Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4)

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Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4) Page 23

by Pope, Christine


  It could have been that I only needed something — anything — to hold on to. Somehow, though, I heard the ring of truth in the woman’s words, heard something that gave me a purpose, a direction in which to go.

  “Thank you, Mistress Larrin,” I said. “I will find her.”

  She smiled. “I believe you will.”

  * * *

  Lord Keldryn looked up at me in some exasperation. “You want me to do to what, Your Majesty?”

  “I want you to gather a census of all the households in the city who are seeking to hire a maid or who have hired one in the last few days.”

  My chancellor directed a quick glance heavenward, as if imploring the gods to return my sanity to me. Then he said, in the overly mild tone that generally signaled his displeasure, “And are you requesting this information because of something that Larrin woman told you?”

  “What of it? I have an idea as to where I might find Ashara Millende. That is all you need to know, Keldryn.”

  “And what will you do when — if — you find her?”

  A good question. If it had been asked of me only a day earlier, I would have responded bitterly that I planned to have her locked up in the cell next to her aunt as punishment for her duplicity. Now, however…

  I missed her. Foolish as it might sound after such a short acquaintance, I longed to hear her voice and her light, sweet laugh, to see her beautiful amber-green eyes and the pretty little purse she made with her mouth when something amused her. I could no more put her in a dungeon cell than I could place my own sister there.

  Despite everything, I still wanted Ashara Millende to be my wife. The mere thought of anyone else sitting in the throne beside me, or sharing my bed, was anathema. How exactly I was to manage such a thing, when the taint of magic clung so closely to her, I was not sure. But I was the Emperor of Sirlende, and if I had to change every law that existed regarding the use of magic in order to make Ashara my wife, then I would do so gladly.

  “That is my business,” I said stiffly. “For now, I need to concentrate on locating her. What happens afterward can be decided then.”

  Lord Keldryn merely nodded, but I thought I saw in the weary resignation of his features the realization that I did not intend to punish Ashara at all. Rather, the opposite.

  “Anything else, Your Majesty?” he said, in the most neutral of tones.

  “That will be all, Keldryn. Just make sure the survey is begun at once. We have already wasted too much time.”

  He bowed and left, passing my sister and giving her another bow as she came into my study. She closed the door behind her and fixed me with an expectant gaze.

  “Oh, yes, you were right,” I said with some irritation, because I could see the faint smile on her lips, and the subtle air of I told you so which seemed to attend her. “Mistress Larrin did have some valuable insights, and so I am following up on that now.”

  “I am very glad to hear that.” After pausing a foot or so away from my desk and regarding me for a moment, she said, “I get the impression that you are not pursuing Ashara merely to give her a cell next to her aunt.”

  “No, I am not.” Some days I was not sure whether I should be pleased or annoyed that my sister could read me so well. Luckily, she was the only person who seemed to possess that ability. “It is clear enough to me now that Mistress Larrin did not intend any true mischief, but only used her powers as a means to give her niece an advantage she would otherwise not have. Do you know that Ashara was treated like a servant in her own home, a house that should have been hers but which her stepmother all but stole from her?”

  Lyarris’ eyes widened. “How cruel of her! How on earth did she manage such a thing?”

  “I do not know,” I said, and felt my mouth compress to a tight line. “But I assure you, I intend to find out.”

  * * *

  Of course no one could ignore a summons from the Emperor to appear for a private conference, and Bethynne Millende was no exception. She arrived promptly at eleven the next morning, alone, for I had told her to leave her daughters at home. Tedious they might be, but I could not believe they had had a hand in their mother’s plotting. True, they had benefited from her duplicity, and I disliked them enough for that. But they had been very young when Allyn Millende passed away, so I had to believe that they were innocent at least of the original plot.

  “Your Majesty,” she said in unctuous tones, and curtseyed so low I wondered whether she might topple over.

  “Lady Bethynne,” I replied.

  She straightened and shot me what I assumed she thought was an ingratiating smile. Most likely she assumed I had called her here to give her some sort of reward or other honor for uncovering Mistress Larrin’s use of magic.

  I only regarded her coldly, my face a stiff mask. In doing so, I noticed the gown of fine wool she wore, the rings of gold and garnet, the heavy matching earrings and necklace. Such an ensemble had to have cost a good deal, and, judging by the finery her daughters had worn earlier in the week, she spared no expense to outfit them as well.

  My anger flared at the thought of all that money being spent when Ashara had nothing. It was Ashara’s inheritance, not theirs.

  “Tell me, Lady Bethynne, did you begin planning how to steal your stepdaughter’s estate while her father was on his deathbed, or did you at least wait until he was in the ground?”

  At my words her smile faltered and she went pale, making the rouge stand out like two livid spots on her cheeks. “Did I” —a titter that did not fool me in the slightest— “what, Your Majesty?”

  “You heard me.” I stood up then, wishing to intimidate her with my height as well as my position as Emperor. “It has come to my attention that you did willfully take away the Lady Ashara’s inheritance when she was a child and could do nothing to fight back, and that in addition to such an act of wickedness, you also made her a servant in her own home. Be advised that I have my own solicitors looking into the matter. Your days of living well at Ashara’s expense are over.”

