by M. J. Scott
She frowned. "She is though. And it seems wrong that she has to deny it." The frown deepened. "I thought I was done with countries where men tell women what to do with their magic."
He didn't disagree. The way the Andalyssians thought about magic had never sat easily with him. What would have happened to him if he'd been born in such a country? His power discouraged? Or suppressed? Or feared? "To be fair, they tell everyone what to do with their magic. It's not just the women. And change comes slowly."
"Sometimes it comes fast," she said. "Like Sophie."
"Well, we're here to support the king, not overthrow him, so let's leave the Andalyssians to do things their way. Lady Katiya seems content and well able to protect her sister's interests should they need protecting. Irina seemed lively enough from what I could see."
"She is." Chloe's frown disappeared. "I like her."
He tried not to show his relief that she had accepted his change of topic. The politics of man versus woman versus magic and religion in the empire's various countries was nothing he wanted to debate with her in the corridors of Deephilm.
"She thinks you're pretty," Chloe added.
Startled, he stopped walking. "She does?"
"Yes," Chloe said. She studied him a moment. "It's probably the blond hair and green eyes. You almost blend in. Maybe if you avoided the sun for a few years, you could pass as a native."
His skin was more gold than pale like hers or the Andalyssians. And Andalyssians didn't like Truth Seekers. "I like the sun," he said firmly. "And being warm." And avoiding marriage-hungry sisters of foreign queens.
"Don't worry, I don't think she's marriage minded." She smiled suddenly, and from the familiar looseness of the expression, he knew she was perhaps more intoxicated than she had seemed back in the king's parlor. Kafiet was sneaky that way. Burned in the blood for a long time before it finally caught fire.
He couldn't risk letting his own blood burn.
"Well, that's good," he said.
"Yes," Chloe agreed. "She suggested that I should marry you."
"What?" He almost stumbled again, shocked by both the idea and the fact that she had mentioned it. Hardly a suggestion that could have pleased her.
She laughed as he caught himself. He stared at her, and she went still. In the dim light, her pupils were wide, but there was amusement lurking in the depths. Amusement and—his breath caught again. He'd seen her smiling at Charl like that many times. Dark-eyed and happy and not entirely hiding the fact that she intended to drag her husband off to bed at the closest opportunity.
Why was she looking at him that way?
She wasn't was the short answer, merely intoxicated. He tore his gaze away, tried to ignore the heat coiling through him, and started walking.
"Don't worry," Chloe said. "I told her we wouldn't suit."
Oh, they would suit. He knew that much. Had always known it. But he couldn't say it. He’d never been able to say it. And he wasn't going to take advantage of this small moment when she was—kafiet influenced or not—warming to him ever so slightly to make a fool of himself now.
"Good," he said. "They take marriage seriously around here. Let's not start any trouble. What else did you talk about? What did the seer say?"
The amusement faded from Chloe's face. "Not much. She called me ‘daughter of ravens’ and then wandered off again. I'm not sure I like her much. She reminds me of Domina Skey."
Daughter of ravens? Well, that was apt. But a strange thing to call somebody upon first meeting. "In what way?"
"She likes power," Chloe said.
"Many people do," he countered. "I would think you'd be pleased that a woman can hold a high rank here."
She shrugged. "It depends how they got it. It's odd that we haven't met any of their...what do they call the priests?"
"Svasyas," he said. "King Mikvel said they undertake some sort of ritual prior to commencing the wedding rituals. He mentioned ice water and prayer. It didn't sound appealing. I'm sure we won't be able to move without tripping over one in a day or so."
"Is Deephilm like you remembered?" Chloe asked as they turned another corridor.
"Mostly. More cordial, which is nice. Though still somewhat wary. At least I'm not actively prosecuting one of them for treason this time. That helps." Though still hunting for signs of it.
That made her smile slowly. "I would imagine so. Though I got the impression that Katiya thinks the wedding is...solemn. I don't know if that's usual or if I imagined it."
