Chapter 687: Illuminating Carriage Ride (Part One)
Despite traveling by little more than lantern light in the thickening fog, the luxurious carriage moved swiftly through the night. The team of horses was exceptionally well trained, and Marcel was more at home in darkness than most people were in daylight.
More than that, the vampire expanded his Cloak of Darkness to encompass the team of horses, granting them the same vision in darkness that he enjoyed as a result of Nyrielle’s gift. In the darkness of a moonless night, not even Thane could have driven at the speed with which the carriage under Marcel’s control moved, and they would reach the ancient fortress with at least an hour to spare before sunrise.
Within the carriage, Ashlynn reached into a small compartment, retrieving three wooden cups that had been carved to resemble oak leaves folding over each other. After passing one to each of the guild masters, she poured herself a small measure of the deeply fragrant honeyed wine that had also come as a gift from Lady Erna before taking a small sip to buy herself some time to organize her thoughts.
"Some of the things I’m going to say may shock you," she warned Isabell and Tiernan. "You might want to prepare yourselves," she said, though in truth, she wasn’t sure how anyone could prepare themselves for what she was about to say. "Just know that I consider you both to be good friends, and I don’t intend to deceive you or hide things from you. You can ask questions and I’ll do my best to answer them," she said.
"My Lady," Tiernan began, only to correct himself and address her in the same familiar tone that Isabell had used. After weeks of watching his every word when he was in the company of Owain Lothian and the frontier lords, it was refreshing to be called a friend and allowed to speak informally, but his shoulders carried far too much tension from tense negotiations to relax into informality as easily as Isabell seemed to. "Ashlynn. I don’t know how much more you can shock us after the performance you just put on."
"I’ve seen your father do similar things at court," the burly ironmonger said while scratching the stubble on his chin with a thumb. "But I think even he would be impressed at how you juggled so many different audiences at once. By the end of it, you gave Owain’s men a vision of a wonderful life in your village, the likes of which they would never find at the end of decades serving your husband."
"At the same time," he continued after taking a sip of the smooth, sweet wine. "You put the fear of the Holy Lord of Light so deeply into them that I think they’ll burst into flames at the thought of betraying you. I don’t remember you being so skilled at manipulating people’s hearts like that, but it worked well on a crowd of commoners, and you bowled right over top of Sir Rain and Sir Hugo as well. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been taking lessons from an orator... or maybe a conman," he said, though it wasn’t entirely clear if he meant the words as praise or not.