by Sharon Shinn
Chandran shrugged and suddenly looked very tired. “I think my most monstrous sin was thinking so much about how I wanted to kill her. Even if I had never done it, the thoughts themselves had dirtied my mind to such a degree that I felt unclean. I am still trying to expiate.”
“But you’ve led an exemplary life for fifteen years,” Leah argued. “You were scrupulously honest in all your financial dealings in Malinqua. You worked hard to be an upright citizen. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I am not sure that many small, quiet virtues can ever accumulate to such an extent that they offset one great vice,” he replied. “If I ever get a chance to make my grand gesture, I will take it. Until then”—he shrugged—“I will live as honestly as I can. And at the very least I will contract to bring no more harm into the world.”
Their server brought their food and conversation lapsed as they took their first bites. “I have never thought of my life in terms of committing sins and earning absolution,” Leah said after a few moments. “Mostly I’ve just tried to find my footing. Find my way. It’s like I’m in a great forest, and I know there’s a clearing somewhere, with a stream and a little cottage and a big garden. And if I can discover the way there, I can settle in and be safe and make my happiness.” She took another bite. “But I keep stumbling and falling. I keep tripping over rocks and dead trees. I keep getting lost—choosing the wrong direction. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the cottage in the clearing.”
Chandran busied himself cutting his meat. “Is anyone in the cottage with you?”
“Mally,” Leah said instantly. “She’s been waiting there all this time.”
“Nobody else?”
Leah managed a breathless laugh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. But I like to think we wouldn’t be there all alone.”
They were both silent a moment. Leah toyed with the stem of her water glass. “It was thoughtful of you,” she said at last, “to leave the shop when she arrived this afternoon.”
“I did not want you to worry.”
“I don’t feel afraid for myself—at any rate, not right now—but everything changes when I think about Mally,” Leah said. “I’m sorry that that’s true.”
“I would be surprised if it were not.”
“Someday it might be different.”
“Or it will not. I trust you will tell me, one way or the other.”
She took a deep breath. “My hope is to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me. About the bad things as well as the good.”
“Since your bad things cannot possibly be as bad as mine, I hope you will find honesty easier to come by.”
“I’m out of the habit,” she admitted. “I feel like the whole time I was in Malinqua, I was living a lie—yes, and even the last few years I was living in Welce, I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Maybe I’ve never been truly open about who I am.”
“I was open enough before I married Dederra, but I was as feckless and selfish as any young man,” Chandran said. “The longer I lived in the Karkades, the more I withdrew into myself, the less I showed my true face. And while I lived in Malinqua, I had no incentive at all to be genuine.”
“Do you have any incentive now?” she asked quietly.
He met her gaze, his dark eyes very serious. “Your friendship,” he answered. “When I am with you, I find in myself a desire to throw off disguises and present myself as I truly am. I cannot explain why this would be, and yet that is how I feel.”
“I feel the same way,” she said, her voice very low. “And I can’t explain it, either.”
He offered her the smallest of smiles. “It is good to know, however,” he said, “that we are both bewildered—and we are both willing to try.”
A shadow fell across the table and Leah looked up, expecting to see that their server had returned. She had been so deeply engrossed in the conversation with Chandran that it took her a moment to realize the person standing there was Darien Serlast. During the time it took her to mentally regroup, he had borrowed a chair from another table and gracefully settled in next to her.
“I understand you want to talk to me,” he said.
“Darien,” she said blankly. “How did you even know where I was?”
“There are guards watching the shop,” he said. “They saw you headed in this direction.” He flicked a look at Chandran. “With a companion. I did not have to look too many places.”
Annova was right, she thought. Wish I’d known about the guards when I ended up southside two nights ago. Aloud she said, “Darien, this is Chandran. A friend of mine from Malinqua. Chandran, Darien Serlast. Regent of Welce and soon to be king.”
The two men eyed each other, not even trying to be subtle about the fact that they were trying to size each other up. Leah wished them both luck. She wasn’t sure which one would be harder to read. Darien, probably. Chandran had already admitted a desire to peel back the layers of his own secrecy, but she couldn’t imagine Darien ever would.
“Chandran,” Darien repeated. “You’re the merchant.”
Chandran inclined his head. “Leah has trusted me to make some purchases for her.”
“You’re also the poisoner,” Darien added.
Chandran nodded again, not losing an ounce of self-possession. “She had just expressed an interest in meeting your daughter for reasons she would not divulge,” Chandran replied. “I wanted to disable her if her motives were dark.”
“A man of justice, I see,” Darien said.
“I try to be.”
“What brings you to Welce? Are you merely overseeing the delivery of your purchases on Leah’s behalf?”
“I was finding life in Malinqua less satisfactory than it had been in the past,” Chandran replied. “There seemed to be no reason not to explore the rest of the world.”
“Are you staying?”
“I have not decided yet. Circumstances will dictate my next course of action.”
“As circumstances so often do.”
