Chapter 7 – Entanglement

There. There she was.

On the other side of the gathering, partially hidden behind a wooden pillar, stood Innogen.

She wore a deep sapphire blue dress that made her golden hair shine. It was artfully pinned up, with small pearls glistening in it like dewdrops. She stood with two other young ladies, a Montfort and a Farnsworth, Valentina thought, and nodded politely to their conversation.

But the tension in her shoulders gave her away. The way her fingers played with the fabric of her dress. It was a nervous habit that Valentina knew from countless exams they had taken together.

As if she had sensed Valentina’s gaze, Innogen turned her head slightly.

Their eyes met across the room.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The murmur of the crowd faded, the movements of the other nobles became blurred shadows. There were only those blue eyes, which said so much that words could not.

Longing. Fear. A desperate question.

“Breathe,” Vyxara urged gently. “There are people watching.”

Valentina forced herself to look away, as if it had been just a chance meeting of glances. But her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure everyone must hear it.

Innogen also turned away, saying something to her companions that made them laugh. But the blush on her cheeks revealed that she, too, had not remained untouched.

“Official business is concluded for today,” announced a herald. “The lords, prelates, and commons are requested to return tomorrow at the ninth hour to continue the official session. The first round of the tournament will begin tomorrow afternoon on the tournament grounds.”

The assembly began to disperse, nobles streaming toward the exits. Conversations about the evening’s entertainment mingled with speculation about the tournament.

“Lord Montfort is hosting a reception tonight,” Valentina heard a lady say. “Nothing big, just the more important families in the north.”

“The Devereux have invited us to a banquet tomorrow,” added another. “After the first day of tournament is over.”

Duchess Rosalind gathered her ladies with a small gesture. “Time to go. The duke still has a full evening ahead of him.”

Valentina followed obediently but glanced back one last time. Yet Innogen had already disappeared into the crowd.

The ride back to the Greystone townhouse was mostly silent. Lady Beatrice dozed lightly, and Duchess Rosalind stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts.

“That was way too intense,” Vyxara murmured in Valentina’s mind. “The look between you two… if anyone observant saw that…”

“No one saw anything,” Valentina thought back firmly. “It was just a moment.”

“A moment that spoke volumes. You need to talk to each other.”

“I know.”

“And what are you going to say?”

Valentina had no answer. What could she say? That Innogen’s kiss had thrown her completely off balance? That she didn’t know what she was feeling? That the complications of their whole situation made everything just seem so impossible? That she didn’t want to lose Innogen under any circumstances?

“The tournament will be thrilling,” Vyxara tactfully changed the subject. “So much masculinity in one place. Men who want to prove themselves to each other. And a hundred gold crowns as bait.”

“Lorenzo won’t be participating,” Valentina suddenly thought. “He’s not a knight, just a lord.”

“Are you sure? He might surprise you. Men do strange things when they feel they have to prove themselves. Especially when they know certain eyes will be watching.”

The implication was clear. Lorenzo knew Innogen would be there. His soon-to-be betrothed. Would he try to impress her?

And why, Valentina wondered with a pang of jealousy she didn’t quite understand, did the thought bother her so much?

“I was actually thinking that maybe he wants to impress you,” said Vyxara, laughing in her mind.

“He can’t dedicate a victory to me, Vyxara. I’m not a noble lady.”

“That didn’t bother him when he spilled his seed inside you.”

Valentina grimaced. “You’re terribly vulgar sometimes, Vyxara.”

“I have to distract you somehow.”

Valentina sighed.

The duchess turned to her. “Is everything all right, Valentina?”

“Yes, Your Gra-, Rosalind!” she hastened to say. “It was just… exhausting.”

Duchess Rosalind simply nodded in agreement. “It certainly was. Fortunately, our evening will be a little quieter.”

As soon as the carriage stopped in the courtyard of the Greystone townhouse, the group’s stern demeanor relaxed considerably.

“Finally,” Valentina sighed as Margaret helped her remove the heavy layers of her court dress.

“This formal attire is like armor, isn’t it, Milady?” Margaret agreed sympathetically.

