by Sharon Shinn
He laughed, but she had a point. “I’ll leave a note with Darby, telling him who to notify if something goes wrong.”
“Who’s—oh, Kayle’s assistant. Right. Because I assume your brother would want to know, too.”
He smiled at her. “But nothing will happen. So Darby won’t be notifying anyone of anything.”
Josetta toyed with the remnants of food on her plate. “So have you given up the gambling life altogether?”
He laughed. “Oh, I’d say flying an aeromotive is the biggest gamble of all.”
She smiled reluctantly. “I mean, have you stopped playing cards as a way to support yourself?”
He leaned his elbows on the table. “For the moment. I’ve taken an apartment down at the port, though so far I’ve kept the one at Samson’s just so I have a place to stay when I’m in the city.”
“You could stay here,” she suggested. “There’s usually an empty bunk in the dorm.”
His face showed his distaste. “Once you’ve lived on your own—even in a dump like Samson’s—it’s hard to go back to communal living, even for a night.”
“I understand that,” she agreed. “But it gets cumbersome to split your possessions over a couple of different households. I have one room at Darien’s, one at my mother’s, a suite at Zoe’s house up on the river, and my bedroom here. If I wanted to, I could keep a room at the palace, too, but I try never to spend the night there.”
“Why not?”
“I hate it there,” she said softly. “I was so miserable when I lived at court. Every time I step back inside I just feel all the weight of those wretched days bearing down on me again.”
“You’re still an heir,” he pointed out. “There’s still the possibility you’d end up being named queen, and you’d have to live there again.”
“Oh, surely not,” she said. “There’s Odelia—and Natalie—” Her voice trailed off and she looked, for a moment, decidedly uneasy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, just—remembering that Odelia was sick last time Romelle was in Chialto,” Josetta said, so offhandedly that Rafe was sure she was lying. He didn’t know why she’d bothered; he had no idea how to piece together the significance of anything that happened at court. “So I suppose you’re right. Once you’re in line for the throne, you’re never really out of the shadow of the palace.”
“But nothing will happen to Odelia,” he said in a reassuring voice. “Just like nothing will happen to my aeromotive.”
She smiled again. “That’s right. Nothing to worry about at all.”
FIFTEEN
Of course there was plenty to worry about, and Josetta couldn’t imagine how Darien kept track of it all. The obnoxious prince of Berringey had finally departed with his many guards and attendants, though he still threatened to return. Even worse, Darien reminded everyone that the empress of Malinqua would be paying a visit sometime before Quinnatorz, so there would be at least as much pomp and celebration to welcome her.
And orchestrating the visits of foreign dignitaries was only one of the time-consuming tasks that had fallen to Darien recently; another was trying to keep a rein on Alys. Zoe and Corene were gone, but Josetta was in the house, when Darien summoned Alys and her husband for a confrontation.
“What are you going to say to her?” Josetta wanted to know. “Can I listen in?”
She’d expected him to say no, but his eyes narrowed as he considered it. “It might be useful to have a witness, even one clearly biased in my favor,” he decided. “Even Alys is less likely to tell lies about me later if you’re in the room.”
“I won’t say a word,” she promised.
He gave a grim laugh. “You won’t have a chance to. We’ll be yelling at each other too loudly.”
But Darien, at least, kept his cool during the tense, angry interview. Of course he did; Darien never lost control. It was Alys and Dominic who did all the shouting.
They gathered in Darien’s study, where Alys and Corene had had their last disastrous conversation. Josetta sat at a small table by the window, laying out a solitary card game that Rafe had taught her, using a deck he had lent her when she admired its pictures. She stood up long enough to bow at Alys when the queen entered, and to favor Dominic with a nod. He was a beefy man with a ruddy complexion and dark hair; Corene had said once that he always looked greedy, no matter what the discussion. Josetta thought he looked smart but calculating. He smiled at her, which was more than Alys did, but she didn’t smile back as she dropped back into her seat and resumed her game.
“Delighted, as always, to see you again, Darien,” Alys said in her silky tones. She and Dominic took chairs across from Darien, who had seated himself behind a massive, scrupulously tidy desk.
“I feel certain your delight will quickly fade,” he replied.
“Well now, well now,” Dominic said in a placating voice. “We’re all reasonable people here. There’s no need to be arguing over—what are we arguing over?”
“We’re not arguing,” Darien said. “I have a question to ask and some information to share. That’s all.”
“A question?” Alys asked in a marveling, mocking voice. “But I thought the regent had spies everywhere and knew everything!”
“I would like to think so,” he said. “But now and then I learn of events that happened without my observation. For instance, I wanted to ask you, Alys, if you ever thought it might be amusing to send one of your spies to the bedroom of Princess Odelia and—just for fun—cut off a lock of the girl’s hair.”
The silence went on for so long that Josetta looked up from her card game to see what expression Alys was wearing. The queen looked neither guilty nor panicked; her eyes were narrowed and she was watching Darien closely.
“Why, no,” she said. “But I take it someone did? How very alarming that must have been for Romelle.”
“As you say,” Darien replied.
