, she sat with Saffra and told her about the extended invitation to Desaree.

"I am glad you invited her," Saffra said. "She needs some time away from this stuffy castle."

When they finished eating, they made their way to the lower courtyard to wait for Desaree. They were joined shortly thereafter by Verath, who had been charged with the task of escorting them. "Good afternoon Lady Claire, Lady Saffra," he said, offering them a friendly greeting.

Aside from seeing Verath in the king's chambers, Claire had never spent any time in his presence. This would be interesting, especially with Desaree joining them.

She glanced around. Four guards stood at a distance, intently regarding them. She gave the armored men a strange look to which Verath answered, "They will be shadowing us to ensure your safety."

"You yourself aren't safety enough?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

His mouth twitched but he said nothing. Moments later she spotted Desaree, who approached from the east wing of the keep. Guards forgotten, Claire gave her an excited wave and raised her voice to call, "I hope Tess didn't give you a hard time."

"Not at all," Desaree answered, stopping before them. "Good afternoon, Lady Saffra, Lady Claire...Lord Verath." Desaree curtsied to all of them.

Claire noticed the way Desaree's eyes lingered over Verath causing her to smile. Unintentionally, she was playing the role of matchmaker. This trip to the market offered Desaree and Verath some time in each other's company. Moreover, now Claire could witness the spectacle of the love birds.

"Shall we get going?" Desaree asked after the awkward silence that followed.

"Yes! Let's," Claire answered, taking each friend by the elbow, linking her arms through theirs. As they moved away from Verath, they burst into a fit of giggles, leaving the Shield to trail behind them. Saffra walked on Claire's left and Desaree on Claires' right.

As they made their way deep into the city, Saffra and Desaree pointed out various districts and shops. Claire was eager to take in everything as she tried not to forget any of the names they gave. "That there is called Merchant's Lane." Saffra pointed at a street running perpendicular to the one they currently traversed. "It's where you will find all the nicest shops."

"I remember!" Claire cried, overcome with excitement. "I've only been there once when Reyr took me to Madame Rosanne's."

"Oh, and don't go down that one over there—" Desaree pointed to an alley a little further along the road. "All the richer men frequent the whore houses there."

Claire followed Desaree's finger as she peered down into a darkened, shadowed lane. Then she looked at her companions. They each started laughing and glancing over their shoulders to see if Verath had heard them.

As they continued, the houses got shabbier, roads gave way to muddy streets, and each of them had to pick up their skirts to keep from dirtying their gowns. When they reached the market at the dockyards, Claire was overwhelmed. The smell of saltwater and fish, the loud sounds of bells and voices, the call of sea gulls, the hustle and bustle, it was all so intensely stimulating.

Booths and merchant tents stretched out before them as far as the eye could see. These took on a vast array of colors and reminded Claire of craft fair stalls. Her heart thumped with excitement. She glanced at Saffra and Desaree, smiling wide as they approached a mass of shoppers.

As soon as they were surrounded by the crowd, Claire's nose wrinkled. It smelled as if many around her had missed one too many baths. When she looked at them, their disheveled clothes and dirtied faces illustrated just how poor they were. All in all, there was a mix of people, including several wealthy patrons. She noticed that most of these wealthier people were accompanied by personal guards, just as she was. Perhaps the king's caution was well warranted after all.

As they made their way from tent to tent, Verath kept an unusually close watch on his charges. He was never more than a few steps away, making it difficult to get any quality girl-talk in. Regardless, Claire, Desaree, and Saffra made the best of their circumstances.

The three of them soon stopped at a stall selling beautiful shawls. The fabrics were eye-catching—bright orange silk with embroidered silver flowers, turquoise brocade with diamond-pattern stitching, lavender lace... Everything called to them. They rushed around in a frenzy, admiring the various shawls, trying them on over their gowns. Claire had acquired a handful before she realized that the smaller merchants, such as this one, probably didn't use the credit system. She wasn't going to be able to use the king's account like in the past.

Verath must have noticed her dismay. "This is for you—from the king," he said in an undertone, stepping up beside her with a leather pouch. It was heavy and clinked when he placed it into her palm.

For a moment she stood still, too surprised to move, gazing at the little pouch with wide eyes. "Thanks!" she finally answered. Verath had already stepped away.

Claire looked at Saffra and Desaree. Saffra already had two shawls draped over her arm and was considering a third. Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together in concentration as she gazed at the dark green fabric. Desaree stood admiring the same shawl she had been looking at the entire time—a robin's-egg blue wrap of lightweight fabric, with little tassels dangling from the ends.

Claire decided to do something daring. Louder than necessary, she said, "Desaree, that one brings out your beautiful eyes."

"Really?" Desaree's manner of speech was animated. "I do love it ever so much!" She draped the shawl around herself yet again, turning this way and that in the large mirror. Her smile alone illustrated how much she liked the shawl.

"Doesn't it look wonderful on her?" Claire turned to Saffra, speaking louder still to ensure that Verath had heard. She then glanced at him, pleased to see that he was admiring Desaree from afar. When he noticed Claire's scrutiny, his face changed to blank indifference and he turned away.

"It certainly does suit her well," Saffra said, her voice echoing genuine admiration. "Desaree, you must purchase it! Claire and I insist, don't we, Claire?"

Claire smiled and nodded. "We do."

Once Claire finished picking out the shawls she liked, she paid the merchant and waited for Saffra and Desaree to do the same. When it was Desaree's turn, the man gave the price of the shawl, to which Desaree replied, "Fifteen silvers? I... Never mind. I changed my mind."

"Very well, miss," the merchant answered, holding out his hand to take the shawl.

Claire stepped in front of Desaree. "I will get the shawl for her."

"No, Claire. It is fine. I do not need it," Desaree said, trying to appear modest.

"Yes, you do too need it. It looks exceptional on you. I'm getting it. Besides"—she added in a whisper—"it's not my money, it's the king's!"

Desaree's cheeks turned bright pink, but she did not argue. When they finished paying the merchant, they ventured back into the market proudly carrying their wares. Claire made sure to take note of Verath's overly pleased expression as they set off again.

When she slowed at the next booth, eager to browse through a display of perfumes, Verath stepped up beside her. "That was very kind of you—what you did for Desaree. It is a gesture I will not soon forget. You have my thanks." His voice was low; he did not intend to be overheard.

"Desaree deserves the best," Claire said, looking back at him with a sly smile. "Don't you agree?"

"She certainly does," he answered. "I could not agree more. Furthermore, I intend to see that she gets everything she deserves, and more."

"Then we share a mutual desire." Already, this guard was growing on her. Verath nodded in agreement. She offered him a quick smile before shuffling away to rejoin her friends. She now knew something for certain: Desaree had more than one friend looking out for her. And like Verath, she was going to do everything she could to see that Desaree got what she truly deserved.

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