Cratag took the opportunity to slip from the glider and turn to hold his hand out to D’Marigold—Signet.
Lovely color tinted her cheeks as she put her bare hand in his. Again, like when they’d met years ago, he felt the small zing through his nerves that he’d half-thought was faulty memory. He liked it and the feel of her long, cool fingers in his hand.
She was taller than D’Hazel and stepped easily from the glider, completely balanced every second, like someone who knew her body well.
Best not to think of her lovely body. Though as soon as she dropped his hand and walked with long strides toward her home, his gaze fastened on her nice ass—muscular for such a slender woman.
As soon as they entered, stepping onto an antique but still vividly colored carpet set on a beige marble flo or, the Residence spoke, “Greetyou ladies and lords. I’ve been informed of the wonderful news that we will be having long-term guests.” The voice of the house was as mellow and smooth as the surroundings.
Avellana placed her cat on his feet, then ran to the richly polished wooden staircase at the right of the entry hall. As beautiful as everything else about the house, it was gracefully curved and had a bannister as wide as a child’s butt. “Where’s my room? I have the HeirSuite on the third floor. Where?”
A creak came as if the Residence laughed. D’Hazel sighed and followed after her daughter, steps looking quicker than the pace she preferred. Cratag fig ured she must have been running after Avellana since the child found her feet.
Keeping a keen eye out for any missteps by Avellana as she hurried up the stairs, Cratag strode past D’Hazel, a running Vinni, and Signet, bringing up the rear carrying Du.
Signet answered, “Up two flights of stairs and to the right. The MasterSuite is slightly down the corridor to the left, the MistrysSuite, my rooms, a little to the right. The HeirSuite is just beyond mine. Then we have a teleportation room and the corner turret with my meditation room, angling to the east wing.”
Cratag was appalled. A straight shot from the entryway up stairs to the Master- and MistrysSuites! Probably the most beautiful and richly appointed rooms in the Residence, and so accessible to threat. No one else seemed to be thinking of that, though, and he still didn’t know what real threats might be. Difference in status or not, he had to speak with D’Hazel.
Avellana slipped, and he steadied her with a hand.
“No running on the stairs. That’s a rule,” Signet said.
“Now, Avellana,” D’Hazel said, “We know you like to be in control of your surroundings, but you are not an adult. Nor will you be the one giving the orders here. Your father and I expect you to follow D’Marigold’s rules.”
Avellana stuck out her lower lip.
“Indeed,” added the Residence. “As generations of Marigolds have said, a true lady never runs anywhere, and stairs are to be ascended with grace and descended with the knowledge that one is making an entrance.”
Avellana tilted her head. “Really?” She glanced at Signet. “You never got to run up and down these stairs at all?”
“Ladies don’t—” D’Hazel started, but Signet answered.
“Oh, just like you, I slipped once, and a riser took a chunk out of my leg. Running is fine, and you can run in the gardens, but not near the cliffs or any stairs. That rule can apply to gentlemen, too.” She sent a look to Vinni, who flushed. He stroked the smooth glide of the bannister with his hand.
Signet said to the girl, “It would pain me if you were hurt.”
“Oh.” Avellana considered that. “And if I don’t follow the rules, I don’t get the HeirSuite, but will be moved to the smelly oldie room.”
“I beg your pardon!” the Residence said. “We have no smelly rooms.”
“How do you know? Do you smell?”
“Avellana, that is quite enough. I think instead of seeing your rooms, we should go back home and have a long talk about manners and personal comments,” D’Hazel said.
“Oh, no! It is so much lighter here. D’Hazel Residence has dark rooms and halls! I apologize, I apologize, I apologize, D’Marigold Residence.”
“A-vel-la-na!”
“Uh-oh.” The little girl sank down onto the step and put her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Mother, I shouldn’t have said that about our Residence. But this place is so pretty!”
