by Sharon Shinn
“I thought you couldn’t understand what he was saying when he was in animal form,” Kirra said.
“I could tell what Tayse was thinking,” Cammon replied. He twisted the handle and opened the door. “Ready?”
Senneth slid over on the seat, closer to the door. “Always ready to serve you, liege.”
Chapter 21
TWO DAYS AFTER GOOD RELATIONS HAD BEEN RESTORED with Jasper Paladar, Wen spent the morning watching Karryn fight a few rounds with Davey in the training yard. When the bout was over, Karryn was covered in mud and wiping a blade against the trousers she had begun to wear for these sessions. And then, in one of those transformations that Wen was beginning to expect of the serramarra, she skipped in a circle and performed a few dance steps.
“Willa, I hope someone told you. I’m going to Lindy’s tonight. Demaray is having a dinner to welcome Ryne Coravann to the city. There will be dozens of people there, and maybe a little dancing. It will be utterly delightful!” She sobered immediately. “But I know some of you must come with me, and I promise to behave very well.”
Wen was amused. “Yes, indeed, your uncle told me, for he and your mother are going, too. He said your mother was even planning to host some of her own events, so she must consider the serramar very special.”
“Well, it’s been so long since anyone from the other Houses has come to visit us,” Karryn said frankly. “It’s quite exciting.”
“We’ll be ready to go when you’re ready to leave.”
Davey climbed to the top of the railing and watched Karryn hurry back toward the house. “And who gets the honor of escorting serra Karryn to this grand party?” he asked.
She looked him over. He was still wearing the splint on his wrist, but it didn’t seem to be slowing him down any, and this was the sort of outing that appealed to him. Davey liked people; he liked the color and excitement of any big event, even if he was only stationed on the outskirts. “You can, if you like,” she said. “If Jasper and Serephette and Karryn are all going, we’ll need at least six of us to watch them.”
He nodded. Two guards to a subject as a bare minimum; that was the rule she had drilled into them so relentlessly that all of them accepted it now as unquestionable truth. At the same time, she would never allow them to empty out the compound. Someone must be left behind to patrol the grounds to prevent trouble from breaking in while the residents were merrymaking elsewhere.
“Glad to go,” he said. “You?”
She hesitated. With Jasper gone, she would have the evening entirely to herself, except for what portion she spent taking her turn walking the perimeter. But what would she do with herself on a night completely free of distractions? Play cards in the barracks? Pick out another book from the library and read? “Probably,” she said. “I like to keep my eye on Karryn. But you can round up the others.”
“Best uniforms, I suppose,” he said.
For these had finally arrived, handsome gray outfits set off by black trim, black cuffs, and black sashes sewn with mock pearls. They had all pretended to laugh at the extravagance of the material—high-quality wool, with piping of satin—but all of them were secretly pleased to own such fine sets of clothing. Karryn and Serephette had ordered new boots for the lot of them as well, polished black leather with tough soles. Very smart and very practical. The guards loved these, too.
“Outings like this one are the reason we got the uniforms in the first place,” Wen said.
“Good. I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes.”
Of course, it was closer to six hours before the small caravan was ready to depart from Fortune and make the short trip to the Coverroe place. Serephette and Jasper climbed straight into the coach, but Karryn paused to show off her dress to the guards. It was a very dark burgundy, full in the skirts and the sleeves, tight at the bodice and the cuffs, and its dramatic color flattered her skin and her dark hair. Its primary ornamentation appeared to be ribbons, for long thin streamers of burgundy fluttered from each wrist and were woven into the braids that formed part of her coiffure. Another ribbon was tied around her throat and supported a great dewdrop pearl that fell just where her housemark was branded into her flesh.
“Don’t you simply love this dress?” she demanded, dipping into a curtsey for them, to demonstrate how the skirt belled out around her.
“It’s lovely, serra,” Moss replied, managing to keep her voice serious.
“I’d trip over the hem before I took three steps, but it is beautiful,” Wen agreed.
“Can’t imagine anyone will look prettier than you do,” Davey said.
Serephette called from the coach. “Karryn! What can be taking you so long? Get in the carriage right now.”
Davey stepped up to lend her a hand, and Karryn smiled at him and climbed inside.
The trip was short, but the way was crowded. Wen preferred open road to a crowded thoroughfare any day, because you could see your probable hazards and had room to maneuver. She rode behind the carriage and spent the whole journey restlessly scanning the buildings they passed, gauging the striking distance of a weapon thrown from one of the windows, and eyeing the clumps of vegetation, wondering if they harbored assassins. She was pleased, when she glanced at Malton next to her, to note that he was doing the same. Not a skill most of these soldiers had practiced much before they came under her tutelage. Before she was done with them, any one of them would be good enough to ride to Ghosenhall and offer to serve the queen.
