I had to pass the sitting room to get back to my room and, unfortunately, a familiar male voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Your move, Elred.”
Jhaeros Keasandoral was here. My nose wrinkled.
Arrogant, stuffy Jhaeros. He’d take one look at me and purse his lips in disapproval. He didn’t need to utter one word to judge me. He found me offensive, that much had been clear from the beginning.
“I don’t like my options,” I heard my father say with a grumble. “One day I will beat you, Jhaeros.”
“No one ever has,” Jhaeros answered, matter-of-fact. Proud.
At least their attention was on their game of campaigne.
I tiptoed, as quietly as my saturated shoes would allow, past the open double doors of the sitting room. I’d almost made it past when my father called out, “Aerith! Get in here.”
Oh, pitberries. Why did he have to notice and call me in?
I hovered in the doorway, glancing longingly down the hallway.
“Aerith,” Father repeated in a low warning tone.
Suppressing a sigh, I shuffled into the sitting room, shoulders drooped, blonde hair still plastered to my face and neck, and goose pimples covering my arms.
A faded rug covered more than half the floor. We’d kept a light blue sofa, small round table, two chairs, and a bookcase that held the volumes deemed worthless by the local bookseller. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the tall window—the panes free of grime, thanks to the scrubbing I’d given them last month.
Jhaeros peeled his eyes away from the game board and looked me over from head to foot with a frown. His tall, strapping frame and commanding presence always made me fidgety. I avoided his piercing brown eyes the same way I dodged sharp, pointy objects.
My short, stocky father scooted away from the table and frowned at me. “What in tarnation are you doing out so early, and in the rain, no less? Were you off visiting that boy over on the south side again?”
My cheeks heated in anger and embarrassment at my father’s suggestion. He knew damned well why I went to see Devdan.
“Your gown is practically soaked through. Did any of the neighbors see you?” my father continued.
I folded my arms over my bosom, teeth clenched.
“No,” I ground out.
Father narrowed his eyes, looking unconvinced.
“Well, now that you’re back, you might as well clean yourself up.”
Happily. I backed away, only to be stopped by the tinkling laughter of my sister, Shalendra.
“Goodness, Aerith, you look a fright.”
I turned sideways, getting my first glimpse of my younger sister in her green velvet gown with its plunging neckline from which to best display her plump bosom. Rich dark brown hair was swept up into a soft half-bun on her head with lovely ringlets arranged around her pointed ears. A pair of emerald eyes glimmered from either side of her pert nose as she looked past me.
“Good morning, Jhaeros.” Shalendra blushed faintly, always on cue.
Jhaeros scrambled to his feet, nearly toppling his chair.
“Miss Heiris, you look lovely, as always.” His words rushed out and his entire expression softened.
Shalendra flashed him a demure smile.
“You are too kind, sir.”
“Not when it comes to campaigne,” Father grumbled.
A grin climbed up Shalendra’s cheeks.
“Has our reigning champion won again?”
“Not yet, but he will,” Father conceded.
I inched my way back. Perhaps if I moved in slow motion I’d make it out without further notice.
“What brings you by so early?” Shalendra asked.
I held back a snort. Like any of us really had to wonder. When it came to my middle sister, Jhaeros was a lovestruck fool. He didn’t even try to hide it, which should have amused me since he was such a pompous ass. Instead, his open displays of adoration turned the meager contents in my stomach to ash.
“I have something for you.” Jhaeros reached into his pocket and pulled out a black felt bag. He glanced at my father. “I hope you don’t mind?”
Father smiled and nodded his consent.
My heart stiffened inside my chest, anchoring me in place. I was torn between running from the room and seeing what it was Jhaeros was offering my sister. He’d already asked Father for permission to propose once, but Father, after conferring with Shalendra, said he’d have to wait until my sister turned eighteen to ask. That was in another four months. It seemed I was doomed to have a condescending elf for a brother-in-law. At least Shalendra would be better off. Jhaeros was the wealthiest elf in Pinemist and one of the few who knew the true extent of our misfortunes. Yet it hadn’t made him love Shalendra any less. I could give him credit for that much.
My sister’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the felt pouch.
“What’s this?” she asked uncertainly.
“A small gift,” Jhaeros said, placing it in her open palms.
Shalendra grinned and reached inside.
“You shouldn’t have.”
My breath hitched as she pulled out a silver filigreed pendant framing a large oval emerald. I’d had one just like it, only my stone had been blue. Mother had given us each one to match our eyes or, in Melarue’s case, red to match her hair. “My little firecracker,” she used to call Mel.
“Jhaeros.” Shalendra breathed his name. “How did you—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. She held the pendant by its chain and stared at it in wonder. “I can’t believe you found it. Thank you.”
“Please, allow me,” Jhaeros said.
Shalendra handed him her pendant and lifted her hair off her neck as he fastened the chain from behind her, a slight tremor in his fingers.
Tears swarmed my eyes, turning the pendant into a green blur. I twisted around and hurried out of the room to the sanctuary of my private quarters.
The floorboards creaked beneath my feet. The thick rug in my room had been sold off shortly after Mother’s death. My clothes had been moved from a beautifully carved armoire to an old scuffed-up trunk above which a small warped mirror hung. I walked up to it, looking through the murky glass at my grimy face. Dirt coated my forehead, nose, and cheeks. My hair looked stringy and flat. Dark half-moons seemed to have taken up permanent residence beneath my eyes, like a second set of eyebrows misplaced on my face. There was no dirt on my pale neck. There was nothing at all.
I knew why Father was eager to call me into the sitting room when Jhaeros was present. He wanted to remind the handsome elf which of his daughters was the beauty, the grace, the family jewel.
As though Jhaeros needed reminding.
He’d sweep Shalendra off her slippered feet in a heartbeat if she let him.
And me, I’d be left behind to sweep up the mess Mother’s death had made of our fortunes.
After changing into a dry cotton gown and braiding my hair, I went to the kitchen to make up a small pot of gruel. My youngest sister, Melarue, stood on a stool in front of the teakettle. Her long red hair was tangled, making her appear younger than her fifteen years. When she turned her head to smile at me, bright green eyes beamed at me.
“Would you like some rose petal tea?” Mel asked.
I laughed. “Sure, I’d love some rose petal tea.” I didn’t point out that it would taste better if she let the petals dry out first.