“Thank you. I accept your apology,” D’Marigold Residence said. “It has been a while since I have had a child in my halls, but I do recall how curious they are. To answer your question, I can . . . sense . . . odors, I believe. They sink into my walls.”
Cratag picked up Avellana and swung her up the few steps to the landing. “Let’s check out your rooms.”
She giggled. “You’re so bi—.” She stopped. “I admire how strong you are, Cratag Maytree.”
“Thank you,” he said, and the procession got under way.
Then Signet was beside him. Another flight of stairs later, she waved to the opposite wall and right. “Those are my rooms, the HeirSuite is just beyond.”
As they neared Avellana’s rooms, the door swung open, again inward, revealing a large sitting room of a light orange yellow.
Signet sighed a little. “Ah, everything is fine.”
Everything was better than fine. It was obviously a room made for a cherished and refined noble girl. All was clean, and the furnishings were comfortable with a look that was essentially female: light-colored fabrics with flowers and such, as feminine as Signet.
Now that he thought about it, T’Hawthorn’s Residence was dark with tall walls and narrow windows. A protective Residence. A proper warrior’s Residence.
Cratag wouldn’t admit that he liked this better.
Light shafted in from the high windows that took up most of the wall facing the sea. In the summer the room would fill with afternoon sun. Today clouds dominated the scene until he moved close to the door-like windows and looked out to see a balcony. It was enclosed with slats of wood higher than Avellana was tall. There were occasional fancy cutouts about the size of his cat’s head from low to high. Safe for a child, as long as she or he didn’t climb up on the top rail.
Avellana threw open the door and let in the cold spring air, then shot out onto the balcony.
Signet followed fast. “Shield on!” The air shimmered in a bubble around the balcony. “Residence, please activate the security field whenever the door from the bedroom to the balcony opens.”
“Yes, D’Marigold,” the Residence said.
“Good,” D’Hazel said. She was studying the field and looking thoughtful. Avellana and all three cats were poking their faces through various cutouts. Du stretched tall to his full height, paws on the side of the balcony to see, and Beadle was craning his neck. Avellana’s cat was going from hole to hole to check on the view. Vinni T’Vine went to the rail and looked out. It was chest-h igh on him.
“Ooooh. Look at the ocean and the clouds and the rocks and the ocean!” Avellana said. She stooped down and lifted her Fam to look out the next-to-highest hole. He accepted the rough handling with a purr.
Cratag’s Fam ran to him. Up! You are the tallest, so I will see the best. Pride infused his mental tones, warming Cratag. Only a few minutes with a Fam, and he was already beginning to love it. He reached down and cradled Beadle’s butt in his hand, held him up. Beadle’s whiskers twitched. Too high. No ground. Down!
He put Beadle carefully on all four paws, and the cat staggered. Eyeing the shield, Cratag thought it was only good enough to keep children from falling. He’d have to talk to Signet about that.
“Me, hold me up!” Avellana was hopping in delight again.
Setting his hands around her waist, he lifted her. “Oooh. So beautiful. Does my bedroom have a balcony?”
“No,” Signet said, “but it has windows so you can see the ocean better. From the bed.”
“Ooooh!”
Cratag put Avellana down, and she danced a little as she said, “Thank you, GentleSir Maytree.”
&n
bsp; “Call me Cratag.”
“Thank you, Cratag.” Avellana zoomed back into the sitting room and unerringly went to the bedroom door, flung it open.
“It is orange,” Avellana whispered.
Signet winced. “I’d forgotten that. We can tint—”
“I have wanted an orange room forever!”
“She has,” D’Hazel agreed wryly.
“I believe it’s a phase,” Signet said. “At one time every girl I knew wanted an orange room.”
“Nothing like green!” Avellana said. “There is very much green on Celta. My room has always been green.”
“And we’re blessed that we have such abundant plant life here on Celta,” Signet said.
Cratag grunted, and all eyes turned toward him. “I come from the tropics.” He didn’t need to touch his face. “There can be too much green.”
