by Sharon Shinn
She turned to signal to the occupants of the final coach. Eloise more enthusiastically waved everyone back in motion. “Come! Carry those trunks inside! Let us not keep our guests waiting any longer!”
Then followed the usual flurry of arrival, with shouts and curses and questions accompanying the great migration indoors. Eloise curtseyed very low to both Valri and Amalie, and looked absolutely delighted at the thought that her house was the first one these exalted guests had deigned to visit. “You’ll want to go to your rooms, of course,” Eloise said, leading the way, “but then I want you to come right down and visit with me! All of you—Senneth, and both your majesties.”
Senneth flicked Kirra a quick look and Kirra gave an infinitesimal shake of her head. “I think it is possible you do not know my traveling companion,” Senneth said, “for she has been almost as reclusive as the princess herself. She hates to leave her own home but has been persuaded it is time to visit more of Gillengaria.”
Eloise stopped right there in the hallway, causing a corollary confusion in the long line of people following her. “Is that Casserah?” she demanded. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby! Forgive me for my terrible manners—it has been such a distracting morning.”
Eloise kissed Casserah on the cheek as well; she seemed ready to bestow warmth on anyone. Kirra gave her back Casserah’s guarded smile. “Serra Senneth has a way of creating distractions wherever she goes,” Kirra said. “It is rarely quiet in her vicinity.”
Senneth flashed her an indignant look, though she couldn’t put any real force behind it and still maintain her righteous attitude. Eloise continued, unheeding, “I have met your sister dozens of times and liked her very much! I’m so happy you’re here! Do come down with the others and we’ll have a nice little visit without too many other people around.”
Finally the whole lot of them had navigated the many corridors to find a wing that seemed to have been set aside for the royal party. They sorted themselves out into rooms, Kirra marking the rooms assigned to Senneth, Valri, and Amalie. She briefly followed Melly into her own room and found it very agreeable, all white lacy curtains and canopies, airy and serene.
“Try not to shed on the rug,” she said to Donnal, who merely opened his mouth in a canine laugh.
“What would you like to wear to dinner tonight, serra?” Melly asked.
“Mmmm. Something with Danalustrous colors, I suppose, but not the red dress. I’ll wear that to the ball in a couple of days. Something a little less forceful.”
“The pale gold dress and your ruby pendant?”
“Yes, thank you. That would strike just the right note.”
Donnal followed her back out to the hall a few minutes later. A Rider she did not know stood outside the room that must be Amalie’s, but everyone else had disappeared. Probably all in Senneth’s room. She knocked and then entered without waiting, Donnal at her heels.
Tayse and Justin and Senneth stood together in the center of the room, talking quietly. Cammon sat in the window seat, watching a new arrival. “Storian, by the crest on the coach,” he said. There had been a day not so long ago when Cammon couldn’t even name the Twelve Houses, but now he could recognize colors and heraldry. “Some old guy. He doesn’t look very interesting.”
“He’d probably say the same about you,” Justin remarked.
Cammon glanced at him. “I’m not old.”
Kirra joined the others. “Making plans? Anything incendiary?”
“No, Senneth’s going to try not to set the place on fire,” Justin said. “Want to place any bets on the outcome?”
Kirra grinned. “My bet would be—fire, sometime on our trip. Maybe not at Kianlever Court, but before we get back to Ghosenhall.”
“I’m trying to decide,” Senneth said, “if I need to sleep in the same room as the princess. Valri has her own room, so it’s just Amalie and her maid.”
“And a Rider outside the door,” Tayse pointed out.
“Sometimes things come in through the windows,” Senneth said.
“Sometimes things come in through the walls,” Kirra added. The men looked at her, and she shrugged. “When I was wandering the halls in Tilt, I was a bird and a spider and a cat. I don’t know that a Rider would have stopped me.”
Justin was grinning. “If I see any spiders, I’ll step on them.”
Kirra glanced down at the dog. “Let’s try it. See if Donnal can get inside the room with a Rider watching. I am positive he can.”
A wolfish grin from Donnal. He was sure he could, too.
“But are there any mystics who have the kind of power Kirra and Donnal have?” Tayse asked. “Who can transform themselves so completely to another shape and size?”
“I’m sure there are,” Senneth said. “Bright Mother knows I haven’t met every mystic in Gillengaria.”
“Mystics willing to ally themselves with Halchon Gisseltess?” Tayse pursued. “A man who hates and persecutes mystics?”
Senneth shrugged. “They might have their own agenda. Or they might have been promised—who knows?—anything. People have betrayed their own natural allies long before this.”
“It seems obvious,” Kirra said. “You’re here to protect the princess. You have to sleep in the room with her.” She glanced at Tayse, whose face was expressionless. “No matter what your preferences might be.”
Senneth ignored the comment. “So then we have this room empty. I think Justin and Tayse should use it when they’re not on guard. I feel certain Eloise Kianlever would prefer not to house soldiers in one of her finest bedrooms, but as no one will be able to keep track of the Riders anyway, she won’t know who’s here when and why. And if the two of you are sleeping nearby, and there’s a Rider outside the room and I’m inside it, surely the princess will be safe.”
