Misha seemed a little shocked at first, then put his arm around her and pulled her closer. A world of promise suddenly opened to her as the kiss deepened into something far beyond simple friendship.
Tia pulled away from him, mortified. “I'm sorry …”
“Please,” he said with a smile. “Don't apologize.”
She turned to leave but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
“Tia, don't ever be sorry …”
“I have to go,” she muttered, shaking free of his grasp.
He let her hand go and searched her face. “Will you be back?”
“I don't know,” she said, and then she fled the room, trying to outrun the sudden confusion kissing Misha had evoked.
ord that the new Lord of the Suns was in residence in Bollow spread quickly throughout the city and precipitated a sudden rush of people who had urgent business with him. Dirk didn't have the time or the inclination to deal with any of them. He was on a tight schedule, its urgency dictated by his certainty that the longer he gave his enemies to plot his downfall, the greater the chance they had of succeeding. Forty-one days now before the eclipse. In that time, he had to get everything in place, because the day of the eclipse was going to be the most momentous since Antonov sacrificed his youngest son to bring back the second sun.
When he arrived in the Lord of the Suns’ private study, Claudio Varell presented him with the long list of people seeking an audience. Dirk glanced over it, and then looked up at Lord Varell with despair.
“They all want to see me?”
“Every one of them, my lord,” Claudio confirmed. “And they all claim it's a matter of life or death.”
“I've never even heard of half these people. Who is Master Galen?”
“He represents the Bollow Chamber of Commerce, my lord.”
“What's his problem?”
“There is some concern among his members you might prefer to deal with foreign suppliers … given your nationality.”
Dirk looked at him with a shake of his head. “So he's demanding a meeting to make sure the Church doesn't start ordering vegetables from Dhevyn?”
“I think that is his major concern, my lord.”
“Then get rid of him. Who's Lord Parqette?”
“Ah, Lord Parqette owns most of the vineyards around Bollow.”
“Tell him I don't drink. Who's next on the list?”
“That would be Lady Ortain. She is the widow of Lord Gavan Ortain, who owes the Church rather a large sum of money. No doubt she wishes to meet with you to discuss the debt.”
“How did her late husband come to owe the Church money?”
“His estate borders the Lord of the— your estate, my lord. He purchased a tract of land from the Church to expand his crops, planted it, harvested it and then failed to make good with the payment. I believe he had a gambling problem.”
“Tell her the debt is absolved,” Dirk ordered. “We'll simply take the land back. Is there anybody on that list I have to see?”
“It would probably be impolitic to refuse the Lady Jacinta an audience.”
“Who?”
“The Queen of Dhevyn's envoy, my lord.”
Dirk inwardly groaned. “Jacinta D'Orlon?”
Claudio looked at him oddly. “Are you acquainted with the lady, my lord?”
“I'm acquainted with the gossip about her,” he answered. “Is she here?”
“Waiting in the anteroom, my lord.”
Dirk wasn't sure he was ready for this. Jacinta D'Orlon had convinced Alenor to go to Avacas when she discovered she was pregnant, a decision that almost cost the young queen her life. She was undoubtedly the one who covered for Alenor and allowed her to conduct her dangerous affair with Alexin Seranov in the first place. And she had seriously offended Lord Birkoff from Tolace by the manner in which she'd refused his offer of marriage. To Dirk's mind, she was an irresponsible troublemaker. Alenor might have even sent her here to get her out of Kalarada before she could do any real damage.
“I suppose you'd better send her in,” he sighed. Best to get this over and done with, and then he could get rid of her.
Claudio bowed and left to follow Dirk's orders. A few moments later, a knock sounded on the door and he called permission to enter. But it was not Jacinta D'Orlon who walked in. It was Eryk and Caterina.
“What are you two doing here?”
“We've been shopping in the markets,” Caterina explained.
“Caterina's really good at haggling, Lord Dirk.”
“I'm sure she is,” Dirk agreed with a scowl. “I don't recall giving you two permission to go wandering through the Bollow markets.”
