‘The less said about her, the better. She had ideas above her station, that one.’ The castle-keep sniffed primly. ‘Come here, Leif.’
Florin went over, telling herself that Cobalt couldn’t possibly recognise her after all this time.
The usurper cast Florin an assessing look.
‘Surely you mean Leiflyr, Yegora?’ Cobalt’s smiled. ‘That male attire fooled me at first, but I swear she’s too pretty to be a boy.’
His charm had no effect on Florin. She could not accept false coin. ‘Just Leif, sor.’
‘Mark my words, Leif.’ Cobalt winked at the castle-keep. ‘This place would fall apart without Yegora’s steady hand on the reins.’
The castle-keep blushed. ‘Stop your blandishments.’
‘She rescued me from a pig sty,’ Cobalt said. ‘The state the Merofynians left this place in... I don’t know what I would have done without her.’
Cheeks very pink, Yegora spread out the guest list. ‘Everyone accepted your invitation, except for the abbess. I still haven’t heard from her.’
‘I could send some men down to the castle oratory and haul the highest-ranking nun up here,’ Cobalt muttered. ‘But who knows what the stupid women would do? Sylion’s nuns are as unyielding as the frosts of winter.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll win the abbess over,’ the castle-keep said. She tapped the list. ‘I would put the Merofynian captains at this table with the old Rolencian nobility, but the lords might take offence. I could put the Merofynians with the merchant markizes and their markizas.’
While she’d been speaking, the new chambermaid had arrived and begun emptying the buckets into the tub.
Cobalt nodded. ‘I need them all to recognise my claim to the throne. They know I’ve confiscated estates from Byren’s loyal lords. As long as I hold those titles and estates in reserve—’
‘King Byren the Fourth was your grandfather. That should be enough for them!’
‘Ah, Yegora...’ Cobalt shook his head. ‘The nobles will never let me forget my father was a bas—’ He broke off, staring intently at the chambermaid.
The castle-keep frowned. ‘Illien?’
‘You.’ Cobalt snapped his fingers at the chambermaid. ‘Come here.’
The girl hugged the empty buckets to her chest and trotted over, eyes lowered, cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sorry, sor. I didn’t mean to spill the water. I’ll mop it up.’
‘Quiet.’ He lifted her chin. ‘Bring the candle closer, Leif.’
Florin did as she was bid.
Cobalt turned the girl’s face this way and that, studying her features. ‘Halcyon’s Blessing, she’s the spitting image of Piro. Wouldn’t you say so, Yegora?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I never saw the kingsdaughter but at a distance.’
‘Exactly. Most people only ever saw Piro Kingsdaughter from a distance. She was dainty and pretty, just like this lass. Why haven’t I seen her before?’
‘She just arrived today.’
‘That’s lucky.’ He addressed the bemused girl. ‘Who have you spoken with today?’
She glanced at those present. ‘Apart from you, only my sister and old Mirona, your lordship.’
‘Excellent. How old are you?’
‘Just turned fourteen, sor.’
Cobalt smiled. ‘Turns out, I won’t have to rely on my dinner guests to legitimise my claim to the throne. Today Rolencia wept for Fyn Rolen Kingson. Tonight, Rolencia will rejoice when they hear how I rescued Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter from the Merofynians and kept her hidden in my chambers all this time. Tonight I will stake my claim on the throne by becoming betrothed to Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter.’
The castle-keep stood open-mouthed. ‘But... But won’t the dinner guests know this is not the kingsdaughter?’
‘Not this lot. The lords who were closest to the old king fell at the Battle of Narrowneck. Queen Myrella...’ His voice faltered. ‘The queen kept Piro out of the public eye because the girl could not be relied upon to behave herself. The new abbot is eager to please me, and those merchant markizes with the royal seal still fresh on their titles would cheer if I called a goose-girl the kingsdaughter.’
‘What of the castle servants?’ Florin asked, before she could censor her tongue.
‘Good point.’ Cobalt turned to the castle-keep. ‘What of the servants, Yegora? Will they denounce this Piro?’
The castle-keep frowned. ‘When I arrived, there were hardly any of the original servants left. Most had run off and the rest had been enslaved and taken back to Merofynia. There might be an old servant here and there but, unless they served the kingsdaughter, they wouldn’t know her face.’
