Chapter 449: Arrival at Gallowshill

Chapter 448: Arrival at Gallowshill

Lyria’s POV

I cannot precisely recall how long we spent upon the journey to Gallowshill.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, for when I next opened my eyes, I discovered that a considerable number of the others had done the same. Even Duke Thorncrest appeared to have surrendered to sleep for a time, though he looked considerably less comfortable than anyone else aboard the vessel.

Eventually, however, the boat slowed.

We had arrived.

I had been under the impression that reaching the docks should mark the end of our journey, but contrary to what I had supposed, it did not.

"What are we doing here?" Corvin asked sharply, irritation plain in his tone. "Were we not meant to be conveyed to a town?"

I turned towards Daniel, for I wondered precisely the same thing myself. The place before us could scarcely be called a town.

There were no houses, no inns, no shops.

There was only the dock, a stretch of open land, and beyond it, what appeared to be nothing more than fields.

The ground beneath our feet was terribly soggy, presumably as a consequence of the recent hailstorm. There was no one present to receive us.

"D-do tell," I said to Daniel, since he was apparently our supervisor. "This i-is Gallowshill, c-correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"B-but why i-is there nothing, n-nor anyone, h-ere?"

"Perhaps the people of the town were never informed of our arrival," Duke Thorncrest suggested.

His tone was mild, but I noticed the slight tightening of his jaw.

"But why should that be the case?" Duke Valenridge asked. "Surely word ought to have been sent ahead. Unless, perhaps, a letter was never dispatched at all."

His gaze shifted towards Daniel.

"Is that the case?"

"You are our appointed supervisor, after all," Lucian added, his own gaze upon Daniel as well. "Surely such an oversight could not have occurred under your watch?"

Daniel hesitated.

"I..."

He stopped, then, with a small shake of his head, continued.

"This was not my doing."

"Indeed?" Duke Valenridge’s brows rose. "I do not believe anyone has accused you of it. Unless, of course, your conscience has chosen to make the accusation on our behalf."

"Your Grace," Daniel replied, rather tightly, "I assure you, I have no guilty conscience in this matter."

"Excellent," Duke Valenridge said. "Then you ought to have no difficulty whatsoever in answering the question."

Daniel’s expression tightened.

"I reckon you never sent word of our arrival at all, did you?" Lucian asked him.

Daniel remained silent, and for several seconds no one spoke, for we all awaited his reply.

Then his attention shifted towards the distance, and his countenance brightened considerably. I heard the steady rhythm of hooves. Then the unmistakable rattle of carriage wheels approaching over the road.

And given that I lacked the wolf senses of the others, I wondered whether they had perhaps heard this some while before, and had chosen regardless to press Daniel upon the matter.

"They are here," Daniel said, relief evident in his voice. "See, I knew they should come."

Before long, several carriages came into view. They approached at a steady pace before drawing to a halt before us.

A gentleman descended from the first carriage.

He approached us at once and bowed deeply.

First to me.

Then to the gentlemen who stood loosely about me.

He then turned towards Lucian.

"Your Grace."

"Isaac," Lucian acknowledged, with a slight inclination of his head.

Then his gaze returned to Daniel.

"Am I to understand, Daniel, that no carriages had been arranged for us whatsoever? That I was obliged to call in a personal favour merely that we might travel from the dock at all?"

I very nearly laughed. I felt quite certain Lucian had anticipated this before ever we arrived, which only confirmed the more that Daniel had made no proper arrangement for our departure from the docks.

Duke Thorncrest regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"Am I to understand, then, that your presence here is like to prove a greater hindrance than an assistance to what we are meant to accomplish?"

Daniel’s lips parted.

But before he could answer, Corvin spoke up.

"I should think it a good deal more sensible to enter the carriages than to continue debating the matter." He glanced towards the darkened fields. "It is night, and I have no wish to encounter some filthy creature before we have even reached our lodgings."

If we possessed one at all.

"Are you afraid of the dark, my lord?" Duke Thorncrest asked, with a smile.

"I am afraid of needless delay," Corvin answered, without hesitation.

"I-is that so?" I asked him.

It was, I confess, rather comical, coming from the very man who had ensured we departed later than had been planned.

Corvin’s eyes settled upon me at once.

"Do tell me, Your Highness, precisely what you mean by that."

"W-what do you mean, m-my lord?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"You insinuated that I might have been less than truthful."

I hummed softly.

"D-did I?"

His expression hardened.

I turned from him before he could answer further and addressed the servants who had accompanied us.

"P-pray, since m-most of us appear quite a-afraid of delay, and of t-the dark besides, see t-that the l-luggage is put in its proper p-place with h-haste."

The servants bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness."

They immediately set about assisting Isaac with the luggage. The coachmen joined them, though I marked their manner throughout. None of them looked towards us.

None offered a single word of welcome.

