Royal Airs

by Sharon Shinn

“There you are,” he said. “When I woke up, I thought—”

  “Darien’s here,” she interrupted before he could say anything too damning. “He came to check on you.”

  “Hardly that,” Darien said, following her in. “But I am glad you didn’t die in the aeromotive disaster. That would have been difficult to explain to Prince Ghyaneth.”

  “He probably would have offered you a reward,” Josetta said.

  Darien was giving Rafe a critical inspection. “You look fairly wretched. Are you well enough to travel?”

  In three seconds, Rafe’s expression had gone from worry to high alert to the calm amiability that Josetta thought of as his professional expression. “I don’t see why not. Where am I going?”

  Very smooth, Josetta thought. The man was so adaptable, so open to surprises, he should have been coru. “To visit the princess,” she said.

  He smiled at her. “You’re a princess.”

  “The heir,” she specified.

  He glanced at Darien. “And there’s a reason you think I need to meet her?”

  Darien shrugged. “I want Josetta’s company. You’re just a collateral benefit.”

  It was easy enough to read Darien’s tone. I don’t care if you meet Odelia or not, but this is the course we’ve chosen, so we’re stuck with you. Rafe’s face showed perfect comprehension, and Josetta concealed a smile.

  Rafe said, “Let me wash up and pack a bag, and I’ll be ready to go.”

  • • •

  It was frustrating beyond description to have no chance to talk privately to Rafe, and it took no great prescience to realize that they might not have another opportunity to spend the night together until this trip was over. Josetta had never been less happy to have Darien interfering in her life, but she had not been fooled by the casual nature of his invitation. He wanted her on this trip, so she would end up going, whether or not she wasted any energy in protesting. It was easier to acquiesce.

  Though she could get her way in small things. “Rafe needs to see Kayle’s physician before we go,” Josetta insisted. “I don’t want him to succumb to infection while we’re on the road.”

  Darien agreed readily enough, so once they had loaded the elaymotives—again, a caravan of three to carry all the personnel—they set off to find the doctor. He operated out of a squat stone building of absolutely no exterior charm, situated on a narrow, noisy street.

  “I’ll wait here,” Darien told them. “I assume this won’t take very long.”

  Josetta accompanied Rafe inside, where the ambience was a little more welcoming, and soft chairs and softer lighting helped combat the clinical smell of strong detergent. A spare, efficient woman whisked them to a small room as soon as they mentioned Kayle’s name—and they suddenly had a few moments alone.

  “I’m so sorry about Darien,” Josetta said instantly. “And this trip. But there’s no help for it.”

  He didn’t waste time with words, he just put his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly. She felt that sense of satisfied well-being flood back through her veins, sharply flavored with rising desire. “That’s what a man does when a woman deigns to spend the night with him,” he murmured against her mouth. “And then you were gone this morning! Are you all right? Are you—”

  “I’m fine. I’m wonderful,” she interrupted, putting her arms around his neck. “I liked that so very much. Let’s do it again.”

  He laughed and kissed her once more. “Oh, if only we could! But since your brother-in-law seems to have designed this trip just to keep us apart—”

  The door clicked open and Josetta tore herself out of Rafe’s arms. The man who entered was small, slight, and gray, and his sharp eyes were so expressive that his personality made an immediate impact. Sweela, Josetta guessed. He had the look.

  “Well, you can’t be too sick, if that’s how you’re carrying on,” he said dryly, “but let me examine you anyway.”

  After a rapid but thorough inspection, he pronounced Rafe free of fever and lucky to be alive. “I’d restrict my activities for a few days if I were you,” he said, giving them both a pointed glance, “but pain is your best guide. If it hurts, don’t do it. And if it hurts a lot, come see me again.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were back in the elaymotive, heading toward Chialto. Josetta watched sympathetically as Rafe squirmed a little on the padded seat; the doctor had rebandaged his ribs, which seemed to have reminded him how much they hurt.

