Even so, I could feel my hands shaking as I set out the last of the silver, sense a twisting unease in the pit of my stomach. It was a good thing that I had had so many years of practice in keeping my face from betraying anything of what I felt inwardly, or no doubt Mistress Cholmond would have inquired as to my state of mind.
That good lady, however, while kind-hearted enough, was not overly perceptive, and since she was expecting a party of eight that evening, she had far more important things to occupy her thoughts than her serving girl’s megrims. And indeed, as the hours passed and no one appeared to haul me off to the palace dungeons, I began to think my worry had been for naught. Perhaps the guardsman truly had believed my story, and had not followed up on it at all.
Her guests appeared at six o’clock, for my mistress was elderly enough that she did not care much to follow fashion, which in the city dictated that supper must never occur before seven-thirty. As the group invited to dine this evening were all more or less of an age with Mistress Cholmond, prosperous older men and their wives, and a widower so that the men and women would come out even, I doubted they were overly concerned with fashion, either.
They were all seated, sharing commonplaces about the weather or the rising prices of linen, what with the state of affairs in Seldd following the plague, when a smart rap sounded on the door. Hearing it, I felt my heart sink, and wondered if I would have enough time to bolt from the room before Jennis went to see who was there.
“Positively ill-mannered for anyone to be calling at this hour,” Mistress Cholmond said in some irritation. “Jennis, go tell whoever it is that I have company, and that they may return tomorrow at a more civilized time.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he said, and went out of the dining chamber and down the hall to the door.
“Mari,” she said, and I jumped.
“Ma’am?” I quavered.
“Stop your woolgathering, and bring in the soup. You will have to serve, as Jennis is otherwise occupied.”
I nodded and hurried into the kitchen. No hope of escape there, for the cook immediately handed me a tureen of a shellfish soup, and so perforce I must return to the dining chamber to serve it. Hands shaking, I made my way back to where all Mistress Cholmond’s guests were waiting — only to see them all rise to their feet and make a series of panicked bows and curtseys. My gaze made its way across the room and over their bent backs, and met Torric’s piercing dark eyes.
The tureen fell from my nerveless fingers and shattered on the floor, sending broth and chunks of crab and bits of onion everywhere, including over the toes of my slippers.
“Ashara,” he said calmly enough, although the intensity of his gaze told me there was a great deal going on behind the mask of impassivity he now wore. “You’ve changed your hair.”
“I — ” The word seemed to get caught in my throat, and I took a breath. “How did you find me?”
He cast a quick glance at the supper guests, who had now more or less straightened up and were looking back and forth between the Emperor and the serving girl as if they could not quite believe the evidence of their own eyes. His attention seemed to settle on Mistress Cholmond, and he said, “Good lady, do you have a chamber where the Lady Ashara and I might converse in private?”
She nodded, her myopic eyes wide as she strained to get a better look at her Emperor. “Th-there is my library down the hallway, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent.” His attention shifted back to me. “Ashara.”
As there was no way to refuse him, I moved silently past the pop-eyed assemblage, acutely aware of the bits of seafood broth still clinging to the toes of my shoes. I could only hope that I would not track it all over the house.
I was also all too aware of Torric’s presence, of how he seemed to loom so tall as he followed me in silence to the library. The chamber must have been a relic of Mistress Cholmond’s late husband, for her eyesight was far too poor to allow her to read any of the volumes contained therein. Perhaps it was mostly for show, a rich woman’s casual display of wealth.
Torric shut the door behind us. Now that we were alone, the mask dropped away, and he came to me, taking my hands in his and covering them in kisses. At length he pulled back a few inches and said, “Oh, Ashara, I feared I would never see you again.”
I stared up at him, certain I must be dreaming. All my fears, all my worries that I would be found and imprisoned for my duplicity — and now Torric was saying he had thought he would never see me again? “I - I don’t understand. My aunt is imprisoned, and I thought — ”
“She will be released,” he replied at once. “At least, as soon as I can think of a way to do so without making it seem as if magic is now allowed in Sirlende. I have spoken with her, my love, and I know why you felt as if you had no choice but to do as you did.”
“You are…not angry?” I asked. “For I did deceive you — ”
“Only in outward things, petty things. You were no one but you, Ashara, and that is who I fell in love with, not the gowns you wore or the jewels around your neck.”
My legs began to quiver. “I believe I need to sit down,” I said faintly, then made my way over to the divan, which was situated near the hearth, and sank down on it. Torric followed me there, and took my hands in his. Oh, how warm and strong his fingers were, how welcome their pressure against my own cold and fragile hands! “So…you have forgiven me?”
He gave a small laugh. “What is there to forgive?” A pause, and then I noticed a familiar glint in his dark eyes as he reached out and touched a strand of my unnaturally dark hair. “Well, except what you’ve done to your hair. I hope to the gods that it is not permanent!”