At that point, the serving girl hurried up, carrying an extra glass and a fresh carafe of water. “Your pardon, I didn’t see you come in,” she apologized, sounding harried. But she didn’t sound overawed, so Leah’s guess was that she didn’t recognize the regent. Well, who would expect him to just take a seat at a sidewalk café without announcing his presence? “Would you like to order something?”
“Thank you, no, I’ve eaten. But I appreciate the water,” Darien said, smiling kindly at her. She bobbed her head and disappeared.
“You should smile more often. You actually look nice when you do,” Leah told him.
“I don’t always want to look nice,” he retorted.
“Oh, in that case, just maintain your usual expression.”
That amused him, though the smile he gave her was more sardonic than the one he’d bestowed on the waitress. “I’m wondering if it’s your unconventional upbringing or your five years in Malinqua that make you think you can treat your regent with such disrespect.”
Leah wrinkled her nose, trying to decide. “The time in Malinqua,” she said. “I started to believe that everyone had a secret and everyone had a price. And anyone could be rattled if you pushed hard enough.”
Darien lifted his elegant eyebrows. “Even you?”
She laughed. “Especially me. But since you already know my secrets—and my price—I don’t think you need to try to push me off balance.”
“So,” he said. “Annova tells me you need to talk to me about something.”
“I need some veneben.”
Chandran inhaled sharply in surprise, but Darien merely raised his brows again. “Not something I keep handy in the palace, since I have no use for it myself,” he said dryly. “And since, of course, I’ve endorsed harsh punishments for anyone caught selling it.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” sh
e said politely. “But I’d wager that you can obtain some more quickly than I can. Since, of course, you can do anything.”
“I’ll ask Annova’s husband, Calvin. He’s very enterprising.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Annova’s husband would have to be.”
“I assume this has something to do with our visitors?”
“It does. One of them dropped by the shop today and made the request.”
“How quickly do you need it?”
“I’m not sure. Within the next nineday, I think?”
“I’ll see what I can arrange.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “Anything else?”
“Maybe.” She could tell her voice was troubled. “She asked about Celia. Well, it was odd, the way she put it. She was wondering if you had any weaknesses, and speculated that Celia would be one of them.” She lifted her eyes to his hard gray ones. “It made me uneasy.”
“It’s an odd thing to say,” he agreed. “I’ll take steps to ensure she is even more well-guarded. Anything else?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll let you know if something happens.”
“Thank you.” Darien rose to his feet and nodded briskly at Chandran. “I’m pleased to have met you. I expect we’ll see each other again.” He strode off without another word.
Leah stared after him, then brought her gaze around to Chandran. He wore a faint smile. “Now I understand,” he said.
“Understand what?”
“Why you trusted him with your own secret. Why you were willing to work for him at such a great distance. Why you would have done anything to serve his daughter.”
“He’s cold and secretive and unyielding and absolutely hunti—which is to say absolutely infuriating,” Leah said. “But he’s honorable. I can’t think of anyone I trust more. I think most people feel that way about Darien.”
“Welce is lucky.”
“Very different from the Karkades,” Leah said.
“On so many measures,” Chandran said, “there is no comparison.”
TWELVE
Leah’s third day as a shop owner was smoother than the first two. Still busy, but not breathlessly so, and featuring fewer complicated visitors. No primes, no Karkans, no illegitimate daughters. Chandran again handled sales, Annova was responsible for restocking, and Leah waited on customers.
We make an excellent team, Leah thought, and then almost laughed out loud. Until Annova gets bored and Chandran is overcome by guilt and I make some other mistake that sends my life careening off in a new direction.
Well, she would enjoy the smooth unfolding of the days as long as they lasted.
In the evening, she headed to Darien’s city house to have dinner with the people collected under his roof. Darien had lodged in spare bachelor quarters when Leah last lived in Chialto, so she was curious to see what kind of house he’d purchased once he married the coru prime. As she’d expected, the elegant, three-story building was situated in the most expensive part of town and looked quite forbidding from the outside, but the interior was something of a surprise. The kierten was a high, open column of space topped with a glass cupola; it must be an elay haven in daylight hours. Even now that dark had fallen, it exuded an air of deep peace that was instantly calming. She followed a well-mannered servant through a series of rooms and hallways that were all equally welcoming, even whimsical. This has to be Zoe’s taste, not Darien’s, Leah decided. It was heartening to think that even someone as hunti as Darien was susceptible to the effects of a coru lover.
She was eventually shown to a small dining room where Josetta, Rafe, Virrie, Taro, and Mally were already standing. “So sorry—am I late?” she asked, nodding at the others but giving Taro a swift kiss on the cheek. He responded with a hug that briefly made her feel as safe as a child in her father’s arms.
“No, we’re just an impatient group,” Josetta said, signaling to the servant at the door. “I’m glad you could join us! We’re getting sick of each other’s company.”
“Since I just arrived, I think I should be offended,” Taro said.