  Darien glanced over. “Better get comfortable,” he advised. “It’s going to be a long day.”

  • • •

  In fact, it was a long three days by the time they finally arrived at Taro’s property in the middle southern provinces of Welce. It hadn’t been physically unpleasant—Josetta didn’t think the trip could have been accomplished more luxuriously if the point had been to prove to Rafe how much extravagance the royal court could command. It was just wearisome.

  For the two days of the journey, Darien had commandeered a pair of royal elaymotives, each consisting of a long, narrow, enclosed compartment pulled by a smaller powered vehicle. The compartments were like very small houses, with distinct and lavishly furnished living spaces such as bedrooms and kitchens. The guards and teams of drivers traveled behind them in less opulent transport vehicles, and by swapping out drivers at regular intervals, they were able to travel with very few stops.

  At night, the men of the royal party slept in one car and the women in the other, but Rafe usually joined the women during the day while they were in transit. His presence proved to be very entertaining.

  “Let’s play penta,” Corene demanded the first time the four of them were assembled in the women’s car. “But you have to remind me of the rules.”

  “Gladly,” Rafe said, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. “What are the stakes?”

  Zoe had Celia against her shoulder, trying to convince her to fall asleep, but Rafe’s question made her look up in assumed indignation. “What, it’s not enough for you to be taken on a fabulously exciting journey through the farmland of Welce—country so beautiful that your counsin Ghyaneth couldn’t stop raving about it? You want to win our money, too?”

  He grinned. “Maybe I won’t win. Corene has a real knack for the game.”

  “I do,” Corene said complacently. “But I don’t have any coins with me. And I don’t know if Darien will give me any if I tell him what I want them for.”

  Rafe’s restless hands were shuffling the cards over and over. Josetta thought he was making a real effort not to look in her direction. “You can gamble on something else you want,” he said. “Doesn’t have to be money.”

  “I know what I’ll bet,” Zoe said. “If I win, all of you have to change the baby’s diapers for the rest of the trip. Give the nursemaid—and me—a break.”

  Rafe laughed at her. “You think I don’t know how to do that, but I do. I had a little brother.”

  “If I win, I want Darien to stop in a real city so we can have a real meal for dinner at least one night,” Josetta said.

  “Since Darien’s not playing, you can’t make him do that,” Zoe pointed out.

  Josetta gave her a sweet smile. “But you can persuade him.”

  “I like that dinner idea,” Rafe said. “Maybe that will be my bet, too. Corene?”

  Corene wore an expression Josetta had always thought of as wicked. “I’ll get to ask everyone a question, on any topic I choose.”

  Zoe and Josetta exchanged looks of alarm. “I’m not sure we should agree to that,” Zoe said. “Corene’s liable to say anything.”

  “She always does,” Josetta agreed. “Even when she’s not gambling.”

  Corene shrugged. “All right, I’ll just ask the questions anyway.”

  “No,” Josetta said quickly as the other girl took a quick breath. “Let’s just play. Maybe you won’t win.�
�

  “Tournament style,” Rafe suggested. “So no one is declared winner until we’re at the end of the trip.”

  “I like that,” Zoe decided. “Let’s play.”

  Penta became their obsession over the next two days, to the point that they almost hated to break for meals. Darien seemed amused by their intense interest in the competition, but on the whole, relieved that it meant they weren’t complaining to him about small inconveniences. Josetta found it remarkable that the luck of the individual players seemed to fall so evenly. By late afternoon of the second day, when they were only about an hour from their destination, the four of them had almost identical scores.

  “I think you’re doing something to the cards,” Josetta accused Rafe when he won the hand that put him slightly in the lead.

  “How could I do that? We’ve all taken turns dealing.”

  “I don’t know, but I think you are.”

  He was shuffling the cards again, but Zoe took them away from him one-handed. With the other hand she was holding the baby on her lap. Celia’s huge unblinking eyes had been following the game with apparent fascination, and Rafe had already predicted she’d be playing penta before she was three—winning, too.