A flood of relief washed over me, and I found myself chuckling as well. “No, it is not. My stepmother had to treat her hair every three weeks or so, as it began to fade, and so it will be with me. Perhaps it will go faster if I wash it more — she only did so once a week, to preserve the color for as long as possible.”
“I will make sure you can wash it every day.” His hands tightened around mine. “For you are coming back with me. Your new mistress will have to find someone else to finish serving at her supper party.”
“I do not think she will mind overmuch, for you will have given her enough conversation to last for some days, I think.” And I laughed again, for sheer joy, for the knowledge that Torric loved me despite everything, for realizing that he meant to set my aunt free, and that I would now go away with him to the palace, and my nightmare had finally become a dream come true.
* * *
After that he hastened us away in a dark carriage that carried no coat-of-arms, although the coach was surrounded by a contingent of ten guards. “I thought it best to be discreet,” he told me, holding me close as we clattered over the stony streets on our way back to the palace.
“Well, as discreet as a great black carriage surrounded by a contingent of men-at-arms can be, I suppose,” I replied, and he laughed and pulled me close, touching his lips to mine, letting me taste the sweetness of his mouth again. Perhaps we did get jolted by our rapid pace, but I noticed none of that, and only the magic of him, that lovely intoxication which seemed to sweep over me whenever I was in his arms.
He had brought a long, hooded cloak with him in the carriage, and he placed it around my shoulders and drew up the hood before we alighted. “For there are always prying eyes around the palace,” he explained.
This I could well imagine, and I nodded and clutched the cloak tightly to me as he stepped out, then handed me down. From there we entered the building through a small door off to one side, and not through the great entry hall at the front of the building. Not too far off was an equally modest staircase, which I guessed was reserved for the servants’ use. I did not mind such a humble entry into the palace, no, not at all, for at the moment my mind was still reeling with the abrupt alteration in my situation.
“Here we are,” Torric said, and brought me into an elegant suite hung with shades of rose and cla
ret, and with a welcome fire crackling in the hearth of soft blush-colored marble. “I hope you will be comfortable here. Only for a short time, of course, for I meant it when I said I would marry you as soon as I possibly could.”
I glanced at the door, but the two men-at-arms who had followed us up the stairs had shut it behind us, presumably so they could take up a post outside. As Torric and I were more or less alone, I went to him and kissed him again on the mouth, pressing my body to him, hoping that he would sense from my touch how much I wanted such a thing as well.
It seemed I had communicated my feelings clearly enough, for after a moment he pulled away and said, “Gods, Ashara, if you do that much more, I don’t think I shall be able to wait another hour!”
Yes, perhaps being quite so exuberant wasn’t such a good idea, especially now that I realized I could see the suite’s bedroom through an open door off to my right. It would be so easy to take Torric by the hand, lead him in there…
“Ah,” I said raggedly. “I do see your point. So what is your plan?”
He smiled, as if he guessed all too well what I had been thinking. “My sister knew I was going to fetch you tonight, but your presence here is otherwise a secret. She has sent over a few gowns for you, as you are close enough in size that you can make do until we can have a wardrobe made. And that hair…”
“I thought it was very clever of me,” I said, even as I reached up to touch the unnaturally black braid that hung over my shoulder.
“That is one word for it, I suppose.” His mouth twisted a little, as if he were trying to hold back a grin. “I will also make sure that a bath is sent up forthwith. Lyarris’ lady’s maid will have to be let in on the secret, I suppose. But I do not want to present you as my affianced bride until you are…you.”
“So concerned with appearances, are you?” I asked, my tone playful, but his expression turned unexpectedly grim.
“Yes, for there is already enough controversy concerning you and illusion. You need to look like the Ashara Millende everyone saw this past week, or it could cause even more trouble.”
This observation seemed wise, after I considered it for a moment, and I nodded. “That probably would be for the best. And after all, just a few hours ago I thought I should never see you again. I will muster the patience to wait for you a week or so more, if I must.”
“It will be a very long week,” he said. “But I will bear it, for at least I will be able to come and see you while the preparations are made, and because I know that such a great reward awaits me at the end.”
“And if you can bear it, I will, too.” I paused, then stood on my tiptoes so I could kiss him on the cheek. “I do believe it will be just a little easier now that I am here in the palace, and know I will never have to polish Madame Cholmond’s paneling again!”
He did not deign to answer, but merely bent and placed his mouth on mine, telling me with the kiss that there were a great many things far better in the world than having to polish paneling. And in that, he was certainly correct.
Chapter 18
Torric
After I had torn myself away from Ashara — doing so only because her bath had arrived, and although some part of me wished very much to stay, so that I might see even more of her, I told my aching loins that such a thing was certainly not seemly. What kind of Emperor was I, if I could not maintain my self-control for a few more days?
So I left her in the company of my sister’s maid, and went instead to Lyarris’ apartments. By then it was quite late, but I knew she would not yet be abed. Even when we had balls and gatherings that lasted into the small hours of the morning, she would often spend some time afterward writing. I had teased her about it on occasion, but she only told me that writing helped to settle her mind, to take her away from the day so she might sleep.
