The Game and the Candle Part 18

"Madame, most unintentionally I have offended you. Let me beg forgiveness and ask how."

"No, no; no one has done wrong. I myself was--absurd. I am not angry, monsieur; only tired."

They walked back, Allard completely bewildered and uncomprehending. By her chair Iria paused and gave him her hand with a smile whose sweetness was beyond tears.

"Thank you, Monsieur Allard," she said. "Perhaps we shall still be friends over there. You are going home, but I go a stranger to a strange place; I meant no more than that."

She was like Theodora, Allard thought, deeply moved. Surely Stanief would be gentle with her gentleness.

The next morning they landed.

CHAPTER X

A STANIEF'S OWN

It was a pity that, amidst all the gorgeous ceremony and confusion of welcome, Iria did not see the warm affection of Stanief's greeting to Allard. Perhaps she would have been less hopelessly afraid when the little Emperor took her hand and presented to her the tall, superb n.o.ble whose dark face, finely emotionless, resembled a cameo. Whose velvet eyes she dared not seek behind their curtaining lashes.

Yet Stanief was faultlessly courteous, even kind in his grave manner. It might have been merely that he was so different from her fancies of the last weeks.

The wedding was to take place in two days; two days of festivities, of marvelously decorated streets, of wonderful b.a.l.l.s by night. Iria did exactly as she was told; yielded dazedly to Adrian's caresses and accepted the Regent's lavish gifts. Like a beautiful toy she allowed her ladies to dress her half a dozen times a day, and listened submissively to her mother's advice. But the afternoon before her wedding-day, she saw Stanief alone for the first time.

After all, it was not really alone. The Emperor had been chatting with her on the great gla.s.s-enclosed balcony, and as Stanief came toward them, he rose with a significant smile and went back to the reception-hall. Still, from that crowded reception-hall they were only separated by arching, open arcades; only slightly screened by towering palms and flowers in huge vases.

Stanief took the chair beside his fiancee and looked at her; this was the first moment when he could do so without feeling himself watched by all curious eyes. He had read perfectly the terror under her mute pa.s.sivity, the shrinking of her tiny frost-cold hand from his touch, and he pitied her with all his heart. Now, in the l.u.s.trous rose-pink gown against which her transparent skin showed without a tinge of color, her bronze-bright head averted, her mouth curved in childish pathos, she inspired him with an anger against Adrian which he had never felt for himself.

"Princess," he said gently, "we have seen so little of each other until now, nor shall we again until after to-morrow. May I say something which has been in my thoughts since we met yesterday?"

"As you will, monseigneur," she murmured.

"I think it is as you will," Stanief corrected, smiling in spite of himself. "But I accept the permission. Will you forgive me if I have imagined that you feared me, Princess?"

Iria raised her topaz eyes to his in complete dismay.

"Monseigneur, you are angry--"

The sentence broke; those firm, steadily tranquil eyes of his caught and held hers.

"Angry? Why? But I am sorry, deeply sorry, for the net of policy which has enmeshed us both and left me no power of freeing you. And I would do all possible, Princess, to make this less hard for you. There is no need to be afraid of me in any way. I do not know what they have told you of me; if I govern the Empire severely, it is that order may come from chaos, no more. Of what else I may be accused--"

"Monseigneur!"

He smiled again at her tone, rather sadly.

"Oh, I know my enemies. But such things have no place between you and me. John Allard was of your suite; perhaps he could have told you that I am not all harshness."

She s.n.a.t.c.hed her gaze from his and blushed as he had never seen a woman blush before, the heavy crimson staining her very forehead.

"He did tell me--that, monseigneur."

"Then I would ask you to trust me, Princess. To-morrow you will come to my house; there will be no other change in your life which you do not wish. I am not a reigning sovereign, there is no reason why you should not keep with you the ladies of your own country whom you prefer. If you desire, I will have the Emperor ask your mother to remain with you for a few months."

Iria shook her head. Her mother's constant surveillance threatened even the peace Stanief offered, and prohibited rest.

"You are good to me, monseigneur," she faltered. "I will stay with you, please."

He understood, knowing the lady in question.

"Thank you," he answered, and after a moment, "A Stanief guards his own; so much, at least, our race has of loyalty. And to guard you all I can, that is all I claim. There are enough more serious troubles, Princess, without adding the artificial one of fear. If there is sorrow to you in this marriage, it is beyond my cure; but rest quietly in my guardianship."

The shadow of a sob crossed Iria's sensitive face; she looked up at him bravely and gratefully.

"You are good," she said hurriedly. "I never hoped you would be like this to me, monseigneur. No one ever thought of me so carefully before, never. But it is right to tell you, _because_ you are so good. I know that you did not wish this marriage, either, we are alike so. Baron Dalmorov informed me this morning."

"I am infinitely indebted to Baron Dalmorov," observed Stanief, his dark brows contracting in an expression that might have terrified into flight Iria's new-found confidence, if she had not been absorbed in her confession.

"I was not hurt, monseigneur; it made it easier to know. And now I can tell you; I, I hate secrets. There was some one--oh, some one quite impossible and who does not care for me at all. He does not dream I ever thought, like that. But I fancied he was some one else--I misunderstood.

It was not his fault in any way. I had to tell you, monseigneur; it seemed to me right to do so."

Stanief leaned forward and laid his hand over the cold hands folded in her lap. He had never before believed that a woman could be frank, never imaged one who "hated secrets." It was as if he stood on the threshold of a room all perfume and whiteness; and not the most accomplished coquette could have devised a means of moving him so profoundly.

"All my life I shall remember that you gave me your confidence, Iria,"

he answered, with exquisite delicacy and respect. "So far I am happier than you; I love no one. Have no doubt, no dread of anything I can save you. Some good may come of all this, how can we tell? And at least there is no need of making it worse by not understanding. You will not shrink so much from to-morrow, now?"

She met his eyes, helpless as a child in the great reaction; his warm clasp seemed to melt the chill despair of the last days, a little color came back to her cheek and something flashed rainbow-like upon her lashes.

"Not now," she sighed quiveringly. "Thank you, monseigneur."

Stanief raised her hand to his lips, and presently they went back to the Duquesa. After which he went in search of Adrian.

The Emperor was talking to Allard when his cousin came up to the alcove where they were ensconced, and he sat motionless with astonishment at sight of Stanief's steel-hard glance and compressed lips.

"Cousin?" he exclaimed, daunted in spite of himself.

Allard had risen at the approach, but Stanief did not regard him and Adrian gave no permission to retire.

"Sire," Stanief said, in the markedly quiet tone that came with his rare anger, "it is frequently your Imperial Majesty's pleasure to submit me and my affairs to the discussion or criticism of Baron Dalmorov. I have made no complaint, I make none now, but there is a limit to such endurance. The lady who is to be my wife--"

Allard moved involuntarily; Adrian raised his hand in swift protest.

"Cousin, I a.s.sure you--"

Stanief saluted him formally.

"Sire, I have just learned that Baron Dalmorov has had the tact to inform the Princess Iria that I was marrying her under compulsion and against my will. This insult to madame, this falsehood--"