by Sharon Green
A bell on the shop door tinkled as we walked in, and an older woman came through closed curtains all the way at the back. She parted her lips, probably to tell us she was about to close, but then she looked at us again and simply smiled.
“Please take your time looking about, gentles,” she said in a tone that told us she would never have done the same for anyone but us. “If you see something that pleases you, I’ll be standing right here.”
Right where she could see into the many mirrors arranged discreetly around the shop, she meant. Those mirrors would let her know if we stole something, without her having to be right on top of us. I’d learned all about that years ago, as a girl, but Rion seemed to know nothing about it.
“Decent of her not to hover,” he murmured, obviously intent on looking at her merchandise. “I detest clerks who hover…”
His voice trailed off as he drifted toward a case of jewelry on the right, but I went the other way. Attractive bolts of cloth were closest to the door with a riot of ribbons beyond them, but my eye had been caught by the blown glass ornaments just past the ribbons. I’d always loved things made of blown glass, but none of it had ever been expensive enough for Gimmis to buy. Now that I had money of my own, I could consider buying anything I pleased.
Half of the glass items were beautiful little animals, the facets in the glass making them gleam in the lamplight with all the colors of the rainbow. The rest of the glass had been made into variously-shaped perfume bottles, most of them delicately and carefully tinted or decorated in different colors. I immediately fell in love with everything on display, which was very depressing. How was I supposed to choose one—or at most two—of them to buy?
“I see you’ve found something to attract your eye,” Rion said suddenly from my left, sounding amused. “We can return here in a moment, if you like, but now I would appreciate your opinion on something.”
“Of course,” I answered with a sigh, momentarily giving up on deciding among the little glass figures. Possibly once I helped Rion, I’d come back to discover that I’d made up my mind. I walked with him to the other side of the shop, where he stopped in front of the jewelry case to point.
“Which of those three brooches do you think Naran would like best?” he asked in a murmur. “I’ll pretend I’m buying it for you, and then I’ll take it with me.”
“They’re all beautiful,” I granted him, and I wasn’t lying. “That silver one with the diamonds is probably the most expensive, then the gold and ruby one, and then the silver and pearl. The workmanship on each is above average, but certainly isn’t the product of a master jeweler. They’ll probably be priced at more than they’re worth, but if you really like one of them there’s no reason not to buy it.”
“Forgive my stare,” Rion said automatically, and he was staring directly at me. “I find myself very surprised, and indeed a bit amazed. I’ve never heard a summation like that from anyone who wasn’t a jewelry expert.”
“If you think I’m good, you should try my sisters,” I said a bit sourly. “Mother wanted us all well-prepared to gauge the value of any gifts given us, and to be able to know what to choose if the choice happened to become ours. I learned it all because I wasn’t allowed not to, but what I learned most thoroughly was an indifference to all of it. I’d prefer gifts with less cost and more thought behind them.”
“Less cost and more thought,” Rion mused, glancing at the brooches before looking over to where the glasswork was. “Something tells me Naran may feel the same, so why don’t we go back to what you were looking at.”
I agreed rather happily, and led him back to what I intended to buy. Unfortunately I discovered that I still hadn’t made up my mind, which was more a disappointment than a surprise.
“Madam, a moment of your time, please,” Rion called, and the woman who was in charge of the shop came over looking less pleased than she had. She’d obviously wanted Rion to buy one of the brooches, but her expression said that any sale was better than none at all.
“Tell me something about these figures,” Rion continued once she stood on the opposite side of the counter from us. “Do you have others that aren’t out here on display?”
“Only near duplicates of the ones you see,” the woman replied. “Even though they’re all made by the same glassblower, no two are exactly alike. That gives each piece a unique quality that many people envy when they see it.”
“Unique is a quality that has always attracted me,” Rion answered her sales ploy with a charming smile. “In fact, I really appreciate the concept of unique in quantity. Which of these pieces do you have the fewest number of left?”
“Why … I believe it’s that one,” the woman responded, pointing to a darling little seated cat. “That and this particular perfume bottle over here. If I recall correctly, I have only one more of each of them.”
“Perfect,” Rion said, still showing his charming smile. “Then I’ll take this entire display, and the last two of the ones you pointed to. Please wrap the additional ones separately, as their rarity makes them especially valuable.”
“Why, yes, of course, I’ll certainly do that, sir,” the woman exclaimed, clearly as startled as I was. “I’ll wrap the more valuable ones first, and then return to do these. The price of the whole purchase is seven silver dins.”
Rion handed over a gold din, and the woman went happily away to get the other figures and Rion’s change. I sighed as I watched her go, feeling the old feeling that the world had passed me by.
“Is something wrong?” Rion asked as soon as she’d disappeared through the curtains. “Your sigh sounded rather forlorn.”
“I hadn’t realized that I could have bought all the figures,” I admitted ruefully. “If I hadn’t spent so much time trying to decide on one or two, all of them could belong to me. Now I can’t even get the one or two, or the woman will start to wonder. You are supposed to be buying them for me, after all, and anyone questioning the woman later will become suspicious if I buy more of the same.”
