The fire in the hearth was dying down, the elderly chaperone asleep with her needlework on her lap, and the scones were mere crumbs. Even the two terriers had sprawled out, sound asleep. Amberhill guessed that an undue amount of time had elapsed.
“I must be going,” Amberhill said, and Lady Estora’s expression fell with disappointment. “But not without wedding gifts first. For my cousin, a colt or filly of his choosing from the first breeding season at my estate.”
“Xandis—” Zachary started to protest.
Amberhill cut him off with a gesture. “It is entirely my pleasure and no hardship. Think of what fine promotion it will be for my stables to have Sacoridia’s king riding one of my foals. Which brings me to Lady Estora.” He smiled at her. “I’ve one of my stablehands bringing to Sacor City a yearling filly with a white coat, one of my Goss’ first offspring. She will make a fine hunter and pleasure horse. Your old mare, as I recall, met her demise at Teligmar.” That was a kind way of saying she’d been ridden to death.
Lady Estora nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, and hands clasped together. “I have missed Falan very much. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, but I am not finished.” He removed a velvet bag from an inside pocket of his frock coat and passed it to Lady Estora.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Look and see.”
She withdrew a delicate gold chain from which hung a pendant fixed with a shining golden gem like the orb of the sun. Gold was worked around it to create the sun’s curling rays. She placed one hand to her chest as though her breath were taken away. Zachary raised an eyebrow.
“A gold sapphire,” Amberhill said. He’d thought it would complement her golden hair, and he was right.
“It’s ... it’s too much,” Lady Estora said.
“Nonsense. When I saw it, I knew it must be yours.” He did not tell her he first saw it in the bowels of a pirate’s corpse. His jeweler had grimaced when Amberhill gave it to him to clean, but the man did a marvelous job, and fixed the clasp on the chain as well. He also asked no questions.
“Where did you find this piece?” Zachary asked. Did he sound a trifle suspicious? Or better yet, a little jealous?
Amberhill half-smiled. “Same dealer as I got my ring. He’s a good eye for fine antiquities, and so do I.” He wondered, as he did over many of the pieces he’d recovered, to whom the necklace originally belonged. Was she as lovely and kind as Lady Estora? Or was she wicked and cruel? As he gazed at it now in the lady’s palm, it seemed to him it could have been made only for her.
“Will you put it on me?” Lady Estora asked.
“No, my lady,” Amberhill replied. “That’s my cousin’s duty.”
Caught unaware, it was a moment before Zachary stood and bowed to the lady and took the necklace to clasp around her neck.
Amberhill had chosen well. The chain sloped delicately around her neck, and the pendant dangled just above her cleavage. The facets of the sapphire sparkled and burned with flames of gold.
“Ah,” he said. “You are Aeryon come to the Earth to walk among us lowly mortals.” With the radiance of the gem adding to her natural glow, he could not help but think the sun goddess was truly in the parlor with them. She certainly favored Lady Estora.
“You overstate it,” she said with a laugh.
“No, my lady,” Zachary said with an uncertain smile, “he does not. But I knew that even before the necklace.”
His pronouncement was met with silence. Lady Estora was plainly stunned to hear the words, and Zachary looked stunned to have spoken them. Amberhill privately applauded his cousin. Funny what a nice piece of jewelry could inspire.
“Now, I am afraid, I must take my leave.” He stood and bowed, and kissed Lady Estora’s hand. He admired the pendant close-up as his eyes roved over her breasts.
“Are you sure you must leave us—the city—so soon?” Lady Estora asked. “I am planning a ball, a masquerade ball, and we would love for you to attend.”
“I hope to make my departure as soon as I may, though I will see what I can do about the masquerade. No promises, however.”
There was nothing else to say, so the couple wished him a happy and prosperous voyage, and he wished them a happy and prosperous marriage. He had no idea of what lay in the east for him, he just knew he needed to go, and by the time he returned—if he returned—Zachary and Lady Estora would be well into their union together.
In the meantime, he had a late night ahead of him.
A GOOD TURN
Though the Raven Mask was “dead,” Amberhill maintained his skills, roaming all quarters of the city in the dark of night, silently sinking into shadows.. He listened to rumors in the streets from those who gossiped about the betrothal of Zachary and Lady Estora, to those who expressed uneasiness about a gathering darkness in the world. He observed lovers strolling by, whispering words only lovers could whisper.
Mostly what he heard in the night was ordinary folk grumbling petty complaints about the weather, the price of grain, and one another. Still, he preferred that to his dreams of the unceasing roll of waves, the sea calling to him, calling him till he ached.
He took a deep breath as the throb built within him, and another until it eased. Cloaked and hooded in black, he stood in the shadow of a close. Few were out at this hour, mostly drunks and vagrants. Dim light filtered from the grubby windows of the Cock and Hen. Rumor had drawn him here to the lower city; rumor of a pair of unsavory characters who visited the most disreputable inns and taverns. There was a familiar ring to the details he heard about them.