Chapter 4 Frontier Taste

Scarlett’s POV (Now)

Naomi had the gown off the table before I finished saying I'd wear it. It was the one I'd kept that morning.

The sleeves hung past my knuckles, and the waist sat too low. When I lifted my arms, the bodice shifted with them.

"I look like I stole it," I said.

"Hold still. Let me see what I can do."

She straightened the shoulders and adjusted the collar. The court hairpins were still where I'd left them, but she passed them and opened the bundle from Redcliff. She brought out my old silver pins, dulled and worn smooth where they'd rubbed against my hair. I'd worn them to every feast at home. I was glad she'd found them, even if nobody here would recognize them.

"Those," I said. "Not the others."

She put them in while I held still, looking at the wall.

"Eleven names," I said. "And still no day."

"You could ask him again."

"I've already asked him."

She pulled the sash tight enough that I had to draw in a breath. I wanted to ask whether she'd heard anything about her family, but I hadn't forgotten her face when she'd read the list. If there had been news, surely she would have told me. I waited while she loosened the sash a little, then followed her out.

A servant bowed as we passed. It was a brief dip of the head, less than I'd expected for a prince's future wife. I kept walking. I didn't know whether that was how people bowed here, and I wasn't going to stop and ask.

The stairs were harder. I kept one hand on the wall and lowered myself carefully from step to step, trying not to put too much weight on my right knee.

"Naomi. Slower."

She slowed, and I caught up with her before the doors opened. Inside, the room was bright and crowded, the tables covered with food. Someone announced me, but the conversations continued.

My seat was the one marked on the paper I'd turned face down that morning. I held the table until I'd lowered myself onto the chair, then eased my right leg into a position I could bear.

There was an empty chair between Edward and me. I glanced at it, wondering whether he'd left me space or whether somebody else was supposed to sit there. I didn't want to ask him across it.

His boots were clean tonight. Someone had apparently had time to see to him since this morning.

Across the table, two places farther up, sat a man who received the deepest bows from everyone who entered. I guessed he was Thomas. I'd heard the heir's name all my life, but had never seen him.

When someone addressed him by name, I knew I'd been right. He'd already smiled at me once, before the others sat down, and from his chair he could watch me without turning his head.

I watched the people arriving, noticing who was greeted and who had to wait to be acknowledged. When someone spoke across another guest as though they weren't there, I looked to see whether anyone objected. No one did.

Two courses passed without anyone mentioning the war. They talked about the weather, the roads and whether a tax would be paid in grain. In front of me was venison in a dark, sweet sauce.

At home, I would have fought Naomi for the last piece. Here I kept cutting it smaller, unable to bring myself to eat. I didn't want anyone asking about Redcliff while I had a mouthful of food, or noticing if my hand shook when I lifted my fork.

I put down my knife. During a lull as the servants changed plates, I could hear the clatter of cutlery at the lower tables.

The woman on Thomas's left looked at my hairpins and smiled.

"How very frontier."

The two people beside her laughed. I set down my cup before I could decide whether answering would make things worse.

"Say that again."

Edward put down his knife. Several conversations stopped as the woman repeated herself, without the smile this time. By the time she'd finished, the table was quiet. I looked at her and waited, but she added nothing.

Thomas was peeling a fig with his thumbnail.

"Brother, settle something for me," he said, still looking at me. "Does Redcliff accept the new order? Or has it only sent us its daughter? Alpha Redcliff never gave up an inch of ground in his life."

I hadn't been able to finish my dinner, and he was talking about my dead father while he peeled a fig. I put my hand flat on the table.

"I came. That doesn't mean my father agreed to anything."

Thomas smiled and ate the fig. I couldn't tell whether he'd expected me to answer, but I wished he'd say something instead of leaving me sitting there waiting. I lowered my hand into my lap and held it against my good leg.

Edward didn't ask me to take it back.

"The terms were set out in the agreement," he said. "If you want to discuss them, we can do it another time."

He asked someone farther down the table about the harvest. Gradually the conversations resumed. I glanced at him twice, but both times he was looking elsewhere. I didn't know whether he was angry with me. I wished I could stop wondering long enough to eat.

I waited until most of the guests had left before pushing myself up from the chair. With my right hand on the table, I shifted my weight onto my left leg and stood still until I was sure my knee would hold.

Edward was in the corridor beyond the turn. He might have been waiting for me, though he hadn't said he would. Naomi saw him and fell back several steps, stopping outside the pool of lamplight with her hands folded. I looked back at her, then continued toward him.

I'd been using the wall for support. As I approached him, I caught myself taking my hand away and put it back. There was no point making my knee worse just because he was watching.

"Did you mean to provoke her?" he asked.

"No. I didn't stop to think." I straightened a little. "And I can't listen to them talk about my father like that."

I waited for him to tell me what I should have said, or what his brother would expect him to do about it. I was already trying to decide how much of an argument I could bear while standing there.

"You cut up everything on your plate," he said, "and didn't eat any of it."

I'd looked at him twice without catching him watching me. Apparently he'd noticed anyway.

"Next time, eat first."

I nearly laughed, then bit the inside of my cheek. "You're very free with your orders."

"They'll remember what you said tonight."

"Is that a warning?"

"I'm telling you what to expect."

He went past me down the corridor. I had been ready to defend myself, and now I wasn't sure whether he'd meant to scold me at all. I watched him go until Naomi came forward and took my arm.

We walked back slowly enough for my knee. Neither of us mentioned Edward or whether he'd been waiting there for me.

There was food on the table when we returned, and the room was warm. I sat down without taking off the gown. Before picking up my fork, I touched the plate. It was hot, and the venison was in the same dark sauce they'd served at dinner.

"How did you manage this?"

"It was kept warm," Naomi said.

She went to the cupboard and began rearranging things she'd already put away. I wanted to know who'd thought to save the food, but she hadn't answered when I'd asked how she'd managed it. I left the question alone and began to eat. Now that I was back in my room, I was hungry enough to eat faster than I would have at the table downstairs.

Halfway through the meal, I noticed I'd been looking at the door.