Josetta bubbled with laughter. “Well, I didn’t mean you. Everyone sit down. It’ll just be a simple meal.”
They took their places around the table, making no attempt to line up by rank or connection. Mally had chosen the chair between Virrie and Taro and was showing Taro pictures she’d drawn on a sheaf of papers. Leah tried not to be jealous. Children always wanted to sit by Taro.
Rafe was on Leah’s left. “Josetta’s meals are always pretty simple,” he explained. “Down at the shelter, she’s used to cooking dinners every night for twenty or thirty people who don’t have anything except what she gives them, so she has a strong aversion to excess.”
“I’m still so impressed that she does that,” Leah said.
“Half the people in the Five Families think I’m more than a little mad,” Josetta said. “They try to excuse my behavior by saying, ‘Well, of course, she’s elay,’ but you can tell they’re still baffled.”
“Half the people in the Five Families are more than a little mad themselves,” Taro said in his rumbling voice. “They just present themselves in the way they think others will find acceptable, because they don’t want you to know.”
“Nobody at this table is pretending to be somebody they aren’t,” Virrie said mildly. “So we’ll do just fine.”
Servants brought in platters of food—which was very plain, roasted meat and hearty vegetables, served with a side of bread—and instantly retreated, allowing the diners to serve themselves. Virrie was right. This was about as unpretentious a group as anyone could have hoped to assemble in all of Welce.
“So tell us how the retail business is going,” Josetta invited, and Leah filled them in on all the activity of the past three days.
“Sounds like the worst job in the world,” Taro grumbled. “Who would care about buying all that stuff? And who would want to stand around all day indoors, trying to sell it?”
“Now, if you were a merchant, you’d be selling fruit out of a wagon in the Plaza of Women,” Josetta said. “Something harvested from the land that very day.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Taro admitted.
“Though I can’t think the torz prime will ever be reduced to earning a living that way,” Rafe observed.
“I could have been a farmer, though, and liked it,” Taro said. “Thought that was where my life was headed. I’d taken over my grandfather’s property and started making improvements.” He nodded at Virrie. “Found myself a wife. Had a baby. Life looked pretty good.”
“You didn’t know you were going to be prime?” Leah asked.
He shook his head. “My uncle was prime before me. He had three daughters and a son, and everyone assumed one of them would take up the role after him. But it didn’t work that way.”
“How did you find out?” Leah asked. “How does anyone find out? Virrie said something the other day—that the elements themselves play a role in selecting the next prime?”
“That’s right,” Taro said. “And it’s different for all of the elements.”
“These are the sorts of conversations that make people think the Five Families are insane,” Rafe said conversationally. He appeared to be enjoying himself.
“Didn’t Zoe say she learned that she was the coru prime when she didn’t drown in the Marisi?” Leah asked.
“Yes!” Josetta exclaimed. “It’s such a terrifying story!”
Leah gestured at Taro. “So how does the torz prime find out the truth?”
“There’s a patch of ground out on my property—or rather, the property that gets handed down from prime to prime. This part of the land doesn’t look like much. A few bushes, a row of flower gardens that generally run to wild roses.”
“You can’t plant anything new there,” Virrie interposed. “Nothing else will grow. A
nd you can prune those bushes down to the topsoil, but the next day they’re back. Even though they’re just scraggly little shrubs with nothing special about them, except that they’re too hardy to die.”
Taro shrugged. “The story is that the old prime walks through the garden with whoever he thinks will be his heir. If he’s right, those bushes start pushing out new green leaves and bright red flowers so fast it looks like they’re exploding.”
“Is that how it worked for you?” Josetta asked.
Taro nodded. “Pretty much. My uncle was as surprised as I was. He’d brought me out there to show me something on the other edge of the estate. We were just taking a shortcut.”
“Of course, he was seventy years old before he identified Taro as his heir,” Virrie said in her mild way. “I often wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t taken that shortcut that afternoon and the old man had simply died.”
“That’s a good question,” Leah said. “What would have happened?”
“I imagine every man or woman with a drop of Frothen blood would have tramped through that land hoping to make the bushes spring to life,” Taro said. “Eventually I would have thought to try it.”
“Is it always a Frothen?” Rafe wanted to know. “Does the power of the primes always follow bloodlines?”
“So far,” Taro said. “It doesn’t have to go from parent to child, but there’s usually a close familial connection.”
“Which leads to the next obvious question,” Leah said. “Who’s going to be your heir? You said you hadn’t picked one yet.” She remembered the conversation at Darien’s lunch table. “In fact, I think Zoe said that only Nelson had done so.”
“Which seems so unlike Nelson, doesn’t it?” Josetta said. “Imagine having five people in the room and Nelson being the one who’s most responsible.”
“Although if Kayle and Zoe are two of your other choices, then it’s not quite as surprising,” Rafe said with a grin.
Virrie nudged Leah. “Ask him again,” she said. “He never answers when I bring it up.”
“Who’s going to be your heir, Taro?” Leah repeated obediently.