“Your analyses continue to be extremely accurate, except for one minor point,” Rion said, reaching over to touch my hand. “I also expect someone to come here with questions, and that’s why I gave the woman a reason for my buying duplicate figures. The two duplicates are what I’ll be taking to Naran. The rest of the figures are yours.”
“Mine?” I whispered, not quite believing my ears. “You bought them for me? Why?”
“Perhaps because I saw how you were unable to decide among them,” he replied with a gentle smile. “Or perhaps it’s because I’ve never before bought a gift for a friend. It’s odd how delightful the feeling is, to give a gift to someone you care about. I often gave gifts to Mother because I was taught that they were expected, but giving them never felt like this.”
“Rion, thank you,” I said, unable to rid myself of the whisper—or the tears which had begun in my eyes. “No one has ever given me anything like this—”
I found I couldn’t go on, not all choked up as I was. The little glass figures were the most wonderful things in the world right now, and it didn’t even matter that I hadn’t bought them for myself. Being able to buy them meant I no longer cared who actually did the buying. We stood there for a few moments with Rion grinning and me sniffling, and then the woman came back with a small box and Rion’s change.
Rion put away his change and then took the box, holding it while the woman packed the rest of the figures into a larger box. She had paper trays with forms pressed into their surfaces to set the figures into, and then the trays went into the box one at a time with thick cotton wool between each layer. When she finally closed the box I was fairly certain the figures were protected from being broken, but there was a moment of awkwardness when Rion tried to take the larger box, too. He needed both hands to manage it properly, and one of his hands was already occupied.
So he did the only practical thing: he put the small first box into his cloak, and then his hands were free for the large one. His p
lan had been a clever one, but I’d almost ruined it by volunteering to take the small box before I realized he wanted to put it in his cloak. The people watching him would see only the one big box that he would give to Lorand. The second, smaller box would then be able to go with him.
We left the shop with the woman’s warm invitation to come back ringing in our ears, and once outside I drew my cloak a bit more tightly around me. The evening was beginning to be chilly, and the short walk to the dining parlor made me eager for its warmth. We walked inside calmly and easily, closed the door behind us—and then all three of us went into a frenzy of activity. I held the big box while Lorand and Rion quickly exchanged cloaks in the dim entranceway, Rion took the gift for his lady and put it in his new cloak, and Lorand told Rion where the stables was and what arrangements he’d made. It couldn’t have taken more than a minute, and then Rion was heading for the back door while Lorand relieved me of the box.
“And that should do it,” Lorand said with a smile once Rion was gone. “Now all I have to do is remember to keep my back turned, and everything should be fine.”
“I hope so for Rion’s sake,” I said with a headshake. “He really deserves to be rid of his mother’s manipulations, and maybe this will be the start of it. And now you and I can get something to eat.”
“About time, too,” Lorand agreed, gesturing me ahead of him out of the dimness and toward the host’s station. “I got here earlier than I expected to, and immediately began to get hungry.”
Since the aroma of marvelous food permeated the air like teasing perfume, I could understand that perfectly. The host greeted us and quickly led us to a table, and we lost no time in ordering. Once the servant had brought us tea and small meat and cheese pastries to hold us until the food came, Lorand leaned back in his chair to study me.
“I wonder if you would mind helping me think about something I don’t understand,” he said, his fingers toying with one of the pastries that he hadn’t yet tasted. “It isn’t all that important, so if you aren’t in the mood…”
“Just remember what I said last time about wanting to give advice,” I returned when his words simply trailed off. “If you ever hear me say I’m not in the mood, you’ll know there’s something seriously wrong with me. Now, what is it you don’t understand?”
“It’s … the way I felt today, after the competition,” he said with a vague gesture, obviously groping for the right words. “I think you know how I’ve been feeling, which is … worried about the amount of power I’ve needed to use. When I got to the competitions building this morning, I was incredibly relieved that I wasn’t going to have to push myself to win.”
I nodded encouragement and agreement, glad that the pleasant background music covered most of Lorand’s soft words. We were now discussing some things that others shouldn’t know about.
“Well, while I was actually performing during the competition, I remember wishing the exercise could have been harder,” he continued, now looking deeply disturbed. “Afterward I felt dissatisfied over having had to lose, and not in the least relieved. Now I’m afraid there’s something wrong with me, and I don’t know what to do about it. Whatever the condition is, it’s dangerous.”
“Because part of you is no longer worried about being burned out,” I said with another nod, finding it surprisingly easy to see the point. “You’ve lived with the fear for so long, that you feel naked and vulnerable without it. I felt the same way at first about obeying my father. I’d done it for so long that stopping in order to save my sanity and life still felt wrong.”
“But that’s hardly the same thing,” he protested, his soft brown eyes troubled. “Breaking the habit of obedience did save you, but breaking the habit of intelligent caution does the exact opposite.”
