An hour later, Elda hurried into the dining hall. The duke and his family were already seated at the table. Too late, Elda thought. She grasped the skirt of her red dress, lifted it slightly, and offered a polite bow.

“Greetings, Eldryssa,” the duke said in a stern voice. “How lovely of you to grace us with your presence.” He had changed out of his travel clothes into an elegant black tunic. The fabric was woven with a silver pattern, and the hems were adorned with golden roses. The sleeves flared wide, and underneath the tunic he wore an ivory-colored shirt.

The duchess, too, had changed. She now wore a well-fitted, cobalt-blue dress made of heavy velvet, with a red leather waistbelt and hip girdle. Her hair was loose now, cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders.

Mortain was still wearing the same tunic, which made Elda feel she hadn’t dressed up for nothing.

“Take a seat.” With a subtle gesture, Deiniol pointed to the spot across from Mortain. “Dinner will be served shortly,” he continued. He and Karyn sat side by side at the head of the table. Mortain was seated to his father's right, and Elda was invited to sit next to the duchess.

“Mortain was just telling us about his sword lessons,” the duchess said with a sideways smile at Elda as she took her seat. “Go on, Mortain.”

"Right. As I was saying, I’m improving steadily. Just last week, I managed to disarm Lord Ansel. He said I’m finally becoming a proper swordsman."

“And how’s the archery coming along?” his father asked, fiddling with the rings on his thumb.

“That’s improving too, Father. Yesterday I trained with the master huntsman, and I didn’t miss the target once. That’s never happened before.”

“Excellent, my boy!”

“Has Mortain told you how many arrows he landed in the bullseye?” Elda blurted out.

The duke turned his gaze toward her, clearly surprised. “Well?”

“Four, Father! I hit the center of the target four times.” His eyes darted toward Elda, and she returned his look with a smile.

“Well, well! Did you hear that, Karyn? Our son might just become a true marksman.”

Karyn’s eyes sparkled. “Soon we’ll be served meat hunted by our own son,” she said playfully.

“That day might not be far off. In fact, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about,” said the duke with a satisfied smile.

“You mean–?” asked Mortain, eyes wide.

“The day after tomorrow there will be a hunt. It’s time you join us.”

Karyn turned her head sharply toward her husband. “Do you really think that’s a wise idea?” she asked in a pointed tone.

The duke looked at his wife with raised eyebrows. “Why not? You heard him yourself, he shoots brilliantly.”

“He’s far too young. Something could happen to him.”

“The huntsman thinks he’s ready to join.”

“I don’t care what the huntsman thinks. Our son could end up skewered on a wild boar’s tusks.”

Mortain’s eyes widened, and Elda thought she saw him shiver. He glanced back and forth between his father and mother.

“Well now, no one is getting skewered by a boar.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Nothing will happen, Karyn. The huntsman and his men will be there, along with the counts and barons.”

The duchess looked at her husband tensely. Their eyes locked for a while before she finally spoke again. “We’ll talk about this later.” She straightened her back and folded her hands on the table. It was clear the conversation would continue another time.

After that, silence fell, and Elda felt the tension in the air. She wanted to say something to ease it, but couldn’t think of anything.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to. The doors to the dining hall opened, and the servants entered with the food. A generous dinner was brought in. A stew of carrots and parsnips filled the room with a warm, pleasant aroma. A roasted duck, richly basted and seasoned, was placed on the table. The company sat in silence as the food was served and the berry juice and wine were poured.

The duke was served first, after which the rest received their meals as well. The tension from earlier in the day almost slipped from Elda’s shoulders. Almost, but not quite.

Across from her, Mortain had his attention fixed on his plate. For now, he seemed content with the silence.

In the courtyard, he had promised to speak with his father, to ask where his interest in Elda stemmed from. He hadn’t brought it up yet and didn’t seem inclined to do so.