“I knew I would like you,” Avellana stated. She smiled at Vinni. “Vinni told me so.”
Cratag made a half bow.
“This is really a top-of-the-pyramid suite,” Avellana pronounced, testing the bedsponge by flo pping onto it, then scrambling up. “Let’s go see yours, Cratag. Will he have the MasterSuite?”
“Yes,” Signet said.
“I’d rather he stay close to Avellana,” D’Hazel said.
“I’ll take the room across the hall.” Close to both Avellana and Signet. There was a slight flatness to D’Hazel’s gaze. Did she sense his attraction to Signet? He let his face set into impassivity. Attracted or not, he understood he was here as a caretaker cum bodyguard. Besides, D’Marigold was far above his touch, the Residence had shown him that.
Five
Very well, Cratag.” Signet frowned. “Those rooms are for a second child. My father’s younger brother who died when I was four kept that suite, so it should be furnished for a man.”
Avellana swiveled her head to stare at her mother. “Second child has a suite here? This Residence isn’t as large as ours.”
D’Hazel rubbed her temples. “If you behave well here and after your First Passage, we will speak of changing your room to the second child’s suite.”
“Where is it?” Avellana demanded.
“In the northeast corridor of the second floor, around the corner from the HeirSuite,” D’Hazel said.
Avellana opened her mouth, but Cratag decided he had had enough of female pique and opened the door to his suite. The sitting room was full of light from the east, showing as watery sun patches on beige marble floor—that the Residence would always keep warm in the winter.
The view through the tall windows was of the front gardens and gliderway. The walls were a pale gray and the furniture was dark maroon leather. He was disappointed, realizing that he liked warmer colors, liked the peach of Signet’s old rooms—and what colors did she live with now?—and his own cream-tinted walls at T’Hawthorn’s estate. But he agreed with little Avellana, a suite was much preferable to a room. Though he had a private bath at T’Hawthorn’s, he lacked a sitting room, and this was pure luxury. Two walls were filled with shelves of books, holospheres, music flexistrips, and even Family memoryspheres.
“Oh.” Avellana dismissed his suite with a glance, turned back to her mother. “You promise I can have the second child’s suite at home if I’m good here? I am the second child.”
“I said so.” D’Hazel’s expression turned stern. “While you are gone, I’ll examine the rooms and consider how they can be improved for you.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
D’Hazel nodded. She glanced along the hallway. One end had the large tower and many-paned glass doors to a sitting room, the other long windows at the end of the hall. Cratag’s and Avellana’s doors were still open, and squares of light from the rooms showed on the floor. A wistfulness came to D’Hazel’s eyes. Her Residence was probably some Earthan-l ooking castle, much grimmer than this airy place.
“Vinni, why don’t you and Avellana teleport home to D’Hazel Residence and select her things to pack,” D’Hazel said.
Cratag thought he heard/felt a little pulse from the GreatLady, and a few seconds later he heard steps on the stairs, and Vinni’s bodyguard, Hanes, rounded the corner.
His gaze went to the group of people and cats first, checking on their health, then swept the bright corridor and luxurious rooms. His eyes sparkled, and there was a quick lift of his brows at Cratag before he arranged his face in serious lines and bowed to D’Hazel. “You called, GreatLady?”
So he’d been summoned telepathically. Cratag was surprised he’d even felt a tingle.
“Can you accompany T’Vine and my daughter to D’Hazel Residence?”
“We’re only ’porting,” Vinni grumbled.
“Nevertheless, I want you escorted,” D’Hazel said.
“Of course,” Hanes said with another inclination of his torso. He held out his hand to Avellana, and she walked over and put hers in his, looked up at Hanes, and said, “I need my wall holo paintings.”
Signet made a surprised noise. “You craft holos?”
Avellana smiled widely. “It is my creative Flair.”