“Now I think you’re getting to the heart of the matter,” I said with a faint smile. “You said ‘intelligent caution,’ but is that what it really is? We’re all now in a position where we have to be as strong as possible, or we could end up losing our lives in any number of different ways—most of which we don’t even know about. Can something which interferes with that demanding a survival need be called intelligent caution?”
He couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, and again I found it easy to understand why. Pulling myself out of the deadly habit of blind obedience had been unbelievably hard, and I still hadn’t accomplished it all the way.
“Our … situation is forcing you to rethink the beliefs of a lifetime,” I continued gently, drawing his gaze again. “Without your crippling fear you’re obviously a natural competitor, and now your true nature is trying to force its way through the bindings you’ve kept on it. It knows you need it in order to survive, so for the first time it’s fighting the unnatural restrictions you’ve imposed. In my opinion there’s nothing wrong with you, only something starting to be right.”
“Even if ignoring the warning could get me killed?” he asked, still looking horribly uncertain. “Or, as it happens, worse than killed?”
“There are a lot of things worse than getting killed, but having your mind wiped out isn’t one of them,” I told him bluntly, forcing away thoughts of what waited to take me. “As long as you have no idea about what’s going on around you, you might as well be comfortably dead. And if you think being dead isn’t comfortable compared to … being appropriated and used like a slave, for instance, I have even more news for you. It is.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m going to have to think about this,” he said after a moment with a sigh. “Maybe if I can keep just a little of the fear, I won’t do anything too stupid… Thanks, Tamrissa, for listening to my problems again. You really are a good friend.”
“My pleasure,” I said with a smile that didn’t last very long. Both Lorand and Rion were good friends I really valued, but when my thoughts took off in a direction of their own, it wasn’t either of them I thought about. Another man always seemed to be there, a man I hadn’t had much luck in getting along with. It was a stupid waste of time, especially now when he wasn’t even speaking to me any longer, but—
But I still couldn’t wait to get home and go to my apartment. This was week’s end night, the night I’d promised him, and maybe … just maybe … please…!
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Rion slipped out of the back of the dining parlor, excitement beginning to rise in him really strongly. Now he was actually on his way to see Naran, something he hadn’t fully believed he’d manage. He was so used to being thwarted at every turn rather than being helped…
A quick glance around showed no one in sight, so Rion moved through the deepening darkness toward the stables where Coll had rented a horse for him. Traveling on horseback would be faster and easier than using a carriage, even though he would probably need a bath house after the trip. He hadn’t been allowed to ride more often than was fashionable, but he’d been on horseback often enough to know that much.
The horse was saddled and waiting for him, and when the stableman said something about Rion’s “brother,” Rion knew approximately what Coll had told the man. It was fortunate that they two looked so much alike; a number of problems had been circumvented because of it.
Carriage coach traffic was light at that time of the evening, so Rion made good time finding his way to Naran’s new place of residence. The street was an upper middle class neighborhood, meaning it was fairly wide but not comfortably so, and the houses had very little in the way of grounds around them. The houses themselves were also small, and the largest of them couldn’t have contained more than four or five bedchambers. Rion had never visited a neighborhood like this, but for Naran he was willing to dare anything.
A large stable seemed to serve a good portion of the area, and that was where Rion left his horse. He felt tempted to ask directions to the house he sought, but instead took Naran’s gift from his saddlebags, where he’d cushioned it with his cloak, donned the cloak, then left without asking. No one could have followed him, but discretion was
the much wiser course.
Coll’s dark brown cloak let Rion move invisibly through the darkness, and it wasn’t long before he found the proper house. Feeling extremely proud of himself, Rion began to head for the front door—before he remembered that the fewer people who saw him, the better. Decorative lanterns lit the front of the house, and anyone walking up to the door would be visible to anyone who happened to be looking out of any of the neighboring houses.
So Rion took a lesson from Naran, and went looking for the servants’ entrance. He looked all the way around to the back of the house, in fact, but the thing must have been on the other side of the house. All Rion found was a back door, dimly lit by a very small lamp, so he tried knocking there instead.
A very long moment passed, and then Rion heard someone unlocking the door. Thinking it would be a servant, he began to put together a semi-coherent explanation of what he was doing there. The door opened and he parted his lips, but all explanations became suddenly unnecessary. It was Naran herself who stood there, dressed in a high-necked and long sleeved gown of gold velvet, and her beautiful face lit up when she saw him.
“My lord, you came after all!” she exclaimed softly as she stepped back to allow him entrance. “I prayed that you would, and now I’ve been answered.”
“Nothing short of death could have kept me away,” he told her quite sincerely as he moved inside and closed the door behind himself. “I’ve thought of little else but this moment since you came to the residence, and now we’ve finally reached it.”
“Yes,” she breathed, moving into his arms, and then their lips were finally touching. Rion kissed her with all the growing hunger of his heart, and she seemed to respond in the same manner. They joined in a serious attempt to devour one another, and after a long, satisfying time she reluctantly eased back.