"Solemn?"
"She made a comment that the gatherings should be enjoyable. But the matter of House Elannon must be making things more difficult, perhaps."
"Possibly." Chloe was new at this, but he had never doubted her instincts. He hadn't detected any hint of falsehood in the king's welcome or during their discussion after dinner, but he was yet to meet any of the Ashmeisters, let alone representatives of House Elannon. The first of those was to be held tomorrow. He wasn't entirely looking forward to it, though it would, at least, give him some idea what they were facing in navigating the Andalyssian court.
It was part of the reason he'd wanted to walk Chloe back to her room. A small part, perhaps but it was still there lurking in the back of his thoughts. He would keep her safe in this palace carved into a mountain, no matter what else happened.
"You've gone quiet," she said.
"It's late," he said. "People are sleeping." They'd reached the end of the corridor where their rooms were located. Chloe's was at the far end, whereas his was second from the turn of the hallway. A wise man would leave her to walk the remaining few hundred feet on her own. There was no one lurking in the corridor.
But he didn't want to bring this to an end any sooner than he had to. In the morning, she would wake and no longer feel any kafiet-fueled kindness toward him. And he would have to miss her all over again. Forget this glimpse of his friend and bury his feelings deep.
Tonight though, he had maybe a minute more. Chloe stretched her arm out, running her hand over the tapestries that lined the walls between each door. She was smiling again, relaxed and open.
"Pretty," she said.
"Yes," he agreed, though he wasn't talking about the tapestries. "Very. Practical, too. Makes it warmer."
"Maybe I should take up needlework," she said. "Something to do on long journeys."
"You used to say needlework was dull," he said.
She tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder. "I used to say many things. Many of them foolish." Her smile was lopsided, and sadness flashed over her face.
He didn’t like seeing her sad. "It wasn't foolish to love Charl," he said. "Or, if it was, then we are both fools. He didn't start out the man he ended up being."
The smile died. "Someone changed him."
"Yes."
"Do you know who?" She was moving again, heading for her room. He hurried to keep pace.
"No." It was one of the few failures of his career. They'd arrested two other men, both of whom had killed themselves before they could be fully interrogated. Which shouldn't have been possible. But short of Aristides freeing the Truth Seekers to interrogate everyone at court, and in the parliament and beyond, that had left few trails to follow. "But I will. Eventually." He hadn't given up on the case. He never would.
Her expression turned savage. "Good. Because I would like to have words with whoever it was."
"So would I."
She flashed a smile that was closer to bared teeth than amusement. "Perhaps we have something in common still after all, Lucien."
They'd reached her room, and she fitted the key into the lock while he stayed silent, not sure how to respond.
Lucien. She'd said his name. Not Lord, or Truth Seeker, or Major. Just Lucien. As she used to.
Kindly meant, perhaps, but another prick to his heart that he didn't let himself respond to for fear of ruining things.
"Sleep well, Lieutenant," he said at last.
She blinked at him, and there was somet
hing, for a moment, in her expression that made him think she appreciated him not pushing her.
"Good night," she said and slipped into her room, closing the door.
He heard the lock turn again.
There. She was safe.
He'd done his duty.
He could go to his own room and pray for sleep himself. He'd earned that much.
But instead he stood there, in the dark hallway, wishing he could have said something more, hand flexing against the urge to knock. To ask her to let him in. To hold on to the moment a little longer. And it was many long minutes before he was finally able to turn away and leave.
Chapter 16
"All right," Honore said as the appointed hour for breakfast was coming to an end. “We have a change of plans for this morning. Lady Katiya has seen fit to invite the women in our party to attend a ceremony with her."
Chloe's ears pricked up. She had been late to breakfast, and despite guzzling tea and eating her fill of fried bread and eggs and the soured cream with preserved fruit that the Andalyssians had served, her head still reminded her that she'd had too little sleep and too much of that goddess damned kafiet. Not hungover precisely, but not looking forward to spending the morning sitting in the back of some meeting room taking notes while Honore and the other senior officers talked trade with the Andalyssians.