‘And they’ll keep quiet if they know what’s good for them,’ Cobalt said. ‘I’ll speak to Amil. He’ll send Old Mirona and the sister home with a bag of coins to ensure their silence.’
‘But...’ the girl began.
‘But nothing, Piro.’ He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. ‘You are my sweet little half-cousin, grateful to me for saving your life. Do as you’re told, and you won’t regret it. How would you like to wear a crown, fine jewels and velvets?’
Two bright spots of colour burned in the girl’s cheeks.
‘Well?’ Cobalt pressed.
The girl bobbed her head, too tongue-tied to speak.
Florin seethed.
‘Excellent, much better behaved than the real Piro. She was a spiteful little wyvern.’ Cobalt turned away from the girl to the castle-keep. ‘See that she is bathed and dressed as befits a kingsdaughter. For tonight, she can keep her mouth shut, but tomorrow I want you to train her to act the part. No more calling me sor.’
The castle-keep’s mouth dropped open in dismay.
‘On second thoughts, you have more than enough to do.’ Cobalt called over his shoulder. ‘Amil, come in here.’
‘My lord?’ The Ostronite manservant entered so promptly, Florin guessed he had been listening at the door.
‘I can manage, milord,’ the castle-keep insisted.
‘No, Yegora. I shouldn’t have asked.’ Cobalt took her worn hand in his, planting a kiss on her cheek. ‘I know how hard you work for me. Amil’s been complaining that he doesn’t have enough to do.’ Cobalt stepped back, beckoning the manservant. ‘Can you turn this chambermaid into Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter?’
‘But of course, my lord.’ The Ostronite manservant was a little shorter than Florin, and solidly built for all that his hands fluttered like delicate butterflies. Amil caught her studying him and looked her up and down. He gestured dismissively. ‘Why, I could even teach this great lump of a girl to pass for a noble.’
Cobalt looked startled then gave a short bark of laughter. He cast Florin a thoughtful look. ‘I think you’d be surprised.’ And before Florin could grasp that she’d been complimented—not that she cared—he’d moved on. ‘Yegora, go through Piro’s clothes and find something suitable for her to wear tonight. Let someone see you and let slip that I’ll be making a great announcement tonight. Lay the groundwork, so that the castle servants spread rumours of Piro’s return to the nobles.’
Clever. Florin was impressed.
Cobalt gestured to her. ‘Help my betrothed bathe, Leif. My sweet cousin needs a bath scented with rose petals. She’ll wear the finest of velvets and jewels, as befits a kingsdaughter. Meanwhile, Amil will help me change in the other chamber.’
They went off, leaving Florin alone with the girl, who trembled as Florin took the buckets from her hands. Did she realise she’d be killed the moment she was no longer useful? In fact, now that Florin was a party to this deception, her life was also in danger.
Not that it mattered.
Florin went to fill the buckets one last time and returned, to find Amil waiting in the hall door. He took her arm, his grip surprisingly strong. ‘The master wants you to keep watch over the new Piro Kingsdaughter. Let me know if she is unhappy. You understand?’
Florin nodded. She understood all right. Cobalt was trying to turn her ag
ainst the chambermaid, just as he had turned the castle-keep against Amil, ensuring that both strove to win his affection and each would betray the other for a smile from him.
‘Good. The master is generous,’ Amil told Florin, ‘but he is also sharp. Don’t ever cross him.’
Then he opened the door for her, going across the chamber to Cobalt’s private room to help his master dress for dinner.
Frustrated, Florin poured the water into the tub then stepped back. ‘Your bath is ready, kingsdaughter.’
No sound came from behind the screen.
‘Kingsdaughter?’
Florin peered over the screen. No sign of the girl or her clothes. With a curse, Florin darted into the hall. If the chambermaid had panicked and fled, she would need her things.
Florin ran to the female servants’ chamber, throwing the door open. A cheap, painted statuette of Goddess Halcyon sat on a stool by one of the pallet beds, where an old woman lay. A votive candle burned, illuminating the statuette, the old woman and, in the far corner, the girl. Seeing Florin, she gave a squeak of fright and clutched her bundle to her chest.