She could not decide if she would be filled with satisfaction or despair if Amalie completed the ranks of the Riders with someone Wen had trained.
The coach made it to the Coverroes’ house without incident and deposited its passengers at the front door. Wen waited until the Fortunalt party was safely inside, then nodded to her guards. Four of them melted into the shadows to patrol the grounds as long as the dinner lasted. Wen and Davey made their way around back to enter the house through the kitchens. The staff was familiar with them by now, and few of them even looked up when Wen and Davey stepped in.
“You’d just better keep out of the way,” the head cook said, ladling gravy over a platter of meat. “If any of my girls trip over you while they’re serving, I’ll have plenty to say to Lady Demaray.”
“You’ll forget we’re here,” Wen said, and pushed through the door into the service hall.
Dozens of visits to the Coverroe house during the past six weeks had familiarized Wen with its basic layout, so she led Davey through the dark corridors that ran parallel to the main rooms until they came to a door that overlooked the dining hall. She didn’t like it that Karryn was out of her sight for a short period of time while all the guests gathered in a small salon, but soon enough a door across the room opened, and the brightly colored crowd began to file in. Wen first picked out the people she was here to care for—and didn’t Jasper Paladar look handsome in his finely tailored coat with the burgundy waistcoat embroidered all over with pearls—and then began assessing the rest of the company. Demaray was dressed in a springlike yellow that made her hair seem fairer, while Lindy was in a rose-pink dress that gave her an ethereal air, much in contrast to Karryn’s striking darkness. Wen recognized Edwin Seiles and his wife, Katlin; the disreputable Coren Bauler; and a handful of other Fortunalt nobles. But there were plenty of strangers present also, and she made a point of examining each one thoroughly.
It was quickly obvious which one must be the much-anticipated Ryne Coravann. He was seated at Demaray’s right, in the place of honor, and Karryn had been given the prime position of the chair right next to him. Wen had to admit that he was a most attractive young man, with an air of rakish charm. He couldn’t have been more than twenty and was slimly built, with rich black hair that fell across his face in a careless fashion. He was finely dressed, of course, but his jacket was unbuttoned and the collar points of his shirt were uneven. A young woman across the table was speaking to him as she sat down, and he slouched into his own chair and gave her a devastating smile.<
br />
“Oh, I remember you from Helven last spring,” he drawled, and the girl blushed pink and smiled and looked as if she had just been named princess of the realm.
Well, there wouldn’t be much Wen could do if danger came stalking Karryn in the person of Ryne Coravann. He wasn’t the sort who employed swords and daggers; he would do his work with flattery and laughter, and there was no defense for a girl’s heart against weapons like those.
Servants brushed by Wen and Davey to carry in the meal. Wen flattened herself against the wall and continued to watch. Ryne had brought a wineglass in with him and emptied it in a final gulp; now he picked up a second glass already on the table, and finished that while servants were still making the rounds of the table. He turned to Karryn and gave her that rogue’s grin.
“I can’t believe I never met you before tonight,” he said. “I go to all the summer balls, and I’ve never once seen you at any of them.”
Karryn was making no attempt to hide her delight at his attention. For a girl who could be so self-conscious, she was responding with remarkable ease. She tossed her beribboned hair and said, “My mother thought I was too young to go out in society much, but that’s going to change this summer. You might be seeing quite a lot of me.”
“Oh, I hope so,” he said, his long fingers playing with the stem of his glass. “Where will you go? Helven? Nocklyn? Farther north? Eloise Kianlever has some of the best parties. Brassenthwaite isn’t much fun, but of course everyone goes whenever Kiernan entertains because he almost never does. Kiernan wants everyone to know he runs the wealthiest House in Gillengaria, so he doesn’t stint with anything.”
Wen missed Karryn’s response—as more servants arrived, carrying more platters, the clatter of eating and drinking and general conversation made it impossible for her to hear any more individual interactions. She thought she had gotten a fair measure of Ryne Coravann in those few minutes, though, particularly when she added in the comments Lindy Coverroe had made about him earlier. A charming wastrel, addicted to good food, good wine, and good company. Unlikely to turn to violence, but a dangerous man in his own way.
Wen withdrew her attention from Karryn for the moment and glanced around the table again. Serephette was seated between Edwin Seiles and an older gentleman who appeared to be listening to her conversation with gravest interest, and she looked quite animated as she talked to him. The evening was young yet, of course, but Serephette appeared to be enjoying herself. Perhaps she would not find any occasion to sweep to her feet and go stalking from the room.
Jasper Paladar also seemed most felicitously placed, between two women who were close to his age or a little younger. Both had that indefinable air of breeding that, in Wen’s experience, always marked a member of the nobility. While Wen watched him, he smoothly divided his conversation between the two of them, making first one smile and then the other laugh. The woman on his right wore a chaste dress with a neckline too high to show off a housemark, if she had one; but the woman on his left was not afraid to display her cleavage, and she leaned forward a little every time she spoke to him, as if to make sure he didn’t manage to overlook it.