For the first time, Kirra took this whole exercise seriously. “You really expect an attack on her?” she asked. “That wasn’t all for show?”
Senneth spread her hands. “The king is very, very nervous about this trip outside Ghosenhall. Is he overprotective of his only daughter and his only heir? Or is he right to have kept her so close all these years? I don’t know. I do know that there’s unrest in the kingdom and she could be a target. And I’m here to make sure she survives.”
“As are we all,” Tayse said.
“I’m here to find a husband for Casserah,” said Kirra. “But I’ll do what I can to help you, too, of course.”
Cammon looked over from the window. “What about me? Is there anything in particular you want me to do?”
Senneth turned his way. “I want you to sleep in this room at night with Justin and Tayse. And—pay attention. The way you do. Wake us all up if something odd seems to be happening. Even if it turns out to be nothing. Wake us up anyway.”
He nodded and turned back to the window to watch another new arrival pull up at the front entrance. Suddenly he was up on his knees, wriggling on the window seat, waving out the window as if trying to catch someone’s eyes. “Hey, look! It’s Romar Brendyn!” he cried. “He’s come to Kianlever for the ball!”
CHAPTER 14
THE first dinner at Kianlever Court was the most intriguing and most excruciating period of time Kirra had passed since she’d escaped from Tilt. So much was going on that it was difficult to note and analyze everything.
And she was distracted. All she really wanted to do was make a curtsey to Romar Brendyn, ask urgently after his health and safety, and then spend the rest of the night talking to him, uninterrupted by lesser and less-interesting mortals. Conversely, she hoped she never had to speak to him at all, that she managed to get through the pre- and post-dinner socializing without being introduced to him, that he was seated on the opposite side of the room from her when they went in to dinner.
But she was always aware of him. She always knew where he was standing, to whom he was speaking. Like the sun, he cast a bright circle of illumination around himself, and anywhere he moved, the world grew brighter.
>
This was going to be problematic, Kirra thought. This was going to make it awfully difficult to get through the next few days.
She didn’t do so badly during the hour all the guests gathered in the salon outside the dining hall. Melly had worked hard on her toilette, and she knew she looked beautiful—or rather, that Casserah looked beautiful. The filmy gold dress was cut with a square neckline that showed off the large, smoldering ruby she wore just over her housemark. Melly had twisted her dark hair into some kind of complex weave of braids and curls, using gold ribbons to tie the whole confection in place. Everyone had been most responsive, both strangers and acquaintances murmuring words of praise or admiration.
Eloise Kianlever had made a point of showing Casserah around, almost as if she was as big a prize as Amalie. It was clear to Kirra almost immediately that all the people in the room, all thirty-five or forty of them, were Twelfth House; not a single Kianlever vassal was in attendance, no one whose blood wasn’t absolutely pure.
She took the first chance she had to make this observation, and Eloise laughed. “Oh, they’ll all be here in two days for the big event! But today’s their Shadow Ball, so, of course, none of them could attend.”
Kirra felt her eyebrows rise in one of Casserah’s haughty expressions. “ ‘Shadow Ball’?” she repeated.
“What? Don’t you have such a thing in Danalustrous? Perhaps you don’t. Malcolm was never much of one for entertaining. At most of the Houses, whenever they’ve organized some grand event at the hall, the primary vassals plan their own big dance or dinner. There’s a reflected prestige, you know, and I think lesser lords from all over the realm often come. I know that there will be visitors from Coravann and Storian and Nocklyn—even Gisseltess, I believe—at Kell Sersees’s ball tonight. Kell and his family will be here in a couple of days, of course.”
It was not too hard to guess what Casserah would have thought of such a tradition of codified segregation, and Kirra allowed some of Casserah’s contempt to show. “I cannot imagine something like that ever occurring in Danalustrous,” she said.
“Can’t you, dear? Well, perhaps your vassals would enjoy it more than you believe. It’s all very well to think you know what’s best for everybody, but sometimes it’s easy to guess wrong.”
That made Casserah open her eyes even wider—how unlike Eloise!—but her hostess had flitted off to a small group of women who had just entered the room. Kirra followed in time to hear Eloise say, “Majesty! Princess! Serra! How pleased I am that you are here tonight! I hope you will enjoy yourselves.”
“I am certain we will,” Valri answered in a cool voice. The young queen was wearing a dress of emerald-green silk that perfectly matched her eyes; if she had a housemark, it was hidden under the high neckline.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Amalie added in a soft voice. Her own dress was much more subdued, a rose-tinted ivory that brought out the warmth of her strawberry-blond hair and made her brown eyes seem even darker and richer. More modestly cut than Kirra’s, her dress still dipped low enough in front to show a slight swell of adolescent bosom. The pendant she wore to cover her housemark was most cunningly designed, an oval-shaped weave of flat gold bands studded with the twelve gems of the Houses of Gillengaria.
“I like your necklace,” Kirra said.