‘Are you mad?’ Florin whispered, furious. ‘Leave your things and come with me.’
The girl did not release the bundle. In fact, she glanced over Florin’s shoulder as if contemplating flight.
Florin strode over. ‘Here, give me that.’ She took the bundle, dropping it onto the bed.
‘Leave her be,’ Old Mirona croaked.
‘She ran from her post,’ Florin said, sending the girl a warning look. ‘The castle-keep will be ever so angry.’
‘Eh, you can’t do that, Varuska.’ Old Mirona shook her head. ‘Back to work with you. You’ll be lucky to escape with only a tongue lashing.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing,’ Florin said quickly. ‘Varuska, that’s your name?
The girl nodded. ‘Ruska for short. But—’
‘Come on.’ Florin drew Varuska out into the hall, where she confronted her. ‘You’re lucky I was the one who came after you. What were you thinking?’
‘His lordship scares me. I want to go home. I don’t want—’
‘It doesn’t matter what you want. Cobalt’s got it into his head that you’ll do for Piro and that’s it.’
‘Ask Anatoley to play Piro. She’d like to be a kingsdaughter. It was her idea to come to the castle.’
‘Anatoley’s your sister?’
Varuska nodded.
Florin considered this. ‘She’s the right size and age, but she doesn’t look enough like Piro. Not like you do.’ The resemblance was uncanny. Right down to mannerisms.
‘Can’t I just go home?’ Varuska tugged on Florin’s arm, trying to slip from her grip. ‘I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I don’t want to marry Lord Cobalt. He smiles, but when he touches me I feel cold inside. Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone.’
‘If you ran, I’d be in trouble.’
‘We could both run.’
‘Not yet.’ Florin smiled as Varuska’s eyes widened. The girl was quick. ‘I’ll get you out of the castle, I promise, but there’s something I must do first.’
‘You’ll get me out? What about Anatoley?’
‘Cobalt’s sending your sister home tonight,’ Florin reminded her. ‘Play along for now. Come on. We need to go back before they realise you tried to run.’ And she drew the girl along the corridor.
‘You’re right.’ Varuska had to take two steps for each of Florin’s. ‘If they think I’m going to run, they’ll set a guard on me.’
‘Exactly. You’re smart.’
‘No one’s ever called me smart before.’ Varuska paused to look up at Florin. ‘Only pretty.’
‘It doesn’t pay to let them know you’re smart. So pretend to be eager for pretty dresses and jewels. Make sure they underestimate you.’
Varuska’s eyes widened. ‘You’re clever.’
Maybe, but was she clever enough to outwit Cobalt, kill him and ensure Varuska escaped alive? Florin licked dry lips. ‘Come on.’
They slipped into the chamber. To Florin’s relief it was empty. ‘Quick, off with your things and into the tub. You should be almost finished by now.’
Varuska tore off her servant’s cap and gown. Like all girls of her class, she wore no knickers. Useless things.
The sound of the castle-keep’s footsteps reached them.
‘Into the tub.’ Florin guided her in then poured a bucket of water over the girl’s hair. She grabbed some scented soap and began massaging it into Varuska’s scalp. By the time the castle-keep walked in the door, Florin had worked up a good lather.
‘What, not finished yet?’ The castle-keep’s lips pursed in disapproval. ‘This will never do. Rinse her hair.’ She draped a vivid blue gown over a chair. ‘There’s a gown, jewels and beaded slippers. Bathe her, then dry her hair by the fire. Use this head-dress.’ She indicated a little cap inlaid with silver chains and gleaming stones that might have been diamonds. ‘I can’t stay. I have work to do.’ With a sniff, she was gone.
As Florin helped Varuska out of the tub, the girl caught her hand. ‘Will you take a message to my sister? She’ll be worried if they send her home without me.’
Florin hesitated.
‘Please?’
‘It will have to be later tonight. Now let’s get you dry.’
Florin helped Varuska dress in Piro’s gown. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of under garments—lacy pantaloons that came down to her knees, a chemise, two petticoats—and then the blue gown that did up under her breasts.