And that was how I found her, seated at her desk, her pen making slight scratching sounds that could barely be heard above the crackling of the fire. She had readied herself somewhat for bed, with her hair in a long braid and a heavy dressing gown replacing the ornate court dress she had worn earlier.
As soon as I entered, however, she set down her pen and gave me an expectant look. “She is all settled?”
“More or less. Your maid is attending her now, and helping to scrub some truly awful black dye out of her hair.”
“Oh, dear. A disguise, I presume?”
“Yes, and one that obviously served her well for some time. If it were not for my one man-at-arms being suspicious of her story, and going to the Lady Gabrinne to inquire as to its veracity…” I let the words trail off. If not for tripping herself up with that one lie, Ashara might very well have been lost to me forever.
“Well, I can see why Ashara felt herself driven to such lengths. But it will be mended soon enough, and in the meantime I have already ordered up quite a few new gowns. My dressmaker was quite curious as to why I should suddenly be so enamored of russet and gold and warm green, as they are not colors that particularly suit me.”
I could not help but smile at that, for the mischievous look in my sister’s eyes told me she was quite enjoying this little subterfuge of ours. Luckily, the suite where Ashara was currently ensconced was just down the corridor from Lyarris’ rooms, but far from the grand apartments several floors above that our mother called home. As the Dowager Empress preferred that we call on her rather than the opposite, the chances of her encountering Ashara were fairly slim.
No, at this point it was more of a waiting game…or perhaps a planning game would be a more accurate way to put it. For I had promised my betrothed that her aunt would be given her freedom, although at the moment I had no clear idea of how I might accomplish such a thing — not when it went against hundreds of years of law.
“You’re frowning,” my sister told me.
“Am I?” With a shrug I sat down on the divan near the fire and stared into it, as if the changing flames could somehow provide me with the solution I required.
“Rather fearfully for a man who just retrieved the woman he loves and has her safely under his roof.”
Unlike me, Lyarris did not keep spirits in her rooms, so there was no decanter of port at hand. Pity. I could have used some at the moment. Of course she could have rung for the servants to bring a bottle, but I did not want to advertise my presence here that clearly.
Instead, I settled back against the divan’s cushions and knotted my fingers atop one knee. “It is only that I promised Ashara I would free her aunt, and I can think of no good way to do so without upsetting my advisors by overturning a law that has been in place for more than five centuries, as well as giving the message that now it is perfectly all right to perform magic in Sirlende.”
“I can see why that would be a thorny problem.” She got up from behind her desk and came to take a seat in one of the two heavily upholstered chairs that faced the divan. “It is rather unfortunate that you, as Emperor, do not have quite as much power as most people think you do.”
I scowled at her. “Thank you for that helpful insight.”
Rather than taking offense, she merely chuckled a little. “Haven’t you often complained of those same constraints to me? This is someplace where you must tread lightly, for while you cannot break a promise to Ashara, neither can you break the covenant you have with the people of Sirlende to keep them safe. True, the magic Ashara’s aunt possesses seems to me to be a fairly harmless sort, but the same thing cannot be said of all mages, wherever they may be hiding these days.”
“There were rumors of a particularly nasty one up in North Eredor some months back, but my spies could tell me nothing else. So you see why I must be cautious.”
Lyarris appeared more intrigued by this intelligence than dismayed. “Truly? I shall have to ask Lord Sorthannic about that, for with his sister married to the Mark of North Eredor, surely she must have heard something of it, and has possibly discussed it with her brother.”
“Well, if you can get any information from him, that would b
e useful, because the whole thing appears to have been hushed up. At any rate, it does show that we cannot afford to let down our guard too much, as I fear that for every well-meaning user of magic out there such as Therissa Larrin, there could be another just as inclined toward evil.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Her mouth pursed slightly, as if she were already thinking about that future conversation with the Duke of Marric’s Rest.
Because I was preoccupied with other matters, I did not even bother to tease her about Lord Sorthannic as I otherwise might. “That may provide insight…or it may not. What I do know is that I require a solution now.”
Lyarris’ expression sobered at once. “Of course.” She tilted her head to one side, as if considering. Then she said, “While it is true that any citizen of Sirlende found to be practicing magic is under sentence of death, can we make a claim that Therissa Larrin is not actually a citizen of this empire, as she has made her home elsewhere these past twenty years?”
I stared at my sister, struck by this insight. Sometimes I could only marvel at the quickness of her mind…and I hoped that Sorthannic Sedassa would appreciate it as much as I did. “That is an angle of attack I had not considered. Truly, she herself told me that she abandoned her homeland because she saw no future for herself here.”
Lyarris continued, the words coming fast and almost breathless, as if she wanted to make haste before she forgot a pertinent detail, “Yes, she has had no residence here, has paid no taxes…I think you may make a very credible case for Therissa Larrin ceasing to be a citizen of yours some years ago. And if she is not a citizen, then it is not your place to hold the laws of this land over her head.”
Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4) Page 24
