by Sharon Shinn
“And to allow everyone a chance to comment on your elevated status,” he said. “Serramarra. One day to be marlady. You are to be congratulated.”
Well, if this was how he always treated Malcolm and Casserah, no wonder they held him in some dislike. Kirra wanted to laugh, but she did not want to give herself away. “It is a difficult and consuming business to govern a realm,” she said instead, her voice very serious. “I shall strive to be a steward every bit as good as my father.”
“Or even better,” Berric replied.
Really, just the edge of an insult there. She could hardly take offense since it was clear he was still enraged on Kirra’s behalf. “But what brings you to Coravann?” she asked. “My sister told me you were injured when she saw you last. Are you well enough to travel so far?”
“Yes, my leg no longer pains me, thanks to Kirra’s magic,” he said, his voice warming as he said her name. “And I came for much the same reason you did—to improve relationships. I have many friends in this part of the country. I would hope to make more.”
“I can introduce you to one man, if you have not already met him,” she said. “I was escorted by the regent, who is also bent on making friends. Do you know him? Would you like to?”
His eyes went past her to a figure across the room. “Romar Brendyn,” he said in a considering voice. “No, I do not know him, and yes, I would very much like to. That would be a kindness, Casserah.”
“Let me take you to him.”
He offered her his arm, which she thought had to cost him something, and they made their way through the crowd. Kirra noticed that virtually everyone in the room acknowledged Berric with a bow or a friendly greeting. She had not realized her uncle had such an extensive network of contacts outside of Danalustrous. Perhaps that was because everyone else in Danalustrous, particularly her father and sister, seemed so insular that it never occurred to her that lesser lords would enjoy contact with outsiders. Even the visitors from Rappengrass and Helven knew him; even those from Gisseltess and Nocklyn.
Romar was just bowing his way to the end of a conversation with a very attractive older woman when Kirra and Berric fetched up beside him. He smoothly turned away from the woman and toward them, sketching another small bow. “Serra. I see you’ve made friends among these strangers.”
“Ah, this is not a stranger. This is Berric Fann, my sister Kirra’s uncle. One of his sisters was Kirra’s mother, and Kirra has always been very close to him and to his other sister. Lord Berric, Romar Brendyn.”
It would have seemed like a torturous introduction except the nobility were always obsessed by bloodlines and could follow complex genealogical charts in their heads. “I met serra Kirra a couple of months ago,” Romar said. “I found her a most intriguing lady. I cannot remember the last time I liked anyone so well on short acquaintance.”
Whether he said that to please Berric or annoy Kirra, it achieved both ends. Berric positively glowed, and Kirra glowered. “I have never met anyone I would consider her equal,” her uncle replied.
That was certainly aimed at Casserah. “Yes, she is quite dear,” Kirra drawled, boredom creeping into her voice. “Too bad she is not with us this very night.”
Now Berric was annoyed and Romar was amused. “I am quite content with the company at hand,” Romar replied.
Berric decided to ignore Casserah and subtly turned his shoulder to her. “What brings the regent to a humble ball in Coravann?” he asked.
Romar let his eyes wander around the fine decorations and the elegant dancers. “Would you call it humble?” he asked. “I think it an impressive display of prestige and power.”
“Power?” Berric repeated. “I think most of the men and women in this room would say they have very little of it.”
“And that makes them unhappy,” Romar replied swiftly.
Berric shrugged. “Some of them. I think most would be easy to mollify. Some concessions here, some recognition there . . . They do not seem like unreasonable men to me.”
“The king and his daughter are both desirous of maintaining excellent relations with the lesser lords,” Romar said. “Perhaps sometime there could be a conference of sorts to discuss some of these—concessions.”
Berric gave a little bow. “That would be most welcome,” he said. He glanced around the room. “Though this is hardly the time.”
“No,” said Romar, smiling. “This is the time I would like to dance with serra Casserah.”
Berric flicked her a look and Kirra almost could not prevent herself from adding, Since her superior sister, Kirra, is not here for him to dance with instead. Really, she’d had no idea Berric could seem so spiteful. And she certainly hadn’t expected him to take up the cause of the Thirteenth House the minute he laid eyes on Romar. She felt she had missed all the interesting conversations of the night, which had probably occurred in darkened corners and back rooms and consisted of a lot of grumbling about the marlords and the great Houses. Not such a fun party after all.
“I will be happy to dance,” she said, accepting Romar’s extended arm. “Berric. So good to see you. Give my regards to your sister when you return home.”
She was just as glad to be whirled away into the gaiety of a romping waltz, though she instantly realized she had traded one form of unease for another. Romar held her rather closer than propriety dictated and smiled down at her with satisfaction he made no effort to conceal.
“It looks like the same woman in my arms, but somehow it feels different dancing with her when I know who she is,” he murmured. “I will look forward to Heffel’s ball.”