When it was laced, Florin sat Varuska by the fire to comb her long dark hair. It was almost dry by the time Cobalt returned with Amil.
The lord’s empty sleeve had been pinned up. He wore a coat the same shade of blue as Varuska’s gown, which Florin now realised was the Cobalt Estate’s colour. His coat was tapered at the waist. Knee-high boots, tight trews that moulded to his strong thighs and a hand’s span of lace at this throat and cuffs completed his outfit. When he turned his head, the long curls glinted; his hair had been threaded with jewels.
‘Let me see you, Piro.’ Cobalt spoke sweetly, but it was still a command.
Varuska turned around, looking back over her shoulder. The stance was coquettish, but her expression was earnest.
‘Good. The dress is a perfect fit. Amil, do her hair,’ Cobalt said. ‘Take note, Leif. This will be your task.’
The Ostronite manservant used a heated metal tong to create long ringlets. ‘A few more pins.’ He completed his work with the girl’s hair. ‘Now the zircon cap.’
He pinned the cap, letting the chains and zircons fall to Varuska’s shoulders. Florin could not see the difference between diamonds and zircons.
‘Lovely.’ But Cobalt’s eyes did not light up with the hunger of desire. ‘Show her how to respond to the dinner guests, Amil.’
‘These guests,’ the manservant said, acting the part of a proud noble, ‘they are beneath you. You are a kingsdaughter. You tilt your head so and smile just a little. You keep your hand on your lord’s arm and answer everyone with no more than a nod.’
The girl listened earnestly. Varuska was lucky, Florin decided. Few people would look past her pretty face.
‘Very well. Until we polish the rough edge off your tongue, you’ll keep your mouth shut.’ Cobalt offered his arm.
Varuska took it as she had been instructed.
‘Very good.’ The lord turned her to face Florin. ‘This is Lord Leif, greet him as you’ve been taught.’
‘Lord Leif,’ Varuska murmured, inclining her head.
‘Excellent, cousin, we will deal well together.’ Cobalt kissed her hand. Florin saw Varuska shudder. His lordship must have put it down to excitement, because he squeezed her fingers. ‘Good girl. Come.’
Varuska hesitated.
‘Do not fear. I will be at your side and Amil and Leif will be right behind us. For all that Amil knows how to dress hair, he is a corax of House Nictocor
ax. Ahh, from your expression you have heard of Ostron Isle’s assassins. So you see, you need fear nothing while he is with us.’
A trained assassin? Florin would never have guessed. She expected an Ostronite assassin to be sinister. Although, now that she thought about it, an assassin stood a better chance of getting near their prey if they appeared harmless, and she had certainly underestimated Amil.
So, Florin was there when Cobalt introduced the false Piro and everyone applauded her miraculous escape. She was there when he announced they were to be married on midsummer’s day.
And not one person denounced the imposter.
Chapter Six
GARZIK LOOKED THROUGH the pages until he found a picture of a ship, then he wrote the Utland word for ship and a sentence about it. ‘Try this.’
‘Ship,’ Rusan read then frowned as he sounded out the words. ‘Captain Rusan sails his ship upon the Stormy Sea.’
Garzik nodded. ‘Very good.’
The Utland captain pointed to the book’s original text. ‘Why can’t I read these words?’
‘I thought you wanted to learn to read and write in your own language.’
‘What’s the point when there are no books?’
‘You could write the stories of your people.’
‘Who would read them?’ Rusan countered. ‘Why do you think I made you promise to tell no one? Reading and writing are hot-land skills.’
And Utlanders despised the hot-landers, as they called Garzik’s people.
Yet the captain wanted to learn to read and write. Everything Garzik had been taught about Utlanders had proven to be inaccurate. Yes, they were savage, but only because they had to survive in the savage Utland Isles.
‘You hesitate?’ Rusan bristled. ‘Do you think because I’m an Utlander I won’t be able to—’
‘I was wondering which language to teach you.’ Garzik indicated the page. ‘I chose this book because it was made for the children of nobles and rich merchants to teach them the three languages of the hot-lands. This is the Rolencian word for ship, then the Merofynian word and finally the Ostronite. Which language do you want to learn?’
Rusan frowned. ‘Which is most useful?’
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