Caterina smiled brightly. “It's all right. I didn't try to escape or anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because I'm your hostage,” she replied, as if that explained everything.
He smiled. “One would think that would be the reason you tried to escape, Caterina.”
“But where would I go?” she asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
“Home to Tolace, perhaps?” he suggested. “The Brotherhood would help you if you asked them, surely?”
“I suppose,” she shrugged, “but what would be the point? Why would I want to go home to sharing a room with four sisters and making baskets all day, when I can live in a palace and be the hostage of the Lord of the Suns?”
Dirk hadn't really thought about it like that. “You're not homesick?”
“I'm having the time of my life.” She frowned suddenly. “You're not thinking of sending me back, are you, Lord Dirk?”
Caterina had picked up the annoying habit of calling him Lord Dirk from Eryk.
“You can't!” she cried in alarm when Dirk didn't reply. Caterina grabbed his hand with both of hers, fell to her knees before him and stared up at Dirk imploringly. “Don't make me go home!”
“Your parents must be worried sick about you, Caterina. They don't know what's happened to you.”
“Yes, they do. I've written them several times. I told Mama where I was and how well you were treating me. And how nice you've been.”
“You wrote to your mother and told her I was being nice?” Dirk asked with a shake of his head. “When did this happen?”
“Ages ago,” Caterina shrugged.
Dear Goddess, what have I unleashed? She's writing to the Brotherhood and telling them I'm nice.
When Dirk didn't answer immediately, Caterina became quite panic-stricken. “You can't send me away, Lord Dirk. I mean … suppose the Brotherhood contract is still out on you? I have to stay. Your life depends on it!”
Somebody else knocked on the door. Dirk absently called permission to enter as he stared down her. “Caterina …”
“You must let me stay with you,” she begged. “Please don't send me away.”
“I can come back later if I'm interrupting something… personal,” a rather amused voice announced.
Dirk's head jerked up. Jacinta D'Orlon was standing at the open door, studying the scene before her with a raised brow. For a moment, he was rendered speechless by the sight of her. He had heard the daughter of the Duke of Bryton described as “pretty,” but confronted with her in person, the word seemed woefully inadequate.
When he realized he was staring, Dirk hurriedly shook himself free of Caterina, wondering what it must look like, with the girl on her knees before him, begging to stay.
“Lady Jacinta?”
“Lord Provin?”
“Er … this is Caterina Farlo,” he said, as the girl climbed to her feet. “She's my hostage,” he added, by way of explanation.
“Obviously,” Jacinta remarked wryly. Then she turned to Eryk with a warm smile. “Hello, Eryk.”
Dirk looked at the boy in surprise. “You know the Lady Jacinta?”
“She was in our carriage on the way from Avacas, Lord Dirk. She said Princess Alenor told her all about you.”
Dirk turned to Jacinta. “She did?”
Jacinta didn'
t answer him. “You must come and visit us in Kalarada someday, Eryk. If your lord will permit it, of course.”
She closed the door and stepped farther into the room. Jacinta was taller than her cousin Alenor, with rich dark hair. She walked with the natural grace that only came with impeccably good breeding. As she neared him, Dirk noticed her eyes but he couldn't decide what color they were. It seemed every time she moved they were a different hue.
No wonder Birkoff had been willing to spend half his fortune trying to win her hand…
Dirk forced his attention to the matter at hand and frowned at Jacinta. “Did you come all this way just to extend an invitation to visit Kalarada to my servant, my lady?”
“Not at all. I came all this way to find out what you're up to, my lord.”
“Would you like us to leave, Lord Dirk?” Caterina asked.
“No,” Dirk told her, for some reason not wanting to be alone with this unsettling young woman. “The Lady Jacinta won't be staying long.”
Jacinta's eyes narrowed a fraction. “You and I need to talk, my lord. And soon.”
“And we shall, my lady. After the swearing-in.”
“Then if you survive the ceremony tomorrow, I will expect to be given a private hearing as soon as you can arrange it.”
