Down the small incline he went and through the gates, ignoring the servants who waited there to take his mount. He did not stop whipping his reins until he reached the stairs before the wide, mahogany doors. Not waiting for the attendants to take his mount, he leaped off its back and ran up the stairs.
“Thania,” Stefan yelled. “Thania!” He threw the doors open and entered.
A long lamp-lit hallway stretched before him. Dressed in the blue of the Dorn house and bowing profusely, his serving men and women greeted him.
“Thania!”
“Good to see you, Lord Dorn. It is-”
“Perta,” Stefan grabbed the steward by his shoulders. “Where’s my wife? Is she well?”
“Why yes, my lord.” The balding man’s forehead wrinkled. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
Stefan expelled a long breath and smiled, a gloved hand gripping his chest as a tightness he had not noticed before eased. “King Nerian, he,” Stefan began. “Never mind. Where is she?”
“I’m not sure, my lord.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“M-My lord, M-Master D-Dorn, sir.” Perta grimaced. He pointed to where Stefan’s other hand still held his shoulder, squeezing.
“I’m sorry,” Stefan said, releasing his hold. He shed his gloves and tossed them to one of the attendants.
Perta rubbed at the spot, taking slow breaths. “It’s fine, my lord. What I meant was I’m not sure where she is in the house. It’s been a lot of commotion since your arrival was announced.”
Stefan nodded. He rounded on the other servants lining the hall. “Do any of you know where she is?”
A chorus of murmured ‘No, my lord’ spread throughout the foyer. One servant stepped forward. Stefan didn’t recognize the diminutive woman.
Head down, she said, “Lady Dorn went to her rooms to prepare for your arrival, sir.”
Relief swept through him for the second time in a few moments. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Clesi, my lord.”
“Thank you, Clesi.”
“Lord Dorn,” Perta said, “is there anything we can get you right now? Food? A drink? Maybe you would like a bath before you see Lady Dorn.”
Stefan cocked his head and raised a quizzical eyebrow at the steward’s suggestion. The man knew Stefan always spent time with Thania first before doing anything of the sort. “Perta.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Walk with me. The rest of you continue with whatever my wife had you doing.”
After they bowed, the servants hurried away.
Stefan noted the sweat beading on Perta’s forehead. He made sure all the other servants were out of earshot before he deliberately rested his hand on his sword’s hilt. “Now, would you mind telling me why you’re stalling me from seeing my wife?”
Perta’s mouth opened then closed. He dabbed at the perspiration with a powdered cloth.
“You have another moment to answer me …” Stefan allowed the implied threat to linger.
“The Mistress, sir. She ordered me to delay you.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise, my lord. I cannot tell you.”
Stefan quirked an eyebrow at Perta and tapped a finger on his sword hilt.
“Mistress’s orders … she forbid it,” the steward said quickly.
For a moment, Stefan considered commanding Perta to reveal what he knew, but by the stubborn set of the man’s jaw, he saw he would be wasting his time. The steward’s loyalty was unquestioned. And it belonged to Thania. With a resigned sigh, his earlier urgency washing away completely, Stefan said, “Fine. Take me to her.”
After a deep bow, Perta led the way. They walked along the hall, their footsteps muted by the thick carpet. The paintings on the walls were still in the same places Stefan remembered leaving them. In the main greeting area, he couldn’t help but smile. It had been three years, but again Thania had made sure the same soft, cushioned chairs and benches were against the walls. The vast area rug they now walked on was also as he left it. The artwork woven into the material showed an ancient war between the Eztezians and other Matii as they battled against each other and the shade’s armies. Materforgings scoured the land in lightning bolts, waves of earth, fountains of flame, maelstroms, and tornadoes. Around the entire scene, a massive forest burned. Shadelings were being herded into an enormous rent in the earth that supposedly represented the Great Divide.
The house smelled of bellflowers and spices, and sure enough, around the room on short pillars were vases filled with the blue and yellow blooms. Candles, smoke rising from them in lazy wisps that carried the nose tickling scent of the spices, burned in small holders on the three long tables set to either side of the room’s center. Servants hurried to the tables upon which sat various appetizers, from fruits to breads to meats.
As Stefan and Perta made their way across the room to the wide marble steps, several attendants came to offer Stefan fruit or small pastries of rolled meat. The mouthwatering aromas brought a grumble to his stomach. Hunger denied his temptation to shoo them away. Soon he was gulping down food while washing it down with his wife’s kinai wine. Whatever Thania had planned, she intended to have his attention held until she was ready. My dear wife, what are you up to now?
The last time Thania had gone to this extent, she’d thought she was with child. When she found out she wasn’t, she’d been devastated. Stefan’s shoulders slumped with the thought. With the threat of another campaign in the way, he wondered if they would ever get to experience the joys of parenthood. At eighty, his chances were rapidly dwindling. Although she kept her age a closely guarded secret, Thania was much older by far, but she had the advantage of being a powerful Ashishin on her side, while he was only a Dagodin.
They reached the landing, followed the balustrade to the right, and entered an alcove with a staircase to the uppermost floors. Two flights up, they exited and strode down a short lamp lined hall to the main bedroom. Perta knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Stefan’s heart sped up at the sound of Thania’s melodious voice.
Perta entered, and Stefan frowned at a noise much like a child’s laughter.
A moment later, the steward announced, “The lord is here, my lady.”
The urge to push open the doors almost overwhelmed him, but Stefan decided to let his wife have her fun. She’d gone to extreme lengths to prepare for his homecoming. The last thing he wished to do was ruin her surprise. One boot tapping on the rug, he waited.
The giggling reached him again, but this time a child did appear, peeking out from the door. Hair midnight black, green eyes twinkling, something about the child seemed disturbingly familiar. Stefan growled under his breath. Now he knew why the whole delay. Thania had once again taken in one of the servant’s children. Had one of them died like last time? He shook his head. When last this occurred, his wife had become irrationally attached to the baby. When the child’s family arrived to claim him from Southern Felan almost a year later, it had taken months for her to recover from her sorrow.
“My lady says you may enter, sir,” Perta said from where he stood holding the door open.
Stefan stepped inside, his heart suddenly racing at the prospect of seeing his wife after so many years away. The door closed behind him, and it was only himself, Perta, the tiny boy who couldn’t be more than three and …. Was that another child sitting at a small table playing with a doll eyeing him curiously? Stefan’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. What, in Ilumni’s name, is going on?
Rather than question Perta again, Stefan studied the room. Similar to the rest of his home, his wife had kept the room as he remembered: the wide bed, the paintings on the walls and the lamps in their sconces. The familiar rug under his feet showed some battle between the gods. A bundle wrapped in an oiled cloth sat on a table near the door to the sitting room. A pinging noise made him look down. A smile on his face, the boy was knocking on his armor.