  “Your — Your Majesty — I — ” One hand went to her throat, and she looked as if she were about to faint.

  Not that I would have cared if she did, save that if she swooned, I would have to call the guards to have her carried away.

  “I am advising you now to set your affairs in order, Lady Bethynne, for if — when — the Lady Ashara is located, she will have her rightful holdings restored to her.” Not that it really mattered if Ashara got her house and estate back, for as Empress she would have no need of those things. However, it seemed a fitting punishment for the woman who had wrongly possessed them for all these years. “Now go, for the sight of you disgusts me.”

  She hesitated, opened her mouth as if to plea for clemency, and then seemed to see my expression more clearly. No words, but a quick curtsey, far less elaborate than the one she had given me upon her entrance, and then she fled, leaving behind her the cloying scent of the perfume she wore.

  The smell made me want to gag, and I unlatched the window and opened it, letting in a cool, damp breeze. The mists of autumn were truly upon us now, and the air outside was grey and moist. I stared down at the city far below me, seeing the movement of people in its streets, although from this height I could not make out any distinguishing features.

  “Ah, Ashara,” I murmured. “You are there somewhere. And I will find you.”

  Chapter 17

  Ashara

  Mistress Cholmond lifted the sheet of paper closer to her nose, squinting at the words on it. She must be very near-sighted, which I thought was all the better. There was no way she would ever be able to connect the face on all those notice boards with the new serving girl she had just hired.

  “An excellent reference,” she said, although I wondered if she were even able to read the forged letter I had given her. “The Lady Gabrinne Nelandre! Well, then, you are very used to working in a fine household. I hope you do not think mine will be too much of a come-down.”

  “Oh, not
at all, Mistress Cholmond. I am very grateful for the opportunity to serve here.”

  She nodded, as if satisfied, and set the letter aside. I had purchased the paper and ink the day after I arrived at Mistress Isling’s boardinghouse, at the same time I went out to procure another change of clothing and certain other necessities. Thank goodness my penmanship had not deserted me, and the letter seemed to pass muster…not that the woman inspecting it appeared all that discriminating.

  “You can start immediately?” Mistress Cholmond inquired.

  “Yes, ma’am. I only need to go back to Mistress Isling’s to gather my things.”

  “Excellent. Do that, and return here this afternoon. I am having a supper party this evening, and it will be a good opportunity for you to see how things are done here.”

  At that I bobbed a quick curtsey, retrieved my false letter of reference, and hurried back to the boardinghouse. Luckily, it was only a brisk ten-minute walk away, and so I was able to conduct my business without too much difficulty.

  “You were not with us long, Mari,” Mistress Isling said to me as I packed my few belongings in my satchel and gave her the coins I owed her for the three days I had stayed there.

  “No, ma’am. I have found a very good situation with Mistress Cholmond.” And it was a good situation, I told myself; the lady in question was a widow, but one of some means. I guessed her late husband had been in trade, although she had not mentioned such a thing. But there was no title I could see, and so it seemed logical that he must have been a wealthy merchant of some sort. She had no children, but seemed to be fairly active socially, which meant I should be kept busy.

  Not that I minded. I wanted to be busy. If my day was filled with mindless tasks, then perhaps I could keep my thoughts away from Torric, from the deep ache at the center of my being that felt as if some part of my soul had been plucked out.

  “Best of luck to you, Mari,” Mistress Isling told me. “I would that all my girls could find a situation as quickly as you have.”

  I gave her a smile and then turned to go. Lindry had gone out earlier, and that made me a little sad, for I wished I could have said goodbye to her before I left. But I told myself that perhaps I could return in a few days to make a proper farewell. In the meantime, Mistress Cholmond was waiting for me.

  * * *

  It was certainly very different working for Mistress Cholmond rather than my stepmother. For one thing, I had a real room with a proper bed to sleep in, and I did not even have to share it with another girl. She kept a small staff — myself, two footmen, the cook, and her lady’s maid — and the house was large enough that we all had our own quarters. It was quite the luxury to sleep on a real bed each night, and to have my own wash basin and wardrobe. And yes, she kept me busy with cleaning and assisting the cook, but the work was not much different from what I had done before, save that I did not have two fractious stepsisters to run me ragged in addition to all my other duties.

  I could not say I was exactly content, but the simple order of the household did a little to soothe my soul. Of course I listened as intently as I could whenever the conversation among Mistress Cholmond’s guests turned to the goings-on at the court. As far as I could tell, Torric still had my aunt locked up in the dungeon, and he seemed to have turned in on himself, canceling many of the events that should have been held in the palace on those days following my disappearance — feasts and balls and musicales. What that meant precisely, no one could say, although there was speculation a-plenty…especially in the safety of a house located far from the palace, where no one of any importance could overhear their gossip.

  “I’ve heard he’s locked himself in his suite and won’t come out at all,” declared a stout lady of an age with Mistress Cholmond, although far sturdier. “Not any way to be ruling an empire, if you ask me.”