“If I survive?”
“You're not out of the woods yet, Dirk Provin, if you think this ceremony is merely a formality. You can be challenged right up until you take the oath.”
“By whom?”
“By any one of the several thousand people who would rather see another Age of Shadows than allow a Dhevynian to be appointed Lord of the Suns,” she suggested. “Particularly the bastard son of the Heretic King of Dhevyn.”
Dirk found himself rapidly reassessing his opinion of Jacinta D'Orlon. She was neither the vapid girl he assumed, nor would she be so easily dismissed as he had hoped.
“Did Alenor send you with a message?”
“She said to wish you luck.”
“Really?”
“No,” Jacinta admitted. “I made that up. Mostly she wants to know why she should trust you in light of everything you've done lately.”
“Because I asked her to,” Dirk replied, in no mood to explain himself to a complete stranger.
“You ask a lot.”
“That's between Alenor and me.”
“I'm curious as to how you manage to keep her trust.”
He met those disconcerting color-changing eyes evenly. “What would it take to win your trust, I wonder?”
Jacinta thought about her answer for a moment. “You could arrange for the Senetians currently searching Dhevyn for refugees from Mil not to go anywhere near my family's orchards near Oakridge. That would probably do it.”
Dirk stared at her in shock. Was her question a trap, or was the cousin of the queen and the daughter of one of the most distinguished and wealthy families in Dhevyn actually harboring fugitives?
“Eryk. Caterina. Out!”
His tone startled them enough that they both hurried from the room without so much as a whimper of protest. Jacinta said nothing as they slammed the door behind them, turning to study Dirk curiously.
“You implicate yourself in treason, my lady.”
“Only if you're a blind follower of the Lion of Senet, my lord. If you're the loyal Dhevynian Alenor believes you to be, then I'm in no danger at all.”
“You've a pretty risky method of testing your theory.”
“But an effective one,” she pointed out, and then she shrugged airily. “Besides, I'm just a silly girl, didn't you know? Accuse me of anything and I'll deny I ever spoke of any refugees in Oakridge and if you find them there, I will simply swoon with shock at the news and it'll be your word against mine.”
“You seem to forget, I have witnesses,” he reminded her, indicating the door where Caterina and Eryk had just gone.
“Your common-born hostage who is obviously besotted with you and your half-witted servant?” she asked. “I think not.”
Dirk shook his head, not at all certain what this woman wanted of him. “Even if I wanted to help the refugees from Mil, I have no say over what Kirsh's forces in Dhevyn are up to. That's something you should have taken up with the queen before you left Kalarada.”
“And implicate her in treason?”
“You're ready enough to implicate yourself, my lady.”
“It's a risk I'm prepared to take. One I almost have to take. I don't see how else I can establish whose side you're on, Dirk Provin. Actions speak louder than words.” Jacinta met his eyes with a blatant challenge. “Will you do it? Will you call off the search?”
“I don't know if I can.”
“Think about it, my lord,” Jacinta suggested. “I'm staying at the Widow's Rest in the city if you wish to see me again.”
Jacinta turned and left the room without another word. Dirk watched her leave, quite speechless. Caterina and Eryk were back so soon after she left that Dirk figured they'd been waiting outside. Caterina closed the door behind her and leaned on it with a knowing smile. “You like her, don't you?”
“What?”
“Lady Jacinta. You like her.”
“I only just met her, Caterina,” he shrugged, wondering how she could have come to that conclusion from a meeting lasting barely five minutes. “I've hardly had time to form an opinion about her.”
“You formed your opinion the moment you laid eyes on her, my lord. I could tell. And it didn't have anything to do with her diplomatic status, either.”
Dirk glared at the young woman in annoyance. “Haven't you got something better to do than stand around here inventing things that don't exist?”
“No.” She shrugged. “Right now, I've nothing better to do at all.”
“Then find something,” he snapped, turning back to the list he had been going through before Eryk and Caterina arrived.