None appeared in the least interested in the arrival of a princess, nor the noblemen sent to their town. It was precisely as I had been told — these men cared nothing for nobles, though at the least they had not sent us off with stones and rotten vegetables.

"Your Highness," Corvin called sharply. "We were in the midst of a conversation."

"And what e-exactly was it a-about?" I asked, with a tilt of my head. "For I must c-confess, I cannot s-seem to r-recall."

"Does your memory fail you as readily as your speech?" Corvin asked me.

The atmosphere altered at once. Marquess Silverwyn drew a sharp breath.

My guards ceased their labours, as did my maids, who fell silent, though I did not doubt for a moment that murder was perhaps being plotted among them, Bridget the leader.

Lucian turned sharply, just as Duke Thorncrest’s head snapped towards Corvin.

Duke Valenridge, however, merely looked upon Corvin, and then smiled. I daresay it was not a particularly reassuring smile.

"My lord," he said, his voice remarkably even, "you are exceedingly quick to identify the faults of others. And yet you appear remarkably reluctant to acknowledge your own."

Corvin stiffened.

"I have no—"

"Oh, I am quite certain you do not recall them. Might I refresh your memory upon the matter? Perhaps we ought to begin with your childhood. You were, I understand, rather fond of wetting your bed until the age of sixteen, though you attributed the matter to your guards and your valet."

"Then there is your territory, presently in considerably poorer condition than several others, though I suppose we need not trouble ourselves with that particular unpleasantness."

"Your Grace—"

"And there is the rather unfortunate matter of your excessive nose hair, and how you are known, upon occasion, to pluck it and wipe your fingers upon your pristine garments when you believe no one is watching."

I could myself bear witness to this, for back when we had been something akin to friends, I had observed Corvin do precisely so.

Duke Valenridge continued without the slightest alteration in his expression.

"Not to mention your habit of mistaking shadows for persons, once darkness falls."

Corvin’s face was now unmistakably scarlet.

I pressed my lips together firmly.

Duke Valenridge tilted his head, as though endeavouring to recall some further matter.

"Ah." He snapped his fingers softly. "How could I possibly have forgotten?"

His smile widened.

"You accuse another of possessing a poor memory, when you yourself have apparently forgotten to which team you belong. And then there is the rather unfortunate ailment you suffer from — one which, I believe, no gentleman would particularly wish discussed in polite company."

Now I confess myself curious. What ailment?

"Shall I continue?" Duke Valenridge asked Corvin, who had a murderous look upon his face.

"These are baseless accusations," he spat.

"Are they?" Duke Valenridge asked, and then turned towards Duke Thorncrest. "Was it not but a few days past that we were subjected to an investigation, because our good friend here claimed to have seen us sneaking about at night in the company of women?"

Duke Thorncrest nodded gravely.

"I recall it quite clearly." He looked towards Corvin. "I must apologise, my lord, but I fear His Grace has been rather restrained upon most matters this evening."

Corvin looked as though he might wish the very ground should open beneath him.

"I daresay the only baseless accusation offered this evening," Duke Valenridge said, "was that a person’s memory might be judged deficient merely because their speech is imperfect." He glanced towards me as he spoke these words. "Her Highness speaks quite clearly enough for my own understanding."

"Though," he added, his gaze returning to Corvin, "I cannot say the same is true of you, my lord."

"I speak perfectly clearly," Corvin protested.

"One may speak clearly enough, and yet fail entirely to convey oneself with any clarity," Lucian said calmly. "And surely, my lord, you understand what it means to insult a member of the royal family. For you are..."

He paused, and regarded Corvin as though conducting some manner of physical examination of the man’s very features, before speaking at last.

"...well — you are a marquess."

There was a subtle emphasis placed upon the title.

"Her Highness is a princess. And for a gentleman who appears rather fond of the authority his rank affords him, you seem strangely inclined to forget the obligations that accompany it. I trust this shall not prove a recurring difficulty during our stay here — shall it?"

Corvin’s gaze shifted towards me in that very instant. There was a threat beneath those calm words, and I felt certain he perceived it as plainly as I.

"I apologise for my words, Your Highness."

Under ordinary circumstances, I ought perhaps to have accepted his apology.

And I should have done so, had those words come from any other person.

But this was Corvin.

I had no intention whatsoever of forgiving him merely because etiquette demanded I pretend otherwise.

And so I ignored him entirely, choosing instead to feign an interest in some dust upon my own garments.

Before I could say anything in regards to his insult which I was quite certain it was, Duke Valenridge had already spoken on my behalf.

There was no need for me to add a single word.

I was, once again, indebted to these gentlemen. And I found I cared not in the least, for they never made me feel as though repayment were expected of me. And I confess I rather enjoyed the spectacle of Corvin being so thoroughly put in his place.

The matter appeared settled.

Our luggage was loaded into the carriages, and at last we prepared to depart.

Then another difficulty presented itself, for we were simply too many in number, and there were far too few carriages to be had.