I believe she is working on a new variety, your majesty.
Splicing together lines, no doubt, the Dowager mused, setting her cup down.
Angelica found herself wondering at the point of all of this. She sincerely doubted that the kingdoms ruler had called her here just to discuss minor details of her familys life. If she ruled, Angelica certainly wouldnt care about something so pointless. Angelica barely paid attention when letters came from her parents estates.
Am I boring you, my dear? the Dowager asked.
No, of course not, your majesty, Angelica said hurriedly. Thanks to the civil wars, the days might have gone when the kingdoms royalty could simply imprison nobles without trial, but it still wasnt a good idea to risk insulting them.
Because I was under the impression that you found my family fascinating, the Dowager continued. My younger son in particular.
Angelica froze, unsure what to say next. She should have guessed that a mother would notice her interest in Sebastian. Was that what this was then? A polite suggestion that she should leave him alone?
Im not sure what you mean, Angelica replied, deciding that her best option was to play the part of the coy young noble girl. Prince Sebastian is obviously very handsome, but
But your attempt to sedate him and claim him for your own didnt go as planned? the Dowager asked, and now there was steel in her voice. Did you think I wouldnt hear about that little ploy?
Now, Angelica could feel the fear inside her building. The Dowager might not simply be able to order her death, but that was what an assault like that on a royal person could mean, even with a trial of her noble peers. Maybe especially with them, since there would undoubtedly be those who wanted to set an example, or get her out of the way, or settle some score with her family.
Your majesty Angelica began, but the Dowager cut her off with a single raised finger. Instead of speaking, though, she took her time draining her cup, then tossed it into the fireplace, the porcelain shattering with a crack that made Angelica think of breaking bones.
An attack upon my son is treason, the Dowager said. An attempt to manipulate me, and to steal my son into marriage, is treason. Traditionally, that is rewarded by the Mask of Lead.
Angelicas gut clenched at the thought of it. It was a horrific punishment from another time, and not one that shed ever seen enacted. It was said that people killed themselves just at the thought of it.
Are you familiar with it? the Dowager asked. The traitor is encased in a metal mask, and molten lead is poured inside. A terrible death, but sometimes terror is useful. And, of course, it allows for a cast of their face to be taken and displayed for all to see afterwards as a reminder.
She took something from beside her chair. It looked like just one of the many masks that were always around the court with the worship of the Masked Goddess. This one could have been the impression of a face though. A terrified, agonized face.
Allan of Courcer decided to rise against the crown, the Dowager said. We hanged most of his men cleanly, but with him, we made an example. I still remember the screams. Its funny how these things linger.
Angelica fell from her chair to her knees almost bonelessly, looking up at the other woman.
Please, your majesty, she begged, because right then, begging seemed like her only option. Please, Ill do anything.
Anything? the Dowager said. Anything is a big word. What if I wanted you to hand over your family lands, or serve as a spy in the courts of this New Army that seems to be coming out of the continental wars? What if I decided that you should go and serve your penance in one of the Far Colonies?
Angelica looked at that terrified death mask, and knew that there was only one answer.
Anything, your majesty. Just please, not that.
She hated being like this. She was one of the foremost nobles in the land, yet here and now she felt as helpless as the lowest cottar.
What about if I wanted you to marry my son? the Dowager asked.
Angelica stared at her blankly, the words making no sense. If the other woman had said that she was giving her a chest of gold and sending her on her way it would have made more sense than this did.
Your majesty?
Dont just kneel there opening and closing your mouth like a fish, the other woman said. In fact, sit back down. At least try to look like the sort of refined young lady my son should be marrying.
Angelica forced herself back into her chair. Even so, she felt faint. Im not sure I understand.
The Dowager steepled her fingers. There is little enough to understand. I am in need of someone suitable to marry my son. You are beautiful enough, from a family of sufficient standing, well connected at court, and it seems obvious enough from your little plot that you are interested in the role. It is an arrangement that seems highly beneficial to all concerned, wouldnt you agree?
Angelica managed to collect herself a little. Yes, your majesty. But
It is certainly preferable to the alternatives, the Dowager said, her finger brushing the death mask. In every sense.
