The Crystal Chalice (Book 1) (44 page)

 He stood watching her,
leaning against a post, his arms folded. She continued patting the horse -
which seemed completely overcome by so much attention - and was unaware of how
intensely she was being regarded.

 “Have you noticed how
the King looks at Triana?” she asked suddenly, revealing that her mind had not
been on her equine companion.

 “I noticed. Every day
that we stay here the situation seems to become more complicated.”

 “Andarion intends to leave
after this banquet - he hasn’t said so, but I sense it. He is waiting for the
invitations to arrive back at the palace.”

 But when they returned
to their quarters, they discovered that he had already received them. He was
sitting alone in the dining hall, studying three gilt-edged cards with concern.

 “What are those?”
Elorin asked.

 “The invitations to the
banquet.” He halted awkwardly, then said in a rush: “There’s a problem. I don’t
quite know how to tell you this, but you and Celedorn have not been included in
the invitation because you are... you are...” he floundered.

 It was left to Celedorn
to finish the sentence. “Not of noble birth. The Captain let drop something to
that effect.”

 The Prince looked
discomfited. “I’ve a good mind not to go because of that, but a refusal would
cause grave offence.”

 Elorin shrugged
carelessly, in a manner that deceived one of her companions but not the other.
“Of course you must go. I’m not offended because I have not the smallest desire
to go. Such events can be so boring, having to make polite conversation to
total strangers. I, for one, am quite relieved to get out of it.”

 The Prince’s brow
lightened. “Really?”

 “Of course.”

 When she had gone,
Celedorn slowly sat down in the chair facing the Prince across the table.

 “I take it you are not
offended either?” Andarion asked.

 “No, such occasions do
not interest me, but I must ask you to obtain an invitation for Elorin.”

 The Prince was
startled. “But she just said that.....”

 Celedorn interrupted,
surprised by the Prince’s lack of perception. “I know what she just said but
she is merely putting a brave face on it. She has been hurt by the fact that
she has been deemed unworthy to receive an invitation. Oblige me by going to
Captain Naldian and using your influence to secure an invitation card for her.
Tell him that although her birth is not known for certain, you have reason to
believe that she is of a noble family.”

 “But.....”

 “Tell him whatever you
like,” snapped Celedorn, “but get that invitation for her. You can tell her
that there was a mix-up and her card was misplaced.”

 “Do you want me to do
the same for you?”

 Celedorn laughed
sourly. “Most certainly not. There may be doubt about Elorin’s birth, but there
is absolutely none about mine.” He rose to leave, then looked back. “Oh, and by
the way, on no account reveal to Elorin that I intervened in this matter. Let
her think she was invited all along and that her card was merely overlooked.”

 On leaving the Prince,
Celedorn, with another mission in mind, headed with determination up the stairs
to the corridor where their apartments were situated and knocked gently on one
of the doors.

 Triana, who had been
sitting in her room sewing peacefully, was startled to see who her visitor was.

 “Celedorn!” she exclaimed
in surprise.

 He was perfectly well
aware that she found him disconcerting and was more than a little amused by it.
However he greeted her gravely, his thoughts not appearing on his face.

  “I wish to ask a
favour of you, Triana,” he announced, noting her instantly wary look. “Andarion
is securing an invitation for Elorin to attend the banquet and I wish you to
purchase a dress for her.”

 He crossed to her as he
spoke and set several gold coins into her hand. “I understand that such events
are very formal and that everyone will attend in their finest clothes. I don’t
want Elorin to feel that she is at a disadvantage, so I would ask that the
dress be of the finest materials - silk, or whatever.”

 She was staring at him
in amazement, as if hardly able to take in what he was saying. He knew well the
reason for her reaction but pretended to misunderstand.

 “Is that not enough?”
he asked, indicating the gold.

 “Oh! Er....yes, more
than enough,” she stammered.

 “Buy her whatever else
she needs and if you need more money, come to me. Choose something in blue -
it’s her favourite colour.”

 “I.......yes, of
course.”

 He turned to leave,
aware that he had utterly confounded her and gaining a certain wicked
satisfaction from the knowledge, but as his hand touched the door handle, he
abruptly turned back. “One other thing, I must extract from you a promise not
to tell anyone, especially Elorin, that I did this. Do you understand?”

 A little cowed by his
stern look, she nodded vigorously but apparently he was not satisfied.

 “Give me your word,” he
demanded.

 “I promise,” she
replied, aware of a sense of disappointment that Elorin would never know who
her benefactor was.

 “Good,” he said, his
expression lightening. A flicker of humour lurked in his eyes. “I will now
remove my very disturbing presence from your sight.”

 Caught by surprise,
Triana laughed despite herself, liking him better that she had ever done.

  It had been Celedorn’s
intention to return to the stables, but when he emerged in the busy streets, he
put his hand in his pocket and encountered something he had forgotten about. He
set the little object on his palm and studied it thoughtfully, then reaching a
decision, he turned abruptly on his heel and strode off in the direction of the
broad avenues where the merchants traded their wares.

 Unfortunately, the
Prince, being a poor liar, was not quite able to convince Elorin that her
invitation had merely been overlooked, and instead, all his denials only served
to convince her that he had gone to a great deal of trouble to obtain it for
her. It did not occur to her that Celedorn might have had a role to play, and
all the Prince achieved was to establish the firm conviction in her mind that
his efforts on her behalf spoke of a deeper regard for her than she had
hitherto suspected.

 Triana unwittingly
added fuel to the misconception. On asking Elorin if she would accompany her to
a dressmaker to be measured for a gown suitable for the occasion, she was met
with an instant refusal. It began to emerge that Elorin’s pride was offended by
the thought of receiving charity from Triana.

