A House Divided by Nicole Ciacchella (ebook reader for surface pro txt) 📖

"There are no right words, are there?" he asked.

"No. No, there aren't."

Her hand moved to cover his and he let it. They sat there for a long while, contemplating their losses.

Chapter 23

"There you are," Daerwyn said when Cianne walked into the dining room to break her fast with her father. "I've not seen much of you these past weeks."

"I've been busy with Lach," she said, not bothering to hide her weariness from him. After all, there was nothing like making a noble sacrifice for the House.

Her father nodded his approval. "He's depended on you a great deal," he said, satisfaction warming his words. He, for one, showed no sign of being concerned that she was losing her grasp on Lach.

Cianne cast a pointed glance at the servant placing her plate in front of her, giving the young man a smile. "Thank you, Philius."

Taking the hint, Daerwyn said nothing more. While she waited for the servant to leave the room, Cianne tried to decide how to play this encounter with her father. She wanted to see what information she could glean from him, but it went without saying that she would have to do so in an underhanded manner lest she let on to him that she had some inkling of what was going on in the House.

"Lach is in a real state," she said to her father when they were alone at last. She sighed for effect, pushing a bit of ham around on her plate, using the distraction to study her father from under lowered lids.

"So I've heard. Moiria is quite concerned about him."

"She has every reason to be. I've never seen him so despondent."

"I understand there were some raised voices during one of your last visits with him," her father said in a casual tone. He put some ham in his mouth and chewed, brows raised as he waited for her response.

Cianne permitted herself to blush, though in reality it was due to alarm and not embarrassment. Her father was spying on her? She felt a momentary surge of panic. What if he knew she was going out at night?

Lowering her head, she controlled her features, schooling them into an expression of deepest chagrin. "I'm afraid I lost my temper with him. He was… He's not been himself, and it's led him to say some things he shouldn't say."

"Such as?" Daerwyn continued eating as if they were making simple conversation, but she knew he was paying close attention to everything she said.

"He was unkind to me." Fixing her eyes on her hands, Cianne conjured up some tears. Should she let her father see her welling or was it better if she pretended as though she were trying to conceal her hurt? Better to pretend to conceal it, she decided.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Daerwyn sounded displeased.

Time to salvage the situation.

Dashing her hand across her face to brush away the tear she'd allowed to roll down her cheek, Cianne pulled in a deep breath and met her father's eyes, offering him a tremulous smile. "It was terrible, but he apologized to me. He's told me he doesn't know what he would do without me."

There. Let him know she hadn't lost her power.

How sickening this game was, how vile it made her feel. She didn't think she was toying with Lach's feelings, at least not to his face. She hadn't encouraged him to act in any other manner than as a friend. But she couldn't shake the sense of guilt and shame she felt at knowing she was using Lach's feelings as ammunition with her father.

Make him the object of public speculation so that you may hide your own actions and motives. Well done, Cianne.

What else could she do? She wasn't doing this solely for selfish reasons. It was to Lach's benefit as well for her to do her best to discover if there was more to his father's death than there appeared to be. It was to the benefit of the House as a whole to investigate whether the Elders, Moiria, and her father were deceiving everyone. Whatever they were caught up in, it would appear as if the entire House were involved, whether or not they were. Why should the House as a whole suffer punishment for the actions of a few?

Daerwyn looked like a cat indulging in a bowl of cream. "He's fortunate to have you looking out for him."

And you're fortunate to have me to dangle before him, aren't you?

"He's having trouble accepting that his father is gone," Cianne said, deciding to risk it. She wouldn't tell him what Lach suspected, not after she had promised Lach that she would not, but she wanted to see how her father would react to this sally.

"It's never easy to accept that someone is gone," he said, his jaw tightening.

Deciding it wasn't safe to press the issue, she said, "I think it would benefit him to go on a voyage again. There are too many reminders here. It's best for him to get away for a while, so that he can begin to heal rather than remain mired in his grief."

"I tend to agree. It would give Moiria time to get things in order, and when Lach returned he could concentrate more on the future."

She knew full well what he was implying by that, and she lowered her head again, spots of color reappearing on her cheeks. "I don't think now is the time to discuss it with him."

