by Sharon Shinn
Again his grip tightened; his eyes were momentarily intense. “As long as you take your true shape for a little while.”
“I would not deny myself that privilege,” she said softly.
The music ended. They exchanged elaborate bows and curtseys. “I don’t think I have any more dances to spare for you tonight, my lord,” Kirra said in a shaky voice. “I find you a curiously unsettling partner.”
“Then we will not dance,” he said. “We will look for other ways to communicate.”
She could only be glad Seth Stowfer appeared at that moment to ask for the favor of a dance. She absolutely had no reply.
The evening progressed in a tolerably enjoyable fashion. More than one of her partners commented on Casserah’s unnaturally buoyant mood, but Kirra found it hard to repress her high spirits. She felt giddy, actually, silly as a girl, and all at the thought of what might come after the ball. How could Senneth contrive to look so staid? How could she contain a love that was anywhere near this monumental? Perhaps she had just settled in to her happiness, that was all. Perhaps, during that leisurely return to Brassenthwaite, Tayse by her side, she had been just as joyous, just as dizzy, as Kirra felt now. Kirra would have to ask her.
Although. Better not. The fewer people who knew about this affair, the better. Senneth’s discretion could be trusted unconditionally, but talking became a habit. Next Kirra would be discussing her love life with Cammon, with Justin, with Donnal.
No. Never that.
Some of her exhilaration left her, and she was more subdued as she whirled around the room with Darryn Rappengrass. Yes, she told him, she and all her friends would be at his mother’s party next week. No, she did not believe she had ever attended such an event in Rappengrass. Yes, she was quite looking forward to it. No, she had not heard from Kirra lately.
“Well, I have sent her an invitation, express to Danalustrous,” he said, smiling. “Perhaps she will change her mind and come join us.”
“You never know,” Kirra replied.
Once that dance had ended, she searched the ballroom till she found Senneth, doing her best to disappear. In fact, Kirra had to locate Valri first and then stare at the surrounding stone-work until she was able to pick Senneth out from the walls.
“How does Amalie ever find you?” she demanded when she finally tracked down her quarry. “Wouldn’t that be a terrible thing, if Amalie was looking for you and you’d melted away?”
Senneth laughed. “Amalie never seems to lose sight of me. I think she just remembers where she left me and always comes back to that spot.”
“Maybe she’s like Cammon, and she’s impervious to magic.”
Senneth snorted. “No one’s like Cammon.”
Amalie herself waltzed up a few minutes later, golden and glowing. Toland Storian, still trying to make up to her for past transgressions, was the partner depositing her back beside her chaperones. He bowed very low, kissed her hand, and turned with some reluctance back to the throng.
“Has our Amalie made a conquest?” Kirra marveled. “And of such a sulky boy?”
“He seems very devoted,” Senneth said.
“I can’t stand him,” Amalie said. “But I try not to show that. He’ll be marlord some day.”
“More and worse marlords in the other eleven Houses,” Kirra said cheerfully. “You probably won’t be able to stand any of them.”
They talked in much the same vein for the next few minutes. Kirra had her back to the dance floor, so she couldn’t see if anyone approached them, but suddenly Senneth’s face went cold and her whole body stiffened. Kirra spun around to find Halchon Gisseltess right behind her, bowing low to the floor.
“Serras,” he said in his beautiful voice. “Majesties.”
Valri quickly moved up a step to stand on one side of Amalie; Senneth was on the other. Kirra positioned herself between Senneth and the marlord. “Ah, you decided to stay another day,” she drawled in Casserah’s bored voice. “I thought you might have gone home by now.”
“Home, when I feel so welcome here?” he asked.
“What do you want?” Senneth asked flatly.
He bowed again in Amalie’s direction. “What every man wants this night,” he said. “A dance with the beautiful princess.”
“No,” Valri, Senneth, and Kirra said in unison.
“I’ll be happy to take a turn with you,” Amalie said.
They all stared at her. “Amalie, he cannot be trusted to even touch your palm,” Senneth said in a low voice. “He is not one of the marlords you need to flatter and placate. He is dangerous.”
“I’m not afraid,” Amalie said, and held out her hand.
Halchon closed his fingers over hers and led her onto the floor. The three of them were left gaping as Halchon and Amalie dipped gracefully into the cotillion. The marlord appeared to hold her in an avuncular grip, though his smile was a little sinister. Amalie seemed perfectly relaxed and her own smile was unforced and genuine.
“The day I get that girl safely back to Ghosenhall is the day I allow myself to lie down and die,” Valri said.
The day you get her back safely? Kirra wanted to ask, but she had to admit to general sympathy with the sentiment. Senneth asked, “Is this why the king has kept her locked up so long? Because she is so fearless as to seem almost foolhardy?”
Valri shook her head. “She’s not foolhardy. She is—I don’t know what she is. She’s dancing with Halchon Gisseltess.”