Amalie gave her a sideways smile. “Do you? I had it made after my own design.”
Which was the most surprising thing she could have said. What eighteen-year-old would be thinking of politics when she was dreaming of finery? And yet, what gems appeared around the throat of the queen and her daughters was always an issue of some concern among the ladies of the Twelve Houses. No one wanted to see the colors of Brassenthwaite favored, for instance, or the ties to Merrenstow flaunted. Queen Pella had always worn a gold charm in the shape of a stylized lion, forgoing jewels altogether. Amalie, it appeared, would be a bit bolder than her mother.
“The princess has a most subtle elegance of mind,” Valri said. Kirra found it impossible to tell if the queen’s voice was sincere or sneering.
“The princess is the most welcome guest I’ve ever had,” Eloise replied.
A slight smile on Valri’s perfect face. “She was pleased to be invited,” the queen said. “It is time for her to become better acquainted with the realm that will be hers someday.”
“Not for some time, I hope,” Senneth said, speaking for the first time. Although she was taller than both the princess and the queen, Senneth was dressed so quietly and standing so still behind them that it was almost possible to forget that she was there. Or—no—Kirra realized that Senneth was using deliberate misdirection to make people overlook her. Senneth could, if she wished, actually turn invisible, but she had probably decided with some regret that she had to maintain at least a faint presence here at Amalie’s first public appearance outside of Ghosenhall.
Amalie gave her a warm smile. “No, not for years and years.”
Eloise laid a hand on Amalie’s arm. “Princess, may I introduce you to my friends? Everyone is most eager to meet you.”
Indeed, a small crowd had built up around them, not too close, but forming a pretty determined wall around their little island of conversation. Amalie would not be able to take five steps without fetching up hard against a marlord or a clutch of serramarra.
“Of course,” Amalie said. “I am most anxious to meet them all.”
Almost as soon as she spoke the words, the two royal women were surrounded by nobility. Kirra was left shoulder to shoulder with Senneth, who was scanning the crowd with her usual efficient attention.
Kirra wondered if she had noticed that Romar Brendyn was twenty steps away talking with what she was sure was forced politeness to Mayva Nocklyn and her husband.
They were silent a moment, and then Senneth softly cursed. “This is a nightmare!” she said under her breath. “There are almost forty people in this room! Justin’s outside the door but how could he even hack his way through the press of people if one of us screamed? I’m ten paces away from her and I couldn’t get to her in time if someone put a dagger through her ribs.”
“Who’s going to attack her in this crowd?” Kirra demanded. “In front of half the Houses? You might be right to sleep beside her at night, but I can’t think she’s in danger in such a public place.”
Senneth sighed. “I am not used to being responsible for anyone except myself,” she said. “I always found it pretty easy to keep myself out of danger. I’m not sure how to protect someone else.”
“I think you can relax here.”
“Tayse would say a bodyguard cannot relax anywhere.”
Kirra made a rude noise to indicate what she thought of Tayse. Senneth smiled and drew back a little to survey her.
“But don’t you look lovely!” Senneth said. “I am used to being jealous of you for your beauty, but tonight I can only be awestruck.”
“All Melly’s work,” Kirra said and added, “I like your dress.” It was a deep metallic brown cut on simple lines. It offered just enough décolletage to show off Senneth’s simple pendant, a gold disk wrapped in a sunburst filigree. “The color suits you.”
“I’ve got a lot of dark tones in my wardrobe for this trip,” Senneth said. “My way of appearing unobtrusive.”
Kirra grinned. “All you have to do to remain unobtrusive is not set anything on fire.”
“I can manage that. I think. If everyone else behaves.”
They talked idly for a few more moments, Senneth’s attention never straying far from the princess. It hadn’t taken long, Kirra noted, for the young men of the gathering to make their way to Amalie’s side; already, she was two deep in serramar and their cousins. Not a surprise, of course. She was the most eligible woman on the continent, and lovely besides. Kirra just hoped she was enjoying herself and not feeling overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of attention. But the expression on Amalie’s face was open and friendly. Her smile appeared to be one of genuine amusement.
Valri stood a few feet away, watching Amalie even more intently than Senneth. What a strange woman, Kirra thought. I cannot bring myself to like her.
A laughing voice sounding almost in her ear had the effect of turning her attention from the queen. “There you are!” a woman exclaimed. “I have been wanting to meet you all night.”
It was Mayva Nocklyn, dressed in the height of fashion and showing a certain smugness on her round, pretty face. Beside her stood a tall, rather unpleasant-looking man wearing the Nocklyn colors. Kirra was fairly sure Casserah had never met either of them before, though Kirra was well acquainted with the flighty Mayva.
She gave the stiff and formal curtsey that Casserah reserved for the people she didn’t like. “I don’t think I know you,” she said.
“No, indeed, I think you hardly know anybody!” Mayva replied in her breathless voice. “I’m Mayva. Els Nocklyn’s daughter, you know. My father’s sick, so I go everywhere in his place. This is my husband, Lowell.”