Put like that, Angelica had no choice. I would be happy to, your majesty.
Your happiness is not my primary concern, the Dowager snapped back. The well-being of my son and the safety of this realm are. You will not jeopardize either one, or there will be a reckoning.
Angelica didnt have to ask what kind of reckoning. Right then, she could feel the thread of terror running through her. She hated that. She hated this old hag who could make even something she wanted feel like a threat.
What about Sebastian? Angelica asked. From what I saw at the ball, his interests are elsewhere.
With the red-haired girl who claimed to be from Meinhalt, but who didnt behave like any noble Angelica had met.
That will no longer be a problem, the Dowager said.
Even so, if hes still hurt
The other woman fixed her with an even gaze. Sebastian will do his duty, to both the realm and his family. He will marry who he is required to marry, and we will make it into a joyous occasion.
Yes, your majesty, Angelica said, lowering her gaze demurely. Once she was married to Sebastian, perhaps she wouldnt have to bow and scrape like this. For now, though, she behaved as she had to. I shall write to my father at once.
The Dowager waved that away. I have already done so, and Robert has been delighted to accept. The arrangements for the wedding are already underway. I understand from the couriers that your mother fainted at the news, but then, she always was of a delicate disposition. I trust that it is not a trait you will pass to my grandchildren.
She made it sound like a disease to be expunged. Angelica found herself more annoyed by the way everything had just been put in place without her knowledge. Even so, she did her best to show the gratitude she knew was expected of her.
Thank you, your majesty, she said. I will strive to be the best daughter-in-law that you could hope for.
Just remember that becoming my daughter buys you no special favor, the Dowager said. You have been selected to perform a task, and you will do so to my satisfaction.
I will strive to make Sebastian happy, Angelica said.
The Dowager stood. See that you do. Make him so happy that he can think of nothing else. Make him happy enough to drive thoughts of others from his mind. Make him happy, give him children, do all that the wife of a prince should do. If you do all that, your future will be a happy one as well.
I will strive to make Sebastian happy, Angelica said.
The Dowager stood. See that you do. Make him so happy that he can think of nothing else. Make him happy enough to drive thoughts of others from his mind. Make him happy, give him children, do all that the wife of a prince should do. If you do all that, your future will be a happy one as well.
Angelicas temper wouldnt allow her to let that go. And if I do not?
The Dowager looked at her as if she were nothing, rather than one of the greatest nobles in the land.
You are trying to be strong in the hopes that I will respect you as some kind of equal, she said. Perhaps you hope that I will see something of myself in you, Angelica. Perhaps I even do, but that is hardly a good thing. I want you to remember one thing from this moment on: I own you.
No, you
The slap wasnt hard. It wouldnt leave a mark that would show. It barely even stung, except in terms of Angelicas pride. There, it burned.
I own you as surely as if I had bought the indenture of some girl, the Dowager repeated. If you fail me in any way, I will destroy you for what you tried to do to my son. The only reason you are here and not in a cell is because you are more useful to me like this.
As a wife for your son, Angelica pointed out.
As that, and as a distraction for him, the Dowager replied. You did say you would do anything. Just let me know if you have changed your mind.
And then there would be the most horrific death Angelica could imagine.
No, I thought not. You will be the perfect wife. You will be the perfect mother in time. You will tell me of any problems. You will obey my commands. If you fail in any of these things, the Mask of Lead will seem tame in comparison to what will happen to you.
CHAPTER SIX
They dragged Sophia outside, pulling at her even though she was walking under her own power. She was too numb to do anything else, too weak to even think about fighting. The nuns were delivering her on her new owners orders. They might as well have wrapped her up like a new hat or a side of beef.
When Sophia saw the cart, then she tried to struggle, but it made no difference. It was a big, gaudy thing, painted like the wagon of some circus or troupe of players. The bars proclaimed it as what it was though: the holding wagon of a slaver.
The nuns dragged her to it and opened up the back, pulling back big bolts that couldnt be accessed from the inside.
A sinful thing like you deserves to be in a place like this, one of the nuns said.
The other one laughed. You think shes sinful now? Give her a year or two of being used by every man with the coin for her.