A social event might not be much easier, but Katiya had been friendly and her sister entertaining. There would be, at least, less chance of disgracing herself by dozing off. She poured herself another mug of tea as Honore continued.
"I expect this won't be the first such unexpected invitation. Nor do I think it prudent for us to refuse at this point. Not until we have a better view of how things lie and what parts of these things we can avoid without giving offense." She tilted her head, spreading her hands before flattening them on the table with a huff of a breath.
Understandable that she would view the invitation as somewhat frustrating. She had more pressing tasks. It was a mark of respect that Aristides had chosen her to deal with such a complicated mission. But perhaps he hadn't factored in the more...traditional nature of the court and the fact that some parts of this wedding would be segregated by sex. Hopefully not too many, or Colonel Brodier was going to have to choose between offending the king's fiancée or failing her empire.
She didn't know when Lucien was meeting with House Elannon, but he and several of the others had left breakfast early. She'd been relieved not to be assigned to his team. Their late-night walk had been too comfortable for a moment or two. Better to stay away from him.
"I'm given to understand that our uniforms will be acceptable," Honore continued, "so no need to change. The ceremony begins shortly. Someone will come to fetch us." She turned her attention to Captain Theisse. "You will take charge of the treaty meeting until I can join you."
Captain Theisse nodded. "Of course. You will miss some of the boring preliminaries, but we'll take notes."
Colonel Brodier looked as though she'd rather not miss any of the preliminaries, boring or otherwise.
"Do we know what the ceremony involves?" Chloe asked.
Honore shook her head. "The message called it the tscherov. I haven't had time to ask more than that. I only received the invitation as I was leaving to come to breakfast."
“Tscherov,” the Andalyssian in the Chloe's brain suggested, meant something like twine or braid or string. Which left her none the wiser.
"It wasn't mentioned in any of the information provided by the Elenian ambassador or the Andalyssians," Honore continued. "Which means it's probably something they weren't expecting us to be involved with. But the invitation was for us to watch, so hopefully we can't go too wrong with that." She looked across at Chloe. "You spoke with Lady Katiya last night, didn't you? Did she mention this?"
"No," Chloe said. "She was very kind though. And seemed interested in Illvya." Her memory of the previous evening was slightly blurred thanks to the kafiet, but she was certain she hadn't forgotten an invitation.
"Well, you must have made a good impression," Honore said. "Well done, Lieutenant. Of course, the other possibility is that they're throwing us into something complicated to see if we will make idiots of ourselves, but let's hope that's not it."
That thought hadn't occurred to Chloe. Time to begin thinking like a diplomat. Katiya seemed unlikely to play political games—though appearances could be deceptive—but Sejerin Silya or one of the Ashmeisters might try. "If they wanted us to do that, surely it would be one of the important ceremonies they'd try to sabotage?”
"Depends whether they wanted to get rid of us or just embarrass us," Honore said. "But let us take the optimistic view for now and assume Lady Katiya is merely being welcoming."
That gelled better with the impression she'd formed of Katiya and Irina. Irina was obviously headstrong, but Katiya also clearly loved her sister and had been, as far as Chloe could tell, quite genuine in her gentle curiosity about Lumia. Chloe had spent enough time with noblewomen to have a fair sense of when one of them was faking friendship or kindness. "Perhaps one of the Wardmeister's staff could tell us more about the ceremony?"
"There's no time for that. We will just have to see what happens." Honore pushed her chair back. "So, keep your wits about you."
The tscherov was held halfway across the palace. There had been little chatter as the ten of them followed the servant through the hallways. Chloe had focused on spotting landmarks along the way that might help her find her way back again should the need arise.