“There will be nothing to look forward to if you do not behave with some decorum here,” she said. “I seem to remember that all of my dances are already bespoken.”
“Nonsense. Casserah is too cold to have all the young lords throwing themselves at her feet,” he replied. “I predict you will sit out more than one number if I do not look after you.”
“Casserah is not cold,” Kirra argued. “She’s—disengaged. Unless you happen upon one of the very few topics that interests her.”
“Your uncle doesn’t like her much.”
Her laughter bubbled over. “No, wasn’t that funny? I’ve never seen him so ill-behaved. He treats me with the utmost affection. He always hated Casserah’s mother, you know, for displacing his sister. And now he hates Casserah for displacing me. It’s hard to convince him that I don’t mind.” She sighed. “It’s hard to convince anyone.”
“I’m convinced,” he said. She looked up at him, trying to read what lay behind that answer, and he smiled. “I think you would have hated being tied to Danan Hall. I think you would have tried your best to be a good marlady, and all your vassals would have loved you, and all the tenant farmers, and everyone who crossed the borders. And you would have done everything in your power to please them and keep the House strong, and you would have given up everything that you cared about, and you would have lived a frantic, hard, and wistful life. No one would have suffered but you. And I am glad your sister will be marlady instead, because I would rather that you be happy.”
Almost impossible to make a reply to that speech. He had caught it precisely, of course. Everyone else had realized that Danalustrous could do much better than to have Kirra for its leader; only Romar seemed to have realized that Kirra could hardly do worse than to have Danalustrous as her responsibility. “I do love Danalustrous,” she said in a low voice. “I need to be there from time to time, in order to feel whole, in order to—understand myself. I miss my father and my sister when I am gone from them too long. But they only hold pieces of my heart. The rest of the pieces are scattered across Gillengaria. But Casserah—her heart is whole, and it is rooted in Danan Hall.”
“My cousin is much the same way,” Romar said. “He would rather be at Merren Manor than anywhere else in the world. And it’s a fine place, a lovely hall, but it’s only a building. It’s only a plot of land. I feel the same about my own estates. I care for them, I want
them to prosper, but I could let them go without too much distress. If I have to give them up in order to serve as regent, I will do so. Gillengaria matters more to me. My life does not center on a plot of land.”
“So we have that in common,” Kirra said.
He nodded. “As we have so many things.”
She decided not to question that and let the dance come to its energetic conclusion without any more conversation. Indeed, she realized shortly, the event itself was almost over. People had already begun to leave in small groups, and Bettany was stationed at the door to offer formal farewells.
“We’ve got a long ride back,” Romar said. “It might be time to call for the carriage and the guards.”
Kirra nodded. “I have one more person to talk to. I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”
It took her a few minutes to locate Lauren, standing with her Lirren relatives on the far side of the room, and Kirra actually hesitated before going forward to join the conversation. But none of the Lirrenfolk looked actively hostile as she approached, and Lauren smiled at her.
“The regent and I are returning to the Keep now,” Kirra said. “I wondered—if your brother is indisposed and not fit for travel—would you like to ride back with us? Your own carriage could remain here to bring him in the morning.”
Lauren’s dark face lit with relief. “Oh, yes! I would be so grateful. Let me just tell Bat—and my brother—what we’ve decided, then I’m ready to go.”
It was possible Kirra surprised a look of approval on the face of the Lirren aunt, but it was possible the arched eyebrows signified nothing at all. Kirra gave them all a mute curtsey and turned away, meeting Romar near the front door to tell him she’d added a passenger.
She’d thought the news might annoy him, but instead he looked amused. “Shall we call ourselves her chaperone?” he said. He did not suggest the alternative, the truth, but clearly he understood Kirra’s intent.
“I try to never overlook a chance to do a simple kindness,” she said instead. “It will be no bad thing for Lauren Coravann to think well of Casserah Danalustrous.”
There was a tedious wait while the departing guests jostled at the front door and dozens of carriages clogged the great driveway, but eventually their coach arrived and they were settled inside. The night air was still warm enough to be welcome, so they kept the windows open. It was always easier to talk in the dark, so the three of them exchanged observations and idle thoughts until exhaustion gradually made them lose interest in conversation. Kirra could tell, by his restless movements, that Romar was wide-awake for the duration of the drive, but Lauren fell asleep with her head against Kirra’s arm when they had been in motion for about an hour. Kirra pretended to sleep a few minutes later.
And so the trip back offered no chance for flirtation or confidences, and they pulled up to the Keep having said nothing that the whole world could not overhear. Kirra could not decide if she was relieved or disappointed. She shook Lauren awake, and the three of them stumbled out of the carriage and into the shadowy foyer. Lauren was instantly whisked away by some female servant, and Kirra and Romar said brief good-byes as they separated on the first landing.