Sophia had a brief glimpse of cowering figures as the nuns threw the door open. Frightened eyes looked up at her, and she saw half a dozen other girls huddled on the hard wood. Then they shoved her inside, sending her tumbling among them with no room to gather herself.
The door slammed shut with a clang of metal on metal. The noise of the bolts was worse, proclaiming Sophias helplessness in a scrape of rust and iron.
The other girls scrambled back from her while she tried to find a space there. Sophias talent gave her their fear. They were worried that she would still be violent, the way the dark-eyed girl in the corner had been, or that she would scream until Meister Karg beat all of them, the way the girl with the bruises around her mouth had.
Im not going to hurt any of you, Sophia said. Im Sophia.
Things that might have been names were murmured back to her in the half light of the prison cart, too quiet for Sophia to catch most of them. Her power let her get the rest, but right then she was too wrapped up in her own misery to care much.
A day ago, things had been so different. Shed been happy. Shed been ensconced in the palace, preparing for her wedding, not locked in a cage. Shed been surrounded by servants and helpers, not frightened girls. Shed had fine dresses, not rags, and safety rather than the lingering pain of a beating.
Shed had the prospect of spending her life with Sebastian, not being used by a succession of men.
There was nothing she could do. Nothing but sit there, looking out of the gaps in the bars now, watching as Meister Karg walked out of the orphanage with a smug expression. He sauntered to the cart, then hauled himself up into the driving seat with a groan of effort. Sophia heard the crack of a whip, and she flinched instinctively after everything that had happened to her at the hands of Sister OVenn, her body expecting pain even as the cart rumbled into life.
It crawled through Ashtons streets, the wooden wheels jolting as they found the holes between the cobbles there. Sophia saw the houses passing by at barely the pace of a walking man, the wagon in no hurry to get to its destination. That should have been a good thing, in a way, but it seemed then just like a way of drawing out her misery, taunting her and the others with their inability to escape the wagon.
Sophia saw people passing by, moving out of the way of the wagon only in the way that they moved aside for other large carts capable of crushing them. A few glanced at it, but they made no comment. They certainly made no move to stop it or to help the girls within. What did it say about a place like Ashton that this counted as normal?
A fat baker paused to watch them pass. A couple stepped back away from the tire ruts. Children were pulled close by their mothers, or ran up to stare inside on dares from their friends. Men looked in with considering expressions, as though wondering if they could afford any of the girls there. Sophia forced herself to glare back at them, daring them to meet her eyes.
She wished that Sebastian were there. No one else in this city would help her, but she knew that even after everything that had happened, Sebastian would throw the doors open and get her out. At least, she hoped he would. Shed seen the embarrassment on his face when hed found out what Sophia was. Maybe he would look away too and pretend not to see her.
Sophia hoped not, because she could see some of what was waiting for her and the others, waiting in Meister Kargs mind like a toad for her. He planned to pick up more girls on his way to a waiting ship that would ferry them across the water to his home city, where there was a brothel that dealt in such exotic girls. He always needed new ones, because the men there paid well for the chance to do what they wanted with the fresh arrivals.
Just thinking about it made Sophia feel nauseous, although maybe that had something to do with the constant rolling of the cart as well. Did the nuns know what theyd sold her into? She knew the answer to that: of course they did. Theyd joked about it, and about the fact that she would never be free, because there would be no way for her to ever pay off the debt theyd imposed on her.
It meant a lifetime of slavery in everything but name, forced to do whatever her fat, perfumed owner wanted until she was no longer worth anything to him. He might let her go then, but only because it was easier to let her starve than to keep her. Sophia wanted to believe that she would kill herself before she let all of that happen to her, but the truth was that she would probably obey. Hadnt she obeyed for years while the nuns abused her?
The cart ground to a halt, but Sophia wasnt foolish enough to believe that they had reached any kind of final destination. Instead, they had stopped outside a hat makers shop, and Meister Karg went inside without so much as a glance back at his charges.
Sophia rushed forward, trying to find a way to get to the bolts outside the bars. She reached through the gaps of the wagons sides, but there was simply no way to reach the lock from where she was.