  “Then let’s just make sure he doesn’t deal again for the rest of the day,” Zoe said. “He doesn’t touch any cards but his own.”

  Rafe was grinning. “You malign me.”

  “On the contrary, I think I’ve formed a very accurate impression of your personality,” she retorted. “Corene, you deal.”

  Three hands later, Corene took the last round with a wildcard that everyone but Rafe had forgotten she had, and he hadn’t had the trump to stop her. “I win, I win!” she exulted. “Now you all have to pay up.”

  Celia chortled with delight and waved her little fists in the air, but the rest of them greeted the news with apprehension. “I’m filled with dread,” Zoe said.

  Corene turned to her first. “Do you like Romelle?”

  Zoe’s face turned thoughtful. “I used to,” she said. “She seemed the most open and the least scheming of Vernon’s wives. But there’s something furtive about her these days that makes me not trust her. And I have a hard time liking people I don’t trust.”

  Corene nodded, then looked in Rafe’s direction. “Do you secretly wish you could go to Berringey and be prince? Be king? If you wouldn’t die for it?”

  Rafe narrowed his eyes, thinking that over. “I’d like to know what Berringey is like,” he answered at last. “I’d like to see the place where I was born and meet people who might share my bloodline. I don’t particularly want to leave Welce, but if I could visit there and not be afraid for my life? I’d go. I would.”

  “Would you want to be king?” she persisted. “If you could?”

  “I don’t think I’d be a very good king, to tell you the truth. You need someone with a certain kind of—focus. Resolve. Vision, maybe.”

  “But you’d have all that money! And power!” Corene exclaimed. “You could make people do whatever you wanted or have them put to death.”

  “Yes, and that whole business about putting people to death is exactly the reason I can’t go there,” he answered with a smile. “I think most people can’t be trusted with that kind of power. I wouldn’t want the temptation.”

  “I don’t think Darien suffers from that kind of temptation,” Zoe mused. “Oh, I’m sure he sometimes uses power to make small annoying problems go away—but he’s so virtuous. So incorruptible. So hunti. He schemes, and he definitely keeps his secrets, but his motives are always pure.”

  “Yes, he’s an inspiration to all of us—when we don’t want to hit him,” Josetta said, and the three women laughed.

  “Now you,” Corene said, looking Josetta’s way.

  The other questions hadn’t been so bad, but Josetta steeled herself anyway. “Yes?”

  “Are you in love with Rafe Adova?”

  There was a moment of stunned silence, broken only by the sound of Celia babbling to herself. Then Zoe exclaimed, “Corene! That’s unacceptable!”

  “You agreed I could ask any question.”

  “But I expected you to have enough decorum not to embarrass your sister—or our guest! Ask her something else.”

  “But they act like they’re in love,” Corene insisted. “He touches her hand when he deals the cards to her. And every time she walks past his chair, she puts her hand on his shoulder. Haven’t you noticed?”

  Zoe sent Josetta one quick look, apologetic but brimming with laughter. “Well, yes, I have noticed. It’s just not polite to point such things out.”

  Josetta could feel the blush heating her cheeks, but she willed her embarrassment to slink meekly away. Corene was like Darien; you had to face her down. “We said you could ask any question, but we didn’t say we had to answer,” she said brightly. “So I’m not going to.”

  Corene gazed speculatively at Rafe, and he laughed. “Hey, I already answered mine,” he said.

  She flounced back in her chair. “Well, the truth is obvious anyway,” she said.

  “Then you shouldn’t have wasted your time asking,” Josetta said.

  Corene gathered up the cards. “Let’s play another game,” she suggested.