As Elda ate, exactly as Lady Merinda would expect her to, she cast sidelong glances at Mortain, trying to catch his attention. But he didn’t seem to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the duke and duchess, who were both focused on their food. Unconsciously, Elda began fiddling with her knife. Then she reached for her cup of berry juice and took a sip, clearing her throat softly afterward. Ahem.

At last, Mortain looked up from his plate, and Elda caught his gaze. She immediately raised her eyebrows, trying to remind him of his promise. When he responded with a confused frown, she gave the slightest nod in the duke’s direction. Mortain followed her gesture with his eyes, letting them rest on his father. Then he quickly turned back to Elda and shook his head.

Not now, he seemed to say.

Elda wasn’t having it and nodded firmly: yes, now. Mortain, however, made no move to do what she silently urged him to. That was no help to her. With a frustrated sigh, she took another bite of her stew.

“Is something the matter, Elda?” the duchess interrupted her thoughts. “You seem a little restless.”

“I…” Elda stammered, caught off guard by the duchess. She had been trying to get Mortain’s attention, not that of the duke or duchess. Still, she thought, if Mortain wasn’t going to ask his father anything, she would have to do it herself. Perhaps the questions Lady Merinda had drilled into her might prove useful after all. She decided to start with the first.

“I was wondering how your journey went, my lord.”

The duke didn’t respond immediately. He looked at her with a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth, then gave a nod.

“The journey went splendidly, Eldryssa. The mild weather during the first stages meant we encountered no delays. Three days after leaving the capital, we passed out of the Crownlands and traveled along the grain fields of Hofen. The days were still warm then, and the sun shone brightly upon us. As we continued north, it seemed the summer was bidding us farewell, and by the time we reached Tharg, on the seventh day of our journey, we had already been lashed by the first autumn rains. With our arrival in Tharg, we also crossed back into the borders of Arnallan. We were home again.”

He glanced at Mortain and Karyn before continuing.

“There, Countess Muira joined our retinue with her husband and knights. From that point on, we enjoyed three more days of favorable weather. It was only in the last two days that we had to halt and take shelter from the rain. It was through a curtain of rain that I finally saw, in the distance, the proud towers of Caer Twyrif rising on the horizon. We spent one last night under a misty, star-veiled sky, and arrived home at

The duchess took his hand, then raised her cup in the air. “And we are grateful for the return of our beloved duke.”

Mortain raised his cup as well. “Welcome back, Father!”

Elda, trying not to draw attention to herself, lifted her own cup too, though she wasn’t quite sure what to say. At the very least, she didn’t want the conversation to shift direction. If it did, she could forget about getting any answers. So she decided to try another of Lady Merinda’s carefully prepared questions. Perhaps the duke’s response would shed some light on the rumors that had been swirling about her.

“And how did you find the capital, if I may ask?”

The duke lowered his cup and fell silent for a moment. His lips pursed slightly as he regarded her with a searching gaze. Then he spoke, though his tone had changed from before.

“Ah, the capital! Hofendal was Hofendal, if you ask me. The summers there are too hot for my liking, and this year seemed endless. I’d choose Arnallan, Twyrif, over it a thousand times. Not that I could have enjoyed the Fendalian summer even if I wanted to; I had little time to wander the city, and spent most of my days in the chambers of Gaul Falith. I attended no feasts or ceremonies. For the most part, I was locked in discussions and debates with the High Council. We held what felt like endless sessions about…”

The duke didn’t finish his sentence, seeming to weigh what he should and shouldn’t say.

“Well, we discussed matters of state.”

Matters of state? Elda would have liked to know what kind of matters those were. Normally, she wasn’t the curious type, at least not about things like this. It always seemed obvious to her that such affairs weren’t meant for her ears, and from the occasional scraps she did overhear, she never got the impression they would interest her anyway. Yes, on any other day, she would have thought little of it, assuming a group of old men from the High Council had spent their time discussing taxes, supplies, and other dull affairs.

But this was not any other day.