Valentina just nodded, too exhausted for many words. The blue-grey dress was carefully pulled over her head. Valentina groaned with relief.

“The simpler evening gown, please, Margaret,” she instructed, while Alice was already undoing her hair from the complicated knot.

The lavender-grey dress Margaret brought out was still elegant, but much more comfortable. No excessive embellishments, no exaggerated layers, just soft fabric that nestled comfortably against her body.

“Better?” Vyxara asked with a hint of amusement.

“Infinitely better,” Valentina allowed herself to murmur quietly.

“The duke is dining with the Earl of Redpool and several other gentlemen tonight,” Margaret informed her as she fastened the last buttons. “The Duchess is expecting you and Lady Beatrice in the small dining room.”

The small dining room was indeed intimate. Just an oval table for six, warm candlelight instead of the brighter Essence lamps, and a pleasant evening breeze blowing through the open windows.

Duchess Rosalind had also changed, now wearing a simple lavender-colored house dress. Lady Beatrice was dressed in a muted brown tone, her hair loosely pinned up. Both women seemed much more relaxed than they had been during the whole day.

“Ah, Valentina,” the duchess greeted her. “Sit down. After a day like this, we deserve a proper meal.”

The servants brought the first course, a light vegetable soup with fresh herbs. Only when they had withdrawn did the real conversation begin.

“You did exceptionally well today,” Rosalind said as she spooned her soup. “Getting the king’s attention is always a double-edged sword, but you handled it with grace.”

“Lady Agatha was definitely impressed,” Beatrice added. “And that’s saying something. She has a reputation for being very demanding.”

“What do you think of today’s developments?” asked the duchess, her green eyes fixed intently on Valentina.

“The king seems… very determined,” Valentina replied cautiously. “The hints about trade routes and new lands were barely veiled.”

Rosalind smiled thinly. “Indeed. My husband is convinced that within a few years…” She fell silent, then shook her head. “But that’s speculation for the gentlemen.”

“Speaking of speculation,” Beatrice said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I overheard some interesting conversations today.”

“Now it’s getting interesting,” Vyxara murmured.

“The Scorchbishop,” Beatrice lowered her voice conspiratorially, “has apparently been caught with yet another prostitute. This time in his carriage, if the rumors are to be believed.”

“The man preaches abstinence and can’t control himself even for a day like this,” Rosalind snorted. “I’m not sure there’s a prostitute in Vandercourt left he hasn’t mounted yet.”

“There’s at least one,” laughed Vyxara, causing Valentina’s cheeks to flush, which in turn made Vyxara’s giggling in her mind even more uncontrollable.

“The Duke of Southwatch is working hard to forge an alliance against the proposed military levy,” Beatrice continued as the second course, roast chicken with summer vegetables, was served. “And he argues that the threat from pirates is being exaggerated.”

“Of course he does,” murmured the duchess. “His own ships are involved in piracy.”

“Oh, and the Darkmoore situation is coming to a head as well,” Beatrice added. “The Duke of Mirkshire continues to refuse to pay church tithes since his son Crispin took his vows.”

Valentina froze at the mention of Crispin’s name, but of course it wasn’t her Crispin Gillespie they were talking about, but the Darkmoore son of the same name.

“Two Crispins, both of whom have fled into the arms of the church,” Vyxara remarked dryly. “Either it’s a very unlucky name, or the church has a special attraction for Crispins.”

Valentina just sighed inwardly.

After poached pears in red wine were served for dessert, Valentina noticed that the duchess discreetly gave a signal with her little finger, and Lady Beatrice rose. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day. I’m going to retire.”

She curtsied to the duchess and nodded to Valentina, then left the room.

Rosalind waited until the footsteps had faded away, then turned directly to Valentina. “I think Lorenzo did very well today, by the way. He struck the right balance between modesty and self-confidence, don’t you think?”

“She’s testing you,” Vyxara warned.

“Lord Lorenzo is a remarkable young man,” Valentina replied neutrally.