Some of the hallways had windows that gave glimpses outside. The palace was built into the mountain in tiers, and the outer edge of each was given over to gardens and terraces. A clever way to give the inhabitants access to outdoor spaces. There seemed to be more small trees and shrubs than flowers, some of them turning gold and red, some bare-branched already. In such a cold climate, flowers might be difficult any time other than high summer.
Maybe Irina would know more about that. Chloe was looking forward to seeing her again. She and her sister had, so far, been the bright spots in the trip. They were strangers, yes, but it had been pleasant to speak to women who didn't know her history. Or at least showed no sign of it. As the servant showed them into a small but airy sunny reception room, she hoped she would get to speak with them again, diplomacy or not.
Despite the sunshine, the room was cool. The far wall had two glass doors leading out to a garden, and one of them was partially open.
The cold didn't seem to bother the Andalyssians. Katiya sat on a dainty gilded chair in the center of the room with about thirty other women milling around her. A number of them wore the blue and green that Irina had worn last night—including Irina herself. Her copper head was easy to spot amongst all the blonde. She stood with an older blonde woman who looked enough like both Katiya and Irina that Chloe assumed she must be their mother.
Some of the other women wore the silver and white of the royal family and the rest a mix of other house colors. Three or four of them were younger girls—maybe fifteen or sixteen—and one of the women in yellow and pale green held a baby wrapped in a white cloth embroidered with flowers in the same colors.
No red though. No sign of any seers.
But given the small size of the gathering, maybe the women were those Katiya actually liked rather than people she was obliged to include. Which begged the question why she'd suddenly decided to involve the Illvyans. In their uniforms, they looked like a flock of crows amongst the colorful Andalyssians. The women’s dresses were less elaborate than the court robes, but the long vests they wore over their dresses were still embroidered with intricate patterns.
Tables laden with covered baskets flanked Katiya, but Chloe couldn't tell if they held food or something else. Katiya rose with a smile as they approached.
"Colonel Brodier, welcome." She flashed a brilliant smile at the rest of them. "Ladies. I'm pleased you could join me this morning."
She was going to make a good quee
n. She seemed to like people. And had the knack for making them feel comfortable.
"Thank you for the invitation, Lady Katiya," Colonel Brodier said. "I will confess I am intrigued."
"We're just waiting for the seer," Katiya said. "Then we'll begin. This is a less formal ceremony, a blessing of the bride, as it were." She paused, as though struck by an idea, then turned to call over her shoulder. "‘Rina, come over here."
Irina's bright head lifted, and she bounced over to join them. "You bellowed, sister dearest?"
Katiya reached out and tweaked one of the blue-ribbon ends hanging from Irina's braids. "Queens do not bellow."
"You're not queen yet," Irina said. But then she bobbed a curtsy. "Colonel Brodier, it's nice to see you again."
"Would you mind standing with the ladies here until it's your turn?" Katiya said. "You can explain to them what's going on. I'd better go back before Mother has a fit. If Sejerin Neni doesn't arrive soon, she's going to go on the warpath. The schedule is tight today."
The woman Chloe thought was Katiya's mother did look tense, though she was mostly hiding it. She, like her daughter, appeared too palely pretty to ever go on the warpath, but Chloe knew better than to judge a woman on looks alone, and this one had raised a daughter who was going to be a queen.
"Yes, yes," Irina said. "Shoo on back to all of them." She made a small “go away” gesture at Katiya, who just laughed, kissed her cheek, and made her way back over to the chair.
As she settled her skirts and vest around her, the door opened and a short plump woman with hair the color of a cloud on the edge of sunset curling around her shoulders came bustling through. She wore white and a vest like the others. But hers was embroidered with runes in red, the way the sejerin's robes had been last night. But against the white, they looked cheerful, not ominous.
This, then, was the Sejerin Neni who Katiya had mentioned.
She hurried over to Katiya, bent to kiss both her cheeks, then straightened. "My apologies for being late. There was a—" She broke off. "But no, that explanation is too boring, and I'm sure it will be more fun just to begin."