“I assume the princess wasn’t actually harmed?”
“No. Which leads me to believe the visitor was merely intent on mischief. Which is why,” he added, “I instantly thought of you.”
“Oh, Darien,” Alys said. “To think you still hold me in such high regard.”
“So much so that any harm that comes to Odelia will instantly lead me to consider you the likeliest culprit.”
Alys actually laughed. “I have no wish to harm the princess. Absolutely none. So if that’s what this little meeting is about—”
“I only wanted to let you know I am paying attention,” Darien said. “That’s not the point of our conference at all.” He tossed an envelope across the desk at Dominic. “Here’s the real business at hand. I’ve purchased the mortgage on the house you’re buying in Chialto. It now belongs to me.”
Dominic first appeared wholly taken by surprise, and then furious. “You can’t do that! I have a contract—I’ll own it in five years!”
“The contract has been rewritten. I’m now your lender, and anytime I decide to foreclose, I can.”
“So you’d turn us out in the streets?” Dominic blustered. “You would be willing to see the queen homeless?”
“Alys owns a small property in the middle provinces,” Darien said coolly. “It belonged to her family before she married Vernon, and was bequeathed to her by the throne when Vernon died. She will never be homeless.”
“If you think I will ever live anywhere but Chialto, you are entirely mistaken,” Alys told him.
Darien shrugged and slid a somewhat bulkier package across the desk. “I’ve bought a controlling share in the cotton processing factory you’ve invested in. If I ever decide the business isn’t functioning satisfactorily, I’ll shut it down.”
“Shut it down—but you could bankrupt me! I put more than half my assets in that business!”
“Where are you getting all this money you’re
flinging about?” Alys demanded. “Or were you stealing from Vernon all those years?”
“I borrowed cash from my wife, who is a very wealthy woman,” Darien said. “The hunti prime insisted on contributing funds as well.”
Dominic was getting angrier and angrier; Josetta had the sense that he could literally explode with rage. “So you are trying to destroy me!” he snarled. “Alys said—but I didn’t believe her—and all of this over lies some little girl started spouting about me.”
Darien passed him a tightly rolled scroll sealed with a wax wafer. “Here’s a copy of the letter I’ve sent to the other four primes. I’ve also provided copies to Romelle and Elidon and Seterre, as well as members of the council. They’ve all been told the notes should remain unread until Zoe or I tell them the contents should be made public, but—” He shrugged. “People get curious.”
Dominic looked fearful. “What does it say?”
“It details Corene’s accusations against you, sworn before witnesses at the booth of promises.”
Now Dominic appeared so stunned he was almost incapable of speech. “If you—but you—this letter—”
Darien enumerated on his fingertips. “If you ever—in public where I can see you or in private when I learn about it—approach my daughter again. If you ever speak of her to anyone else, and word makes its way back to me. If you ever lay a hand on another young girl, whether a maid in your household or a daughter of the Five Families, and I learn of the infraction. If any of these things ever happens, from now until I am dead, I will destroy you. That’s all. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Goodbye.”
Now Dominic burst into fury, lunging to his feet and shouting in Darien’s face, banging his fist on the table and screaming that he wouldn’t stand for this abuse, he would call in his friends, he would start a campaign of retribution against the regent that would rock the whole city. You have no idea how powerful I am, Darien Serlast! Alys, too, was on her feet, but her words were low and bitter, almost indistinguishable beneath Dominic’s rant. Josetta only caught a phrase or two, something like I have outwitted you before, Darien. You mustn’t think I’ve forgotten all your weaknesses. Darien barely reacted; he didn’t even stand. He just sat there gazing up at them, his hands folded before him on the desk, allowing them to shout themselves hoarse.
It was only a minute before four burly footmen entered the room and stood suggestively by the door, at which point Darien came to his feet.
“I think we all understand each other,” he said pleasantly. “The servants will see you out.” And he bowed to both of them and then simply stood there waiting until they finally snatched up their things and stalked for the door.
Where Alys turned for a final parting shot. “You’re not as clever as you think you are, Darien,” she said. “You make mistakes all the time.”
“I do,” he said. “And then I fix them, which is more than I can say for you.”
She actually laughed. “Oh, no,” she said. “This time I’m not committing any errors at all.” And with that cryptic remark, she swept through the door, close on her husband’s heels. Darien followed, probably to make sure they actually left the house.
For her part, Josetta couldn’t speak, couldn’t stand, couldn’t move. She had always hated confrontation, always felt sick to her stomach when she’d been caught in the poisonous plotting carried out at the palace. For some reason, the casual brutality in the southside slums didn’t affect her the same way, maybe because it was so direct and obvious. She couldn’t tolerate these court games, couldn’t scheme and counterscheme without check and without mercy. She sat at the little desk, staring down at the patterns of roses and flutes, and waited until she stopped trembling.
• • •
The other problem Darien was supposed to be solving was Odelia. As soon as Prince Ghyaneth headed over the mountains to Soeche-Tas, Romelle and her entire entourage decamped.