"I don't either. I do think being away would give him time to sort out his feelings, and I think it would give you time to do so as well. A trial such as this isn't an easy thing, Cianne. You and Lach have both known more grief than anyone as young as you are should know. You weathered your mother's loss with Lach's help, and he will weather his father's with yours. Not every relationship can stand such a test. And for all the bad, the good is that you're forging the kind of bond that makes for the strongest of foundations." He had softened his voice, going for the tenderhearted father concerned about his daughter's well-being.

She couldn't deny the truth of his words, but she didn't bother pointing out to him that the same could be said of friendship. Trying to discuss the nature of her feelings for Lach would get her nowhere. The size of the House didn't change much from generation to generation, and there were a limited number of eligible women and men with each generation. Her father hadn't remarried after losing his wife because there had been no eligible candidates. Cianne suspected he wouldn't have been interested in remarrying at any rate, but he would have subjugated his own wishes and done so for the good of the House, had the opportunity presented itself.

Were Cianne to reject Lach, there were other young women who would be glad to marry him, to secure themselves to both the wealth and social standing he would bring them. That he would marry went without question. He was far too valuable an asset to Staerleigh to live as a bachelor. Cianne held his heart, but he would do his duty as required. Love didn't matter; even had he been one of the House members who preferred the company of his own sex over that of the opposite sex he would still have to marry in order to have children, though House members who found themselves in that situation usually made discreet arrangements to carry on affairs on the side. Their spouses had to agree to the arrangements, of course, in order to ensure harmony, and it was common in such cases for several married couples to work together to reach mutually beneficial arrangements. But the bottom line was that no good possibilities for breeding could go to waste.

Which was why Cianne had chosen the tactic she had, arguing that she wasn't a worthy wife for Lach because of her lack of Adept abilities. It was the only reason her father hadn't pressed her even harder than he had, because even he couldn't argue with that logic, regardless of how ambitious he was for his daughter.

Yet his patience was coming to an end, increasing her sense of urgency. She would have to get to the bottom of this mystery, and she would have to do it soon.

"I-I wish I were… That I…" she said. The words came from between gritted teeth, but that made them sound as if her distress were so great she found it difficult to speak, so her father didn't notice anything was amiss.

"It cannot be helped," he said, giving her hand a perfunctory pat. She heard the mixture of disgust and disappointment in his voice. In her more generous hours, she worked to convince herself that her father was ashamed of feeling such things for his own daughter, but even in those generous hours she wasn't able to entirely convince herself.

"I think you're right," she said in an unsteady tone. "I am fortunate Lach and I understand one another as well as we do."

It was the truth, but she also said it for her father's benefit, to reinforce the point that she had a claim to Lach that no one else did.

Someday, she thought, perhaps someday I can do something to make up for my transgressions against him.

They continued their meal in silence for a while, then Cianne turned a falsely bright smile on her father.

"I heard some of the Elders came to see you a few days ago, while I was still asleep?" she asked.

"They did. We were discussing Lach, in fact. I've told them as well that I think he ought to be sent on another voyage, and they're considering sending him to Leonovia."

"I'm not certain he'll like that," Cianne said, wrinkling her nose, curious to see how much her father would disclose to her.

With a rueful smile, he said, "You sound like Elder Florius. Don't take it as a slight against Lach. I merely feel that it might be wise to get him back to sea with an easy voyage. From what you've said, I'm not certain he's ready for something more demanding."

"That's very thoughtful of you." She was surprised that he'd made the comment about Elder Florius. It was unusual for her father to critique the Elders, even obliquely.

"Elder Florius has Lach's best interests at heart," he said. "As do we all. We simply have a difference of opinion as to what that might be. Given that you also think it would be good for Lach to return to sea, my belief that the Leonovia voyage might be just the thing is even more firm. Would you speak to Lach about it?"

"Of course. I do so want him to get better," she said, employing her most earnest tone and expression.

Nodding his approval, her father wiped his mouth and stood. "I must get to the Council Hall. We've a meeting with one of the other captains, and I'm anxious to hear her report. As I'm sure you can imagine, Lach's absence from the roster has left us with something of a hole—not that I want you to share that with him. I don't want him to feel guilty, not while he's still grieving his father. It would be best for us all, though, to get him back onto his ship."

And there was the twist of the blade. Whatever her father might claim, he knew guilt over the damage he might be doing to the House would prove a powerful motivator for