Ever since news had spread of the duke’s return to Arnallan, rumors had followed, rumors about her. And her instincts told her they were tied to something the duke had done or said in the capital.

Still, she didn’t dare ask him directly what had been discussed there. She could already imagine how that would go: “Pardon me, my lord duke, but might you tell me which confidential matters you discussed with the High Council? Matters that clearly don’t concern me—except, apparently, everyone around me seems to know them anyway?”

No. She would have to try a different approach.

So far, her questions had yielded her little insight. But what had she expected, really? That Lady Merinda would give her questions whose answers she wasn’t allowed to know? Perhaps there was no point in asking any of them.

Although.

There was still the third question. The one Lady Merinda had told her she could forget, because it no longer mattered.

Perhaps now, it mattered more than anything.

“How is our beloved king faring?”

The words escaped before Elda had truly considered them.

The duke frowned for a moment. Then he folded his hands in front of him and began turning his thumbs over one another. Mortain and the duchess were both watching him closely, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he fixed his gaze intently on Elda, and the weight of it made her feel small and exposed.

“And what is the reason for all these questions, Eldryssa?”

She offered the first explanation that came to mind. “Well, Lady Merinda instructed me to ask you these questions. She said you would appreciate seeing that I could present myself as a proper young lady, and that these questions would demonstrate just that.”

It wasn’t a lie, and in a way, it was the truth.

The duke laughed. A loud, sudden laugh, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed almost as warm and cheerful as Mortain’s. His wife and son looked surprised, but then they too relaxed. Even Elda couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

“Lady Merinda,” the duke began, “clearly takes her work seriously. I instructed her to take you under her wing and shape you into a young lady worthy of Arnallan’s court. It pleases me to see she’s doing such fine work.”

“She certainly is,” the duchess added. “The governess speaks highly of young Elda, though she doesn’t always seem to be the easiest pupil.”

The tone in which the duchess said it was difficult to interpret. Elda couldn’t tell if it was meant as a stern warning or a playful approval. Fortunately, the duke swept away any unease she might have felt.

“She shouldn’t be easy to tame! The rulers of Arnallan possess strong wills and are not so easily subdued. Eldryssa isn’t the most compliant? That shows character!”

“In that case, I’ll bite back even more from now on,” Elda replied cheerfully, though it felt strange speaking so boldly to the duke.

Everyone laughed, but Elda didn’t miss the fact that the duke still hadn’t answered her question. It was clear he wasn’t planning to reveal anything more tonight.

“But Father,” Mortain interrupted the laughter, “you haven’t answered Elda’s question. How is the king? And what news do you bring from the capital? You’ve been gone a long time. Surely, you must have much to share.”

At that, Elda perked up, her attention sharpened. She gave Mortain a fleeting smile.

The duke let out a long sigh. “I’m not in the mood to speak of such matters now, my boy. Ever since I arrived in the capital, all I’ve done is talk politics with the High Council, my advisors, and captains. Tomorrow, during the banquet, I won’t get a moment to talk of anything else either. Tonight, I simply want to be home. With my family.” Then he turned his gaze toward Elda. “And with my future daughter.”

Elda felt her cheeks flush and glanced at Mortain. He was still looking at his father, and he wasn’t letting it go so easily.

“Come now, Father! You’ve been away for weeks and all I could do was wonder what occupied your time. Can’t you tell us anything at all?”

The duke looked at his son for a long moment, his expression weary. His eyes darkened, and he inhaled slowly and deeply.

“Guessing what has occupied me these past weeks won’t be necessary for much longer, but I ask for a bit more patience, from you, from all of you. I am tired, and I do not wish to speak of politics and state affairs again. Let us enjoy this meal. Tomorrow, there will be a great feast, and there, in the presence of many subjects, I shall share what must be shared. But not now.”

He said no more of it after that, and it was clear to Elda she would have to wait. But something told her that, at the very least, she now had a moment to look forward to, a moment when many questions might finally be answered.