“I say you set him on fire,” Kirra suggested. “Just on general principle.”
“I don’t think he’ll succumb to my flames,” Senneth said regretfully. “Or I would.”
“I need a drink,” Valri said. “Anyone else want some wine?”
Even Casserah bent her usual rules under these circumstances and accepted a glass of rich red liquid. Valri was on her second goblet by the time the music ended and Halchon returned his charge.
“I enjoyed that immensely,” he told Amalie, bowing once more. “Perhaps we can dance again at some other event.”
“I doubt it,” Amalie said in a sunny voice. “I don’t like you. Oh, Valri, could I have some of your wine?” As she spoke to the queen, she turned her shoulder on Halchon, ignoring him as effectively as if he had learned Senneth’s spells of invisibility. After a moment of stunned silence, he stalked away.
Kirra and Senneth were left staring at each other, Kirra summoning all her strength to keep from giggling. “It just gets more entertaining by the moment,” she managed to say.
“I think I need a second glass of wine myself,” Senneth said.
But Kirra didn’t think Casserah would fall so far, so she made her excuses and wandered away. Another dance with Darryn, a light and shallow conversation with Mayva, and the evening slowly progressed toward midnight.
She had taken an empty seat in a shadowy alcove between two back pillars when another woman joined her in a puff of silken skirts. “Oh, my feet are already sore,” the woman exclaimed. “And you know the dancing will go on another two hours at least. I just have to sit awhile and rest my toes.”
Kirra was trying not to stare, but she could not think of any reason Sabina Gisseltess would have for seeking out Casserah Danalustrous.
CHAPTER 29
IT took her a moment, but Kirra finally found her voice. “Yes, I find that both the dancing and the conversation get wearisome after the first hour has passed,” she said.
A look of distress came to Sabina’s face. Her cheeks paled and her tremulous lips turned down. “I’m sorry—did you want to sit by yourself for a while? I’ll go somewhere else.”
“No. Of course not. Your conversation has to be more entertaining than Toland Storian’s.”
Sabina looked uncertain. “I suppose it depends on what you would wish to talk about. Many people think I have very little to say.”
Kirra laughed. “You have teenage sons, do you not? Most parents are happy to talk about their children.”
“Yes, but not so m
any people are interested in hearing those stories,” Sabina retorted.
“Well, you can pick the topic, if you like,” Kirra replied, actually amused. “Land improvements. Ballgowns. Trade routes. Taxes. What courses you preferred at dinner. I will strive to appear fascinated by anything you say.”
“I wanted to ask you a favor,” Sabina blurted out.
Kirra kept her face impassive. “Certainly, if it is in my power.”
“I want a chance to talk to your friend Senneth.”
It was harder to appear nonchalant at that. “I can take her a message.”
Sabina shook her head. She looked both purposeful and desperate, a bad combination. “Now. Tonight. I need to talk to her. I need to tell her—it’s important.”
Kirra glanced out at the dance floor. Halchon was partnered with Mayva, and both of them looked bored. “I assume your husband mustn’t know you’re speaking with her.”
Sabina’s face registered fleeting terror. “No. He—no.”
Kirra nodded. “All right. Let me think.” The ballroom was connected to the dining room by a short hallway lined with four other doors. Kirra knew, because she was curious and had investigated, that one of them was a small pantry where the servants stored extra linens and wineglasses should these items be instantly needed on the dance floor. “There’s a little room right off the ballroom where you can talk in private. I’ll make sure Senneth is there—in an hour. That will be enough time from now so that even if your husband is witnessing our conversation he won’t think your actions have anything to do with what we’ve discussed.”
“Where is this room? How do I find it?”
Kirra grinned. “I shall send someone to your side to guide you there. A handsome young man in Danalustrous colors. No one will be surprised if you slip away with him for a little flirtation.”
Sabina laughed softly but somewhat wildly. “Everyone would be surprised. It would not be the sort of thing I do.”
Kirra turned to give the woman a good hard look of appraisal. None of this seemed like the sort of thing Sabina would do. She looked like the tiniest, most helpless thing, and Kirra couldn’t imagine that she wasn’t completely dominated by her husband. Was this a trap of some sort? Had Halchon sent her to lure Senneth from Amalie’s side? With that possibility in her head, would Senneth even agree to the meeting?
Sabina met her eyes. “What? You don’t trust me.”
“I am always open to the possibility of betrayal.”
Sabina nodded. “Yes. I can see that—yes. What can I do? What can I say to make you believe that I come to you on my own, without my husband’s knowledge?”
Kirra wished Cammon were here so that he could tell her if the marlady lied or told the truth. But adding even one more player to the mix seemed dicey in the extreme. If Sabina really were bent on deceiving her husband, the last thing she needed was a parade of mystics calling attention to her behavior.
“Whether you are lying or telling the truth, I think Senneth will want to hear you out,” she said slowly. “I will take the measures I deem necessary to keep everyone safe. Remember. One hour. A young man in Danalustrous colors will come for you.”