  I set down a tureen of squash soup and retreated to a corner in case anyone should have further need of me. In truth, that was not strictly why I paused there; I wished to be able to eavesdrop further, for I had been yearning for news of Torric.

  If Mistress Cholmond noticed my loitering, she said nothing of it. She waited while the senior footman gave everyone a precise measure of soup, then remarked, “Oh, that is being somewhat dramatic, don’t you think? For I heard he met with the ambassador from South Eredor, and had his usual open audience for the fortnight, and I do not think he would have done either of those things if he had truly retreated from the world.”

  “Well, perhaps,” her guest said. “Even so, it is clear he is not himself, at least according to those I have spoken with who have gone to court.”

  “He has been disappointed in love, and it must be a trying thing for His Majesty, to have his lady chosen, and then to discover it was all through some horrible spell,” said a thin older lady with beautiful snow-white hair.

  “Oh, the spell in question does not seem that horrible to me,” the stout woman commented. “Indeed, I somewhat wish magic were not outlawed, for then perhaps I could find a mage to cast a spell that would make me appear young and beautiful.”

  Mistress Cholmond, instead of being shocked, only chuckled and shook her head, while the white-haired woman looked wistful and said, “You may have a point there. But it is quite against the law to use such things, and the young woman and her mage — I heard it was some sort of relation — did break the law.”

  “There are far worse laws broken every day, and no one is locked up for them,” declared the stout woman. “Have you seen the thievery at the marketplace lately? The cheesemonger had his finger on the scale plain as day, and yet denied any wrongdoing when I confronted him about it!”

  And so the dialogue wended away from Torric and the goings-on at the palace, and moved on to more commonplace topics. Yet somehow their conversation warmed me a little, for I did not sense any true outrage over my aunt’s use of magic, but rather a simple tut-tutting over what had transpired. If that was how these comfortable, respectable women viewed the matter, then perhaps there was hope for my aunt.

  I would not allow myself to consider the possibility that there might be hope for me.

  * * *

  Two days after that, there was a knock at the front door. Now, it was not my place to open the house to visitors or tradesmen — that task fell to the senior footman, a very elegant young man in his mid-twenties named Jennis. But I happened to be in the foyer, rubbing down the paneling with beeswax, and so I experienced a moment of sheer terror when Jennis responded to the knock, only to reveal a hard-faced man wearing the livery of the Imperial house standing on the doorstep.

  Somehow I managed to stay in place, to keep wiping away at the age-darkened wood as if having one of the Emperor’s guards show up at the house was something that happened every day.

  “Yes, m’lord?” Jennis asked uncertainly. Usually he seemed quite stiff and proper, although I thought he was only a few years older than myself, but in this case he seemed quite as flummoxed as I.

  “We have heard that your mistress hired a new maid recently. Is this true?”

  Looking even more baffled, the footman shot a look over his shoulder at me. “Yes, m’lord.”

  The guard pushed past Jennis without so much as a by-your-leave and paused a few feet away from me. “Is this true? Are you newly come to this household?”

  Oh, how I wished I could deny the fact. But of course I could do no such thing, not with the footman watching our exchange with equal parts bemusement and curiosity. “Yes, m’lord,” I said, and somehow forced myself not to reach up and touch my dyed hair, even though I could not help but wonder if its very falseness might not somehow give me away.

  “Your name, girl?”

  “M-Mari Gelsandre.”

  “Is it true that you hired on to his household within the last week?”

  Not looking at him, I nodded. “Yes, m’lord.”

  “And before that?”

  Although I knew precisely what he was asking, I had no choice but to pretend I did
not understand. “Before that, m’lord?”

  A frown creased his heavy brow. “Where were you employed before you came here?” He spoke slowly, carefully enunciating each word, as if he were talking to an idiot or a very small child.

  For a second or two I hesitated, turning the dust cloth I held over and over in my hands. I could not think of the best way to reply. Jennis and everyone else in the household thought I had come from the employ of Lady Gabrinne, and if I said anything otherwise, I would be exposed as having come here under false pretenses. On the other hand, if I gave this hard-faced guardsman her name, would he report my words to the palace, thus exposing me as a fraud? It seemed I was doomed no matter what I said.

  Then, quietly, “In the household of Lady Gabrinne Nelandre.”

  He nodded. “Very good.” A glance back at Jennis, and the guard said, “That is all I needed. A good day to you.” He gave the briefest of nods, then left, the sound of his booted feet very loud on the steps as he went back outside.

  Still with a perplexed frown tugging at his brow, Jennis shut the door and shot a quizzical look in my direction. “What was that all about, Mari?”

  “I have no idea,” I lied.

  Unfortunately, I thought I knew exactly what it was about…and I wondered if the time to run had come again.

  * * *

  But fate conspired to keep me where I was — or rather, Madame Cholmond’s busy social calendar did. She had another supper party scheduled for that evening, and between cleaning and helping the cook and making sure all the silver was spotless, I had no time to even attempt to slip away. All I could hope was that the guardsman had taken my explanation at face value, and since I did not resemble the missing Ashara Millende overmuch, he had dismissed the whole exchange.

 

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