 Triana, confronted with
such recalcitrance, carefully thought over her promise to Celedorn and realised
that while she had given her word not to reveal that he had paid for the dress,
she had not promised to reveal the source of such bounty was not herself.

 “It’s not me, Elorin,”
she explained apologetically. “I can’t tell you who it is, but I assure you it
is not me.”

 Elorin’s heart leaped.
“It’s all right,” she smiled. “I need ask you no more, for I think I already
know.”

 Triana heaved a sigh of
relief that she was not going to be subjected to an interrogation, but she would
not have been so happy if she had known that Elorin had come to the conclusion
that her benefactor was the Prince.

 On the evening of the
banquet, Elorin returned to her room just as dusk was falling. On opening the
door, she realised that someone had already been in the room, for the candles
were lit and her dress was laid out on the bed. Beside it on the crimson quilt,
lay a tiny black velvet bag. Intrigued, she untied the strings and the contents
spilled out onto her hand. She gasped in delight when she held the object up to
the light. It was a delicate gold pendant. A tiny, heart-shaped pearl was
encased in a setting of intricate strands of gold. It hung from her fingers
suspended on its chain, glittering as it turned in the light.

 She stared at it, its
full significance dawning on her. “He has given me a heart,” she whispered to
herself. “He is telling me what I never thought to hear.”

 The three men waiting
in the deserted dining hall, were quite unprepared for the vision of beauty
that appeared through the door. Andarion looked handsome in dark blue, even
Relisar had on a clean gown, but nothing prepared them for what they saw. Three
jaws dropped when the door opened. Elorin wore a flowing dress of lavender-blue
that swirled around her like water. It was richly decorated along the hem with
gold thread and seed pearls. She wore her chestnut hair piled on top of her
head, giving her an air of regality, and at her throat nestled the little
heart. Triana, fragile in pale pink, felt a little eclipsed by her tall friend
and would have gladly sacrificed the perfect golden colour of her hair for a
few more inches. However, her eye caught Celedorn’s and she had the
satisfaction of receiving a tiny nod of approval.

 Elorin raised an
eyebrow mischievously at Relisar. “I’m deeply flattered, my dear friend, that
you tore yourself away from your books to escort us to this event.”

 Relisar did not feel
that it was the moment to reveal that Celedorn had been forced to fetch him
from the library, and had dragged him away protesting vehemently. Instead he
smiled sheepishly, like a schoolboy caught in mischief.

The Prince stepped forward,
finally finding his voice. “I will be the most envied man present this evening,
because I have on either arm the two most beautiful women in the kingdom.”

 Relisar was miffed. “I
note neither of them wants to take
my
arm,” he remarked in a disgruntled
voice to Celedorn.

 But his remark went
unnoticed, for his companion’s entire attention was riveted to Elorin, his gaze
focused on the tiny pearl from Skerris-morl gleaming at her throat. He watched
as she lightly placed her hand on the Prince’s proffered arm, conscious of a
deep pride in her mingled with the sadness of knowing that she would never have
taken his arm with such a glowing look.

 When they had gone,
Celedorn returned to his room, intending to read. He had lifted an interesting
book from the library when he had collared Relisar, but found that it would not
hold his attention. After reading the same line three times, he tossed the book
aside and began to restlessly pace his room. Finally, he gave in to his mood
and descending the stairs, strolled out into the parkland surrounding the
palace. It was utterly deserted, which suited his humour exactly. He walked
quietly amongst the trees like a shadow, enjoying the solitude and the balmy
air of the summer night. His path eventually led him near the palace. Curtains
had been drawn across the windows of the banqueting hall but he could hear the
faint sounds of chatter, music and laughter issuing from the room.

 He sat down on the
grass at the foot of a tree a short distance away and leaning his head back,
looked up through the branches at the starlit sky, wondering why he felt so
empty, so alone.

 A burst of sound from
the hall captured his attention as the tall doors were briefly opened to allow
two people access to the paved terrace. He instantly recognised one of the
voices

 “A beautiful night,”
the Prince remarked. “So clear and mild.”

 “Yes,” Elorin agreed.
“I hope you don’t mind coming out here for a few moments. It was just so hot in
there.”

 Celedorn risked a swift
glance round the tree and saw them walking together on the terrace a short
distance away. He had no wish to spy on them, but if he arose, he would be
instantly seen and he did not wish to precipitate an embarrassing encounter, so
he sat where he was, hoping that once Elorin had got her breath of air, they
would return to the hall.

 But it appeared that
she had something else in mind. “I wanted an opportunity to speak to you
alone,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you for this evening, for all you
have done for me.”

 Thinking she referred
to the invitation, Andarion disclaimed politely. “It was my pleasure, Elorin.
The evening would not have been enjoyable without you.”

 “I wanted you to know
that I understand what you.....well, what you indicated to me and I think I
should assure you that your feelings are returned.

 The listener by the
tree froze, suddenly realising what had happened.

 The Prince, not having
the requisite knowledge, was puzzled. “I’m sorry, Elorin, but I don’t quite
follow you. My feelings?”

 “Yes, I understand now.
I had thought there was no hope for us, but now that I know that you feel the
same way, I......”

 “Elorin,” he
interrupted her, looking distressed. “I think there has been some kind of
misunderstanding. I care for you very deeply - but as a friend, not, I think,
in the way that you mean.”

 She stepped back
sharply, her face paling. “But I thought this evening - everything you have
done! I thought that.....”

 “Forgive me,” he said,
“but I think you have read into the invitation a little more than I intended.”