Child was precocious. Cratag would be earning every piece of gilt he was paid on this job.
“The nearest teleportation room is at the end of the hall, between Avellana’s suite and the turret.”
That had Avellana pulling away from Hanes and running down the corridor again. “There’s a turret near my room. I am not allowed in any of the D’Hazel towers.”
Signet raised her brows at D’Hazel, but answered the girl. “I use the room on this floor as a meditation room, so it is off-limits to you.”
“Oh.” Avellana stopped, but her cat continued to trot on to the designated door. Again, the Residence opened the door.
“Welcome, Fams,” the Residence said. “We have not had Fams in the house in my memory.”
Signet picked up her Fam. “Residence, this is Du. He’s our new Fam.”
“Greetyou, Du,” the Residence said, with an undertone of pure joy that made Cratag uncomfortable. If he listened closely, he thought he could hear the empty silence of all the other rooms in the Residence. A quietness he hadn’t experienced since he’d joined the T’Hawthorn Family, hadn’t experienced much at all except when he made the journey to Druida by himself.
Continuing, Signet said, “We will modify my suite for Du.”
“Of course,” said the Residence.
“This teleportation chamber is another lovely room,” Avellana said, in an almost adult voice. Hanes and Vinni had each taken one of her hands.
Cratag had followed them and glanced into the room with the teleportation pad that he would never use. The place was no bigger than a large closet and was paneled in a honey wood. It had a stained glass window. People who could teleport were always concerned with light.
Avellana’s Fam accepted Hanes’s offer to be carried with his free arm. Vinni counted down slowly, and all four teleported away. Cratag blinked, still a little surprised that children so young were proficient at ’porting.
“Now, shall we settle some details?” D’Hazel said smoothly from behind him.
“Of course,” Signet said. “Please come into my main sitting room, at the opposite end of the hall.”
“Ah, that lovely curve of house that can be seen and envied along much of the coast,” D’Hazel said.
“Yes, the main turret facing the sea, the largest one, though I think of ‘turret’ as stone, and these circular tiers are mostly glass set in arches.” Signet’s face softened with love.
“A most beautiful architectural feature. Which tier is this floor?” D’Hazel asked.
“Thank you, the third.”
“I don’t want Avellana to go up into the last and smallest. It’s more of an observation room, nothing but windows?”
“That’s right,” Signet said, “but it would be a shame for her to never visit that room, so let’s put it off-limits like the beach path, unless she is with someone else. Another human adu
lt,” she corrected.
D’Hazel smiled briefly. “You learn fast.”
“I hope so.”
Cratag soon realized that Signet being firm about Avellana’s rights was different than how she treated her own. Though the next few minutes were very polite, Cratag was surprised at the strange reverse bargaining. D’Hazel opened the negotiations with an offer to pay for updated security spellshields for the Residence. Signet was being politely insulted and willing to give away her services as Avellana’s companion for much less. He was hard put not to shift in his very comfortable chair.
Finally, he stood and went over to Signet, took her arm, and drew her up and out of her chair. He sent a cool smile to D’Hazel. “Please excuse us for a few moments.”
The GreatLady’s lips tightened, and she nodded then rose herself and moved to the windows and the fabulous view of the ocean framed by the tall, arched windows.
His hand firmly under Signet’s elbow, Cratag opened the door and took her out into the corridor with him, moved them down to the far end of the hallway.
Signet’s brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing?” he asked at the same time.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Your bargaining skills—” He stopped before he made a rude personal comment.
Her brows arched. “I haven’t had to bargain for anything since grovestudy.”
He groaned.
“I suppose it’s obvious.” Then she actually smiled. “But it’s not important.”
“Not important!” For a moment his mind boggled. “You have a GreatLady, one of the highest nobles of them all, wanting to engage your services as a companion for her daughter, ready to pay you . . . anything. Her very first offer is to upgrade the security of this Residence, so you need to ask for more.”
Heart Change Page 5