“I'm right, you know,” Caterina told Eryk sagely. “He really likes her.”
“I like her, too,” Eryk agreed. “She's very pretty.”
“Out!” Dirk ordered impatiently. “Both of you!”
“Come on, Eryk,” Caterina said. “Let's go find some lunch. Lord Dirk has a lot on his mind, I think.”
He heard the door closing and glanced up, relieved to find them gone. Dirk sank down in his chair and leaned back. He closed his eyes wearily, thinking perhaps he should send Caterina home. She was starting to get a little too comfortable, although Caterina and Eryk had become such fast friends he was a little worried what sending her away might do to the boy.
Dirk sighed. There was always another complication. Always something he hadn't anticipated…
And right now, at the top of the list of things he hadn't anticipated was Jacinta D'Orlon.
acinta allowed Tael to help her up into her carriage and was being driven back toward Bollow before she let herself think about her meeting with the Lord of the Suns. She loosened the high collar of her light jacket, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable. It couldn't have been her meeting with Dirk Provin, she concluded. He was just a boy, really, no older than she was.
He was nothing like she imagined. Alenor had told her a lot about Dirk but it was colored by her affection for him as a friend. Her cousin spoke of his sense of humor, of his intelligence, of his loyalty (although that was stretching it a bit, perhaps). She'd never mentioned those impossibly cold gray eyes, or the very presence of him. It wasn't like the overwhelming presence of the Lion of Senet, who dominated the room, drawing every eye to him. It was far more subtle than that. Dirk hadn't raised his voice or even said anything terribly profound, but she realized she'd been hanging off his every word. If he had that effect on everyone he met, it was no wonder he had come so far, so quickly. Just the way he spoke, the way you kept searching those unreadable eyes for some hint of what he was thinking, kept you wanting to listen to him.
Jacinta had known Dirk Provin would be dangerous. He couldn't have achieved what he had so far and be anything
else. But she was only just beginning to realize how dangerous. She might have signed her own death warrant by telling him about the refugees in Oakridge. She would know soon enough. There might even be a detail waiting to arrest her when she returned to the inn.
But if there wasn't? If Alenor was right and he was on their side, then he was doing all this to help Dhevyn. Exactly what his plan was remained a mystery, but anyone with the skill to get himself appointed Lord of the Suns probably had a few things up his sleeve even she couldn't guess.
When Jacinta returned to the Widow's Rest, she was quite relieved to find nobody waiting to arrest her. Either she had judged Dirk Provin correctly, or he was waiting for a more opportune time to expose her. She preferred to think—and fervently hoped—the former was the case.
As she walked through the entrance of the inn, she discovered the lobby filled with people waiting to be shown to their rooms. With the swearing-in tomorrow of the Lord of the Suns, travelers had come to Bollow from all over Senet and Dhevyn to witness it. Those who had arrived so close to the ceremony were finding it difficult to get a room. There was barely an empty bed in the whole city.
“Lady Jacinta!”
She turned to the man who hailed her and smiled politely. “Lord Seranov. I didn't expect to see you here in Bollow.”
“Can't miss something as important as the swearing-in of a new Lord of the Suns, my lady,” he declared, brushing the hair from his face, as always. Jacinta often wished she had a pair of scissors handy when she was in Saban Seranov's company. She found his habit irritating beyond belief.
“No, I suppose you can't,” she agreed. “Are your sons not with you?”
“Alexin is still in Kalarada with the Queen's Guard, my lady,” he reminded her. “But if I'd known you were going to be here, I would have insisted Raban accompany me.”
Jacinta smiled. Raban Seranov had as much chance of winning her hand as Lord Birkoff. “Isn't Raban recently a father, my lord? I hear some Shadowdancer in Nova just delivered a healthy boy that bears a remarkable resemblance to your eldest son.”
The Duke of Grannon Rock shrugged. “You know how it is with young people, my lady. They need to run a bit wild before they settle down.”
Lord of the Shadows Page 27
