Part 9
"Who Bears The Ring"
As much as Agatha and Jacintha had
discussed and speculated over the dramatic events of the previous
night, things were even further rumored and dissected, no matter
where Stella went.
At the butcher’s, she overheard two
women talking about the second day, and how they planned to catch Don
Henrik’s eye—maybe even Lord Sigmund himself, though he must be
very old indeed, for as long as he had presided over the Drakistos
family. At the baker’s, all the talk among the pastries was about
the “golden princess” and where she might come from, and what she
intended by showing up unexpectedly and insinuating herself into the
ruling family. Stella spoke as little as possible, and did her best
to remain inconspicuous.
As she roved among the stalls of fresh
garden produce from the many farms around the area, her ears caught
wind of another announcement.
“What do you think of this whole ring
business, Dermia?” asked a woman inspecting fruit right next to
Stella.
Dermia sniffed in response. “Oh, Nico
received that letter this morning. We can’t make heads or tails of
it. What ring are we supposed to have? Certainly I have never even
seen anything remotely resembling the Drakistos Crest on display—and
if anyone in my family had somehow managed to purchase it, well! More
foolish of them, I suppose!”
Stella fought to keep her focus on
picking up the necessary items for Jacintha’s party, but the
comments sent her mind into a tumult. A ring resembling the Drakistos
crest? What ring could that possibly be except the one she now hid?
How had Henrik noticed her wearing it? If he had, why hadn’t he
said anything about it?
A little ways beyond, an herb-seller
turned to the flower vendor next to him and remarked, “Have you
ever heard of the like? They’re saying that if the citizens of
Kadros fail to produce this Ring everybody’s talking about, the
Family will invoke the Drakistos Rule, starting at the ones with the
least connection and working their way up!”
“That means nothing to me,” said
the flower-seller in a thick, foreign accent. “I am only here
selling flowers to afford passage to Malta. I know nothing about the
Rules Governor Drakistos uses on the residents of Kadros.”
“You’re lucky,” the herb-seller
replied. “For those who live here, there is only one Rule: a
request from anyone connected to the Drakistos name cannot be
refused.”
Stella paid for the assortment of
vegetables and fruit she collected and moved on. The reference to the
Drakistos Rule reminded her of confronting Jacintha about the dream
she’d had, of the other Nadia and the circumstances surrounding the
birth of her daughter, and Stella’s cheeks had begun to smart at
the recollection of how Jacintha slapped her for implying that Agatha
had been that infant…
But what if it had been her instead?
The thought swept through Stella’s
mind like a sharp winter gust, bringing her to a dead halt in the
middle of the road.
Could it be?
Was that the reason Jacintha had
seen fit to dispose of every servant… except Stella? Because,
according to the Drakistos Rule… Jacintha couldn’t risk
turning Stella out of the house?
Her heart began to thump wildly in her
chest as certain vital pieces of information fell into place.
If she was really Nadia’s daughter,
why did that make her so important to the Drakistos family? And if
she was connected to the Drakistos family, why did Jacintha try so
hard to hide it?
Speaking of hiding… Stella’s
thoughts immediately went to the Ring. If everybody knew about the
Ring and its description, everybody would be searching for
it—including Jacintha, since she would be one of the first to be
cut off, being neither friend nor blood relation to the Drakistos
family. And if Jacintha already knew that Stella was secretly
connected to the Family anyway, that could mean that she might
reasonably suspect—
Stella clutched the shopping basket
tight as she ran back to the villa as fast as she could. Silently,
she crept into the kitchen, deposited the basket, and climbed the
steps to the main floor. At every moment, she expected to see
Jacintha and Agatha, poised and waiting to confront her about the
Ring, just to see her cringe and squirm and make her feel worthless
about attempting to fool everyone into thinking she was anything
special. The stillness sent chills down her spine. On the table in
the front hall, in the tray reserved for calling cards, she found a
note.
Stella—We have gone calling. We
will return in the evening. –Jacintha
Stella felt some of the building
tension relax, but not completely. While it meant that the women were
not at the house, she could not rule out the fact that she had been
discovered. Not until she knew. Stella headed straight for the
cellar, where she had concealed both the dress and the ring.
The chest once containing the dress
stood open and empty, and the contents of the pouch lay strewn among
the ashes and coal dust. Stella felt her legs give way, and she
collapsed to her knees. The shopping trip had been a ruse. What would
happen to her, now that the two cruelest people in Kadros had
discovered her secret?
>>>>>>>>>>
The guards at the gate surrounding the
governor’s mansion watched the elegant woman descend from the
simple one-horse chaise, followed closely by a younger woman in an
ornate (if rather ill-fitting) gold-embroidered dress. The two looked
alike enough to be mother and daughter, and indeed, the older woman
held up the hand of the younger so that the ring worn by the latter
would be clearly visible in the afternoon sun. At a signal from the
guard-house, Sir Travis himself met the pair upon entering.
“Who might you be?” he asked the
women.
The mother cleared her throat. “I am
Jacintha Farfalle, widow of the late Giorgio Farfalle, who fought in
battle alongside Arthur Drakistos, our representative before His
Lordship.”
Sir Travis looked at the girl; he could
recognize her round face. She had definitely been in attendance last
night, and he definitely remembered young Henrik paying particular
attention to a young lady in the very same golden dress—but the
longer he looked, the more it became obvious to his practiced eye
that the dress didn’t quite fit the girl, as if it had been made
for someone else.
Lady Jacintha advanced urgently. “It
is imperative that we hold an audience with Lord Sigmund
Drakistos—for you see, it so happens that my daughter Agatha here
is the bride he seeks for his son Henrik. Look!” She held up
Agatha’s hand. “She even wears the Ring of Drakistos His Lordship
has asked for!”
Sir Travis stared at the relic. He had
never seen it in person, but Lord Sigmund had certainly described it
to him often enough over the years that he could not doubt that it
was, indeed, the all-important Ring that would cure the strange
malady affecting him and his son. At least he could be sure of that,
whether or not this pale-faced, uncomfortable debutante was the true
Bride they needed. That would be for Lord Sigmund to decide,
concluded Sir Travis.
He gave a courtly bow and gestured to
the house. “If you would follow me, Lady Jacintha, I will conduct
you into His Lordship’s presence personally.”
Lady Jacintha smiled and pulled her
daughter along, as they entered the house together.
Striding into the Great Hall, where
Lord Sigmund waited (wearing a powdered wig and heavy robes to hide
his renewed appearance), Sir Travis dutifully announced, “Your
Lordship, may I present Lady Jacintha Farfalle and her daughter
Agatha, the professed Bride of Drakistos and the bearer of the Ring
of Drakistos!”
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