“I’ll be ready,” Sabina said.
Seth Stowfer appeared just then, bowing to the marlady and asking for a dance. Belying any evidence of sore feet, Sabina jumped up and allowed him to lead her away. She didn’t even glance back at Kirra.
Kirra started making the rounds.
First to the great door that led to the main hall, where Tayse was stationed just outside. “Something odd just happened,” she said. “I think we might want the rest of the Riders here.”
She told her story, and he nodded. Motioning to one of the servants, he sent the man to collect reinforcements.
“Try not to look conspicuous,” she said. “We don’t want Halchon to wonder if something’s going on. But while Senneth is not standing there overseeing Amalie, I think the Riders had better be.”
“I’ll watch from the door,” he said. “And the others will stay out of sight. But I think you’re right.”
Next back to the ballroom to find Romar and tell him the tale. “While Senneth is gone, I think you should be dancing with your niece,” she said. “You should be able to defend her from any assault for as long as it takes the Riders to cross the dance floor.”
“You have a poor opinion of my fighting skills,” he commented. “I could defend her for longer than that.”
“It might not be necessary,” she said. “But—I can’t tell. I don’t want to take stupid risks.”
He arched his eyebrows, and she felt her whole face kindle in a blush. “Stupid risks with Amalie’s life,” she amended.
“Ah. As long as there isn’t a moratorium on risks in general.”
She shook her head. “You deserve to live and die alone.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But not tonight.”
Once everyone else was in place, she sidled through the crowd to Senneth’s side. Valri was actually sitting down, no doubt dizzied by her intake of alcohol, but her eyes were fixed unwaveringly on a spot on the dance floor. Kirra didn’t even have to look to know the queen was watching Amalie. Senneth, only slightly more relaxed, was spreading her attention more generally through the entire crowd.
“I’ve made an assignation for you,” Kirra told her in a teasing voice.
Senneth gave her an inquiring look. “Is he young, handsome, and noble? More suited to my station in life than a King’s Rider?”
“Yes, I was mortified to hear you gossiped about last night at the dinner table, so I have stepped in to matchmake for you,” Kirra replied. “I know your brothers will appreciate it.”
“Thus are the bonds between Brassenthwaite and Danalustrous strengthened even more.”
“Though I can’t imagine you’ll find yourself romantically drawn to this particular individual,” Kirra said.
“Do you suppose you might give me a name? Or shall I go to this meeting wholly unprepared? Where and when am I having this tryst, by the way?”
“Tonight. About half an hour from now. In the little storage pantry off the hall to the dining room.”
Senneth nodded. Like Kirra, she was inclined to familiarize herself with her surroundings and had obviously noticed this room already. “And the name?”
Kirra leaned so close she barely had to breathe the syllables. “Sabina Gisseltess.”
Senneth’s eyes widened, but she showed no other change of expression. Kirra almost thought she wasn’t surprised, which was highly irritating. “Ah,” was all she said.
“I’ve alerted Tayse and he’s assembling the Riders. I’ve told Romar to guard the princess while you’re gone. Even if it’s a trick, I think Amalie will be safe.”
“I don’t think it’s a trick,” Senneth said.
“What do you know?” Kirra demanded.
Senneth shook her head. “Nothing. I’d never met her till last night. But she just struck me as—” She shook her head again.
“Someone afraid for her life.”
Senneth nodded. “Yes. And wouldn’t you be if you were her?”
“Yes,” Kirra said. “But I don’t know that I’d run for help to the woman my husband would murder me to marry.”
Senneth gave her a wide, brilliant smile. “Who else could possibly help her?”
Kirra drifted away from Senneth, drifted through the ballroom, drifted out the door to the servants’ hall. As always in every great house, this hall was shadowy and cool, with faint sounds of laughter and bustling coming from the direction of the kitchen. It might not be safe to change here, so close to other people; at any point, a footman could round the corner and stumble across her. So Kirra did it in stages, first shortening her hair, then roughening her features, then turning her red ballgown into red breeches topped by a red waistcoat. Eventually she was a more soberly dressed man—keeping only the red waistcoat—with short dark curls and an earnest expression. The ruby on her hand as well as the
color across her chest proclaimed her a man of Danalustrous.
Now she strode confidently into the ballroom and glanced around. Senneth was gone. Amalie was dancing with her uncle. Kirra could see Tayse’s dark shape hovering just outside the great doorway. Halchon Gisseltess was deep in conversation with Rafe Storian and Seth Stowfer. Sabina stood chatting with a few insipid-looking women in Nocklyn colors. No doubt wives and daughters of some of the more favored Nocklyn vassals.
Kirra crossed the dance floor, trying to look casual about her direction, pausing now and then to smile at a pretty girl or exchange greetings with a young man about her own age. Sabina seemed completely unaware of her approach and turned with a start when Kirra touched her on the arm.