  The collective “No!” was almost lost in the sudden jolt as the elaymotive lurched to a halt amid a series of squeals and clatters. Zoe was on her feet as soon as the vehicle stopped shuddering. “Looks like we’ve arrived,” she said. “Time for this uncomfortable meeting to begin.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Josetta had always loved the entrance to Taro Frothen’s estate. The main courtyard more closely resembled a garden, offering an exuberant display of flowers and bushes and trees that rioted with a heady mix of scents and colors. This area subtly fed into a wide stone patio shaded by a trellis hung with grapevines, honeysuckle, and wild ivy. It was easy to miss the point where you stepped from the patio into the kierten, which was filled with potted shrubs and climbing plants that wound their way up the walls and halfway across the ceiling.

  It could hardly have been more obvious that this was the homestead of the torz prime.

  Servants instantly appeared to usher them through the kierten and into an equally lovely room filled with afternoon sunlight and groupings of plush, comfortable furniture. Josetta recognized the steward, a solid-looking, eminently practical woman who had been there since Josetta was a child. “I’ll tell the prime you’ve arrived,” she said tranquilly. “I don’t believe he told me you were coming.”

  “He didn’t know,” Darien replied.

  Zoe waited till the steward was out of the room before she said, “He won’t be entirely surprised, though. When I’m at my grandmother’s house, I can sense the presence of other people as soon as they’ve drawn within a mile. I can feel their heartbeats. Taro will have some similar way of sensing our proximity.”

  Darien lifted his eyebrows. “Will he have had enough time to sequester Odelia?”

  “Maybe,” Zoe replied. “But I don’t suppose that matters. Since you’re not going to leave until you’ve seen her.”

  Darien turned toward the door, because they could all catch the sound of purposeful footsteps striding down the hall. “No,” he said, “I’m not.”

  Seconds later, Taro barreled through the door, bringing such force of personality that Josetta, Corene, and Rafe all stepped backward. The torz prime was annoyed and not bothering to hide the fact. His normally sleepy, agreeable face was drawn into a frown, and he was consciously using his bulky body to express a certain latent menace. This was a man who would win any physical competition that required brute strength or endurance, and he was not above reminding his visitors of that fact.

  “Darien,” he said, his voice a low rumble of barely restrained displeasure. “How kind of you to drop by.”

  “You can hardly be surprised
to see me,” Darien answered quietly.

  “And yet I am.” Taro nodded at each of the women in turn. “Zoe. Princesses.” If he saw Rafe, he gave no sign. Josetta thought that maybe, like Kayle, he found Rafe invisible, his foreign flesh impervious to Taro’s particular brand of perceptive magic. “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “Long enough to reassure ourselves that Princess Odelia is well and healthy.”

  Even as he said the words, Romelle hurried into the room. She was so plainly dressed she might have been working in the garden five minutes earlier, or sewing in the linen room. Her hair was pulled loosely back from her face in a girlish style. She looked so young, Josetta thought. Scarcely more than twenty-five, and could have passed for nineteen. Young and defiant and more than a little afraid.

  “You are here!” she exclaimed. “Goodness, we’re not prepared for guests, but—we’re happy to have you, I suppose.”

  Taro turned to her, communicating something with his eyes. “They want to see Odelia,” he said.

  “Oh! Well, of course! She’s playing outside, but I’ll just have one of the maids fetch her—”

  “Odelia,” Taro repeated, a note of finality in his voice. “Zoe will know.”

  Romelle stared back at him for a long moment, while her shoulders drooped and all her defiance seemed to leak away. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but all she could manage was a gesture, lifting both hands and letting them fall.

  Taro turned back to the unwelcome visitors. Some of his own anger seemed to have faded; Josetta thought now he just looked sad. “Follow me. It goes better if we bring you to her.”

  Josetta exchanged a look with Zoe, who wasn’t troubling to hide her apprehension. Darien wore no expression at all as he fell in step behind Taro and Romelle. Corene touched Josetta’s arm and whispered, “I don’t like this. Something’s wrong.”

  “I think something’s been wrong for a while,” Josetta whispered back. She glanced at Rafe, who looked baffled and uncertain. They had explained the situation to him, but she doubted it had the same resonance for him. He had not been brought up at court; he did not understand what it meant for an heir to be compromised.