Melly was asleep when Kirra let herself into the room, and Donnal was nowhere in sight. Probably outside in some avian shape, guarding Amalie’s room. As Kirra swiftly undressed and slipped between the cool sheets, she wondered, once again, if Donnal’s absence left her disappointed or relieved.
CHAPTER 20
AMALIE was enjoying herself in Coravann. Valri and Senneth were less enthusiastic. The princess had taken an instant liking to serra Lauren and her scapegrace brother, and the three of them began meeting in the morning to go horseback riding before the air grew too hot.
“I can see why you feel compelled to saddle up and ride out behind her, but I don’t know why Valri feels she has to spend every waking moment in Amalie’s company,” Kirra said when Senneth wearily reported the details of another very early morning. They were sitting in Kirra’s room drinking hot chocolate while Amalie took a bath in private. Kirra was not yet out of bed. It was the day of the great ball and she had decided to sleep as late as her body allowed and then do nothing until the evening rolled around. She was not accustomed to such laziness, but the idea seemed appealing.
“No, I don’t understand it, either, but Valri seems bent on not allowing Amalie out of her sight, even for half an hour. She’ll sleep apart from her if she feels Amalie is safe, but once Amalie’s eyes open, Valri wants to be in the room.”
“It’s a little sinister,” Kirra said, wrinkling her nose. “Does Amalie seem to mind?”
Senneth shook her head. “No. Even stranger, she seems—it’s as if Amalie feels like she is the one protecting Valri. She can tell it soothes Valri to be near her, so she is very gentle with the queen. Whereas I,” she added with asperity, “would have shoved her out the door and locked it in her face weeks before this.”
“First setting her on fire.”
“Contrary to what you and Justin think, I have not set that many people on fire.”
Kirra sighed. “Well, that’s a disappointment.”
“Anyone you’d particularly like to see burn?”
“No, this has been a most sedate gathering. Even Toland Storian, of whom I had high hopes, has behaved with great circumspection. It’s been a dull party all in all.”
“That’s the kind I like,” Senneth said.
“I saw you talking to those odd people yesterday at dinner,” Kirra said.
Senneth grinned. “Which odd people would those be? How can you choose among them?”
“Heffel’s in-laws, I suppose. The people from the Lirrenlands. When I was introduced to them, they had nothing to say to me, but you were chatting away with them like you were old friends.”
“I’ve never met them, but I know some of their kin connections, and family relationships are the single most important part of life in the Lirrens,” Senneth replied. “They were friendly to me because I’m practically a sister. Or maybe a cousin.”
“I always forget you lived in the Lirrens—all those years ago.”
Senneth grimaced. “Seems like a different life. Before I became respectable. Before I became bodyguard to the king’s daughter.”
Kirra sipped from her chocolate. “And have your duties as bodyguard allowed you any time to spend with Tayse?” she asked in a soulful voice. “Or have you had to content yourselves with longing looks from across the ballroom?”
Senneth gave her a cool look from those gray eyes. “You’re entirely too interested in the specifics of my love life. Perhaps you should develop one of your own instead.”
“You might not approve of my choices.”
“I imagine most people disapprove of many of your choices.”
Kirra couldn’t help giggling at that, but she protested. “I am not as reckless as people think. I am no wilder than you are incendiary.”
Senneth was smiling. “Maybe it’s just that people see the potential in us all the time and it makes them distrust us.”
“They must lead extremely boring lives if watching us is their only entertainment.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d count my life as fairly adventurous, and yet I always get some amusement from watching you.”
Kirra thought about throwing a pillow at Senneth’s head, but didn’t want to risk having chocolate spilled all over the bed. “So? You and Tayse? All is well with you?”
“Yes, serra. All is well with us.”
Now Kirra’s sigh was one of happy contentment. “Then who cares that this is such a dull party? As long as there is love in the world, that should be enough for all of us.”
SHE dressed for the night in another red gown; the color was clearly Casserah’s favorite. This one was a fat satin embroidered all over with clumped gold flowers. Warm for summer wear except that the sleeves were crafted of translucent tulle that glittered with a wash of crimson. Melly coiled her hair tightly to the back of her head, al
lowing only a few tendrils to escape around her face. Appraising herself in the mirror, Kirra thought Casserah looked a bit forbidding but very beautiful. Not at all wild. Anyone who wasn’t afraid of her would likely decide she could be trusted.
Accurate enough. Anyone who earned Casserah’s loyalty would have an ally for life. But it was not an easy thing to obtain.
She joined the other women in Amalie’s room and exclaimed over Amalie’s ivory dress and braided hair. Valri was in her usual green, Senneth again in bronze. “Soon people will be able to pick us out of the crowd merely by our colors,” Kirra observed.
“It is not inappropriate to have a signature style,” Valri replied.
Though this is not mine, Kirra thought. “Shall we go down to dinner?” she said instead.