The Duchess nodded and then looked at her for a long moment. “Valentina, I know this must be a difficult situation for you.” She stood up. “I am confident that you will overcome this difficulty. Discretion is not just a virtue for virtue’s sake at court, it is essential for survival. Good night, Valentina.”

With that, she left the room as well.

“That woman sees much more than she admits,” Vyxara murmured.

Valentina sat alone in the small dining room for a while, staring at the flickering candles. The day had been overwhelming, but it was not over yet. She fully expected Cosimo to come to her chambers later.

It was almost midnight when there was a soft knock at her door. Valentina had already put on her nightgown and was sitting by the window, looking out at the sleeping city.

“Come in,” she said softly.

Duke Cosimo entered, still in his evening attire, but with the top buttons of his doublet undone. The smell of wine surrounded him like a cloud, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“My brilliant girl,” he murmured as he closed the door behind him and approached her.

He pulled her up from the chair and into his arms, his kiss tasting of red wine. His hands were everywhere, and they were impatient.

“Everything is going perfectly,” he whispered against her neck as he pushed her toward the bed. “Montfort is on board. Even some of the Whitehall allies are showing interest.”

His fingers tugged at her nightgown, pulling it over her head. “And you,” he pushed her onto the bed, following her immediately, “you impressed the king. And Lady Agatha. Do you know what that means?”

Valentina gasped as he entered her without warning. “What… does it mean?”

“It means,” he gasped between violent movements, “that you have the chance for further social advancement. The king appoints only the best to the Order of the Primrose, and its members are equal to knights.”

“My goodness, he’s drunk with power and wine,” Vyxara remarked.

Valentina let herself be carried away by his passion, returning his kisses, digging her nails into his back. It was easier to lose herself in the physical sensation than to think about the emotional turmoil of the day.

Cosimo finished quickly, but he remained on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress as his manhood slowly went limp inside her.

“In two years, maybe three,” he murmured against her shoulder, “the realm will be more than twice as large. The followers of House Pendite in Clairmontine will be completely taken by surprise once old Hugo kicks the bucket and Edmund can assert his claim. The king has a plan, a brilliant plan.”

“Tell me about it,” Valentina whispered, stroking his sweaty hair.

“Piracy is a good excuse to expand the fleet,” he explained lazily. “Freebooting nobles from West Clairmontine are enriching themselves at our expense, and King Hugo can’t call them to order because he’s too old and weak. But he is Edmund’s grandfather…” He laughed softly. “And as soon as he’s gone and his three nephews are fighting over the throne, Edmund will strike.”

“Just as we suspected,” Vyxara gloated. “Edmund is a cunning dog.”

“And you,” Cosimo raised his head and looked at her with glassy but intense eyes, “you will be at my side then. My personal healer. My secret weapon.”

He kissed her again, deeply and possessively, and she felt his manhood grow inside her once more. With gentle pressure, he motioned for her to turn around, which she did, supporting herself on her hands and knees while he took her again from behind with powerful thrusts.

After he came inside her again a long while later, and this time Valentina also reached climax, he finally rolled off her and stood up, swaying. “I should go. I really need to get a few hours of sleep.” He dressed hastily and kissed her one last time. “Sleep well, my wonderful girl.”

When the door closed behind him, Valentina lay still in the dark. The smell of wine and sex hung heavy in the air, and Valentina lolled exhausted in bed, but she forced herself to get up and go to the washbasin.

The cool water on her skin was a shock, but a welcome one. She washed herself thoroughly between her legs, removing his seed from her body.

“A really busy day,” Vyxara summed up. “Secret war plans, lots of nobles trying to maneuver themselves into the right position, and in the middle of it all, the whole personal drama.”

“And tomorrow the tournament begins,” Valentina whispered into the darkness.

“Maybe that will be an opportunity to talk to Innogen. You have to talk to her sooner or later.”

“I know, Vyxara. Don’t push me.”

She crawled back into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin. The day had been truly overwhelming and terribly exhausting.

“You know, I’m really amazed at how well you’re growing into your role,” Vyxara remarked thoughtfully. “The duke would have really-“

“I’m tired, Vyxara.”

“Sleep well, little Weaver.”