Wen tried to remember the last time she had worn a dress, let alone something that emphasized her figure. She thought maybe she never had.
Not that she would be displaying herself to Jasper Paladar even if she were to wear such a thing.
Nothing much of interest happened during the meal, except Ryne Coravann continued to drink wine and flirt with Karryn. He must imbibe on a fairly regular basis, Wen thought, for he showed no overt signs of inebriation and Karryn continued to look as though she was enjoying his company. Not exactly a point in his favor.
“I’d be on the floor heaving my guts out if I’d downed half of what he’s been drinking,” Davey muttered in her ear.
She silently agreed, but all she said was, “Nobles are different.”
Davey made a rude noise. “Not that different.”
Once the meal ended, Demaray shepherded everyone into another room to pass the rest of the evening in casual conversation. Wen and Davey followed servants’ hallways till they were outside this new venue—a parlor of sorts, comfortably set up with groupings of chairs and small tables. Footmen circled the room, offering trays holding sweets and wine. Ryne Coravann disdained the comfits but he snagged two glasses of wine, offering one to Karryn.
Karryn smiled at him, took the goblet from his hand, and sipped at it. She must have told Ryne that she didn’t like the taste of this particular vintage, for he made a great show of taking her glass from her hands, drinking from it, and uttering a pronouncement that had her laughing. Then he held his own glass to her mouth and encouraged her to try the contents, and when she did, he gazed down at her with a lazy smile. She nodded and kept hold of his glass, while he emptied hers in a couple of swallows.
That was the end of their tête-à-tête, though. Lindy Coverroe descended upon them in a swirl of pink and the other young women of the party crowded close behind her. Soon the laughing Ryne Coravann was surrounded by a bevy of girls, all of them giggling and blushing. Wen cast a quick glance around the room to see the other young men looking somewhat disgruntled, while the older adults seemed either amused or completely oblivious. Serephette fell into the latter category. She was seated on a small divan against the wall, engrossed in her discussion with the man who had been her partner at dinner.
Jasper was also among the visitors seeming to pay no attention to the guest of honor. For he was standing on the far side of the room in a small alcove created by the edge of the great fireplace, and he, too, was deep in conversation. Demaray Coverroe stood so close to him that she was able to rest her hand upon his arm. She was gazing up at him as if she were Ryne Coravann and Jasper Paladar a freshly broached bottle of the sweetest wine she was ready to gulp down in a single swallow.
Well. None of Wen’s concern if Jasper Paladar allowed himself to be consumed by the Coverroe widow.
Wen spent much of the rest of the evening keeping her attention studiously on Karryn. Finding the rest of the girls at the party keeping a determined ring around Ryne Coravann, Karryn made her way to other groups—the young married couples, the older dowagers, even the middle-aged men, who tended to stand together to discuss matters of absolutely no interest to girls Karryn’s age. She did not look particularly at ease as she circled the room—indeed, twice Wen saw her pause to take a deep breath before approaching some knot of individuals—and she realized that Serephette or, more probably, Jasper had coached her on a serramarra’s social duties. But this was a forgiving crowd. No one met her with anything but welcome, and Wen could actually see her confidence growing as the evening progressed.
She’ll do just fine at a ball in Helven, Wen thought, feeling a small surge of pride. If she’s allowed to go.
Who would have thought Wen would ever have cared about the success of any serramarra at any ball across the Twelve Houses?
It was well past midnight when the dinner guests began dispersing. Ryne Coravann was sprawled on a sofa—still conscious, still engaged in conversation, but a little disheveled and clearly, by this time, too drunk to stand. That didn’t seem to bother Lindy Coverroe, who perched beside him and laughed immoderately at whatever he was saying, or the other two girls who stood behind the furniture, giggling. But Wen saw Serephette and a few of the older women give him looks that ranged from concern to disgust.
A beautiful, dissolute boy. Well on his way to becoming a ruined, polluted man.
Not Wen’s problem, unless he involved Karryn in any of his pursuits.
And then, only Wen’s problem for as long as she stayed.
Chapter 22
OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, WEN HAD MANY OPPORTUNITIES to view Ryne Coravann in a number of settings. Whatever reason he had had for coming to Forten City, it didn’t seem to take up much of his time, for he was available for morning teas at Edwin Seiles’s mansion, afternoon cruises on Coren Bauler’s boat, and dinner parties at D
emaray Coverroe’s house. During that stretch of time, Wen didn’t think more than two days in succession went by without some social event that involved Ryne Coravann—and, of course, Karryn simply had to attend them all.