“We’d never see them in Chialto again if Romelle had her way,” Zoe observed over a casual dinner one night. Well, it wasn’t entirely casual, since Mirti and Elidon had been invited. Anytime there were two primes, two princesses, one queen, and the regent at a table, talk was bound to be political.
“Well, she will return when state affairs demand her presence,” Darien said in his peremptory way. “And I’ve made it very clear Odelia must be in her train. We need to see the actual heir.”
“I made the same point to her,” Mirti said.
“And I,” Elidon added. The eldest queen was a full-figured and forceful woman of great intelligence, patience, and subtlety. Aside from Darien, she had always been the person Josetta was least inclined to cross. She was elay, but it hardly showed. “In fact, I made the point with so much emphasis that I believe she will comply with our wishes.”
Mirti grinned over at her. The two women had always been allies, and since Elidon had been widowed, there had been much speculation that they were lovers as well. Josetta had even heard a few snickers about this being the true reason Elidon had never borne Vernon any heirs.
“Did you make Romelle cry?” inquired the hunti prime. “I thought you had vowed to stop doing that.”
“Nonsense. I never promised any such thing.”
“Well, I don’t particularly need her weeping, I just want her to bring Odelia to court,” Darien said. “I have developed a strong urge to verify with my own eyes that the heir to the throne is, in fact, healthy and strong.”
“And if she brings Mally instead?” Zoe asked. Everyone looked at her, most of them frowning. Zoe went on, “If she truly believes Odelia is in danger, she’ll leave the girl behind. That’s what I’d do if I was worried about my daughter’s safety. I wouldn’t care what any of you said.”
“So how do we counter that?” Darien said. “I can promise to put every resource at her disposal. I can send her a hundred guards. Odelia need never be more than six inches from a soldier.”
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Elidon said. “If Romelle believes someone threatened Odelia—and if, as seems highly likely, that someone was Alys—maybe we simply remove the threat. Banish Alys from the city.”
There was a short silence as they all considered that. “It appeals to me, simply because I like the idea of Chialto without Alys,” Mirti said. “But unless we have proof of her malice, I don’t think we can banish her. She still has allies here. And we can hardly present ourselves as an impartial ruling body if we start getting rid of people just because we don’t like them.”
Now Josetta was watching Corene, whose gaze had dropped to her plate. Zoe watched her, too, but neither of them said anything.
“The fact is, even if she was living in the western provinces, Alys could hire someone to harm Odelia,” Darien said. “Even if we bundled her off to Berringey, she could still be plotting.”
“I suppose that’s why the people in Berringey kill off all their heirs,” Josetta said. “To stop just this kind of scheming.”
“That’s exactly why,” Darien agreed. “It’s effective, of course, but barbaric. I can’t imagine that even Romelle would look with favor on such a policy.”
“Well, I for one think Romelle is being unreasonable,” Mirti said roundly. “Here are the facts. We have the power and the resources to protect Odelia as well as any child can ever be protected. And even so, no one is ever completely safe. People fall sick, they drown, they are run over by elaymotives, they are betrayed by their closest confidantes. You must accept these facts and move forward with your life.”
“I agree,” Darien said. “Now we must convince Romelle.”
• • •
Josetta was heartily tired of all of them—Romelle, Odelia, Alys, Ghyaneth, every political topic endlessly rehashed at the dinner table—by the time she returned to the shelter a couple of days later. Unless she was suddenly summoned to the palace for some urgent reason, she thought she mi
ght stay southside until the empress of Malinqua arrived. It sounded deliciously relaxing to be free of the brangling and speculating for so long.
Of course, the shelter came with its own problems, and Josetta had neglected it so much lately that many had become critical. First among them was the fact that they were simply running out of room.
“I thought it was just the usual spillover from Quinnahunti, but we’ve been full every night since changeday, and more people are coming all the time,” Callie told her. “I can feed them all, but I don’t know where to put them at night. I’ve let some of them sleep on the floor in the dining room. When the infirmary’s free, some of them sleep there. Last night, I think three men bedded down in the baths, and a woman and her baby slept in the temple. But it won’t do.”
“We need another dorm—a separate place,” Josetta said. “We’ve talked about it before.”
“You could buy one, if you had the money, but who’d fix it up? Because every single building in southside is falling down. Except this one.”
“I hired workmen to renovate this place, and I can hire some again,” Josetta said. “But it was so much work!”
“Make it a smaller place,” Callie suggested. “Just rooms. Everyone can still come here for the meals.”
“That makes sense,” Josetta said. “So let’s start looking for a place nearby.”
“You still have to find the money,” Callie objected.
Josetta thought of the mortgages and financial documents Darien had flung across his desk to Dominic. My wife is a very wealthy woman. “I think I’ll find some backers,” she said. “Let’s look for the real estate first.”
• • •
Rafe Adova thought it was a fine idea for Josetta to buy more property in the slums, when she told him about her plans. “Well, let me rephrase,” he said over dinner on firstday. “I think it’s a terrible monetary investment, and I’ve started to pay attention to finances these days! But it’s a wonderful thing for you to do. You want me to look at property with you?”
