by Sharon Shinn
Elyssa was close enough to the window to see him, too, if she wanted, but I couldn’t be certain she looked.
At night, she dismissed Trima as quickly as possible, banished the echoes to our room, then spent hours pacing back and forth through the rest of her suite. I was not bound to her during these hours, but I was still connected to her in some profound fashion, and if I had wanted to, I could have replicated her every movement. So I knew that she spent much of her time, during every one of those hours, running her hand up and down her smooth, flat belly. Trying to detect any slight swelling, any evidence of disgrace. Often her fingers would clutch over the fabric of her nightgown, crushing the folds together. But she couldn’t destroy something inside her that she couldn’t reach.
I spent those same hours pacing, but much more cautiously than Elyssa. I was still learning exactly how to exercise control over my own limbs and muscles, still very aware of the effort it took to will myself forward on a course different from the one Elyssa set. True, I had walked under my own power whenever Elyssa released her echoes, but she always left us with some clear directive that we could feel setting us inexorably in motion. Go to your room. Sit on the sofa. Turn toward the house.
Now I had to summon my own intrinsic motivation. Now I had to discover what it meant to claim my body as my own.
I was awkward and uncertain at first, but every day the actions grew easier and more natural; every day I grew a little more sure of myself. Soon I was practicing other skills—picking up items and putting them back down again, buttoning and unbuttoning my clothes, braiding my hair. My fingers, clumsy at first, quickly grew deft. They had done these actions before, and my muscles remembered how; what was new was carrying them out under my own command.
At night, once Elyssa finally flung herself to bed and drifted off, exhausted from worry, I practiced my words. At first I would only whisper them, one at a time, naming the things I saw around me. Bed. Chair. Window. Echo. Once I was sure Elyssa was actually sleeping, I would say the words out loud, summoning the quietest possible voice that still produced a sound. And I began stringing the words together in sentences. The echo is lying in bed. The chair is by the window.
The rest of the world is sleeping, but I am awake.
We had been home two weeks when, one particularly sunny morning, Elyssa woke up and started laughing while she still lay in bed. I could hear the sound and feel her delight even from two rooms away. Not until I heard Trima enter the suite and step into Elyssa’s room did I understand what had made her so happy.
“Good morning, my lady, it’s time to—”
“Look, Trima! Blood! It’s blood!”
Trima’s voice quickened with excitement. “Your monthlies have come, then?”
“Yes! Oh, I’m so relieved I can hardly stand it!” And she laughed again.
“Well, it’s excellent news, but we’ll still have to change the bed linens,” said Trima practically. “Come on, then. Up you go.”
Elyssa was a completely changed person for the rest of the day: affectionate with Trima, civil to the servants, and kind to her aunt Hodia, with whom she played a few rounds of cards after the evening meal. She didn’t even bother to scratch my arm or pull my hair when we were alone in the room; she seemed to have forgotten that she had ever hated me. I knew all too well that this new charity wouldn’t last, but I was grateful for it while it held.
The next day her father called her into his study for a private meeting.
I had very few memories of interactions with Lord Bentam. I didn’t think it was because my bouts of consciousness had been so infrequent until recently; I thought it was because he had never spent much time with his daughter. But now, as Elyssa and her echoes took seats across from him, I took the time to assess him.
His hair was as dark as Elyssa’s, and his skin might once have been as fair, but age and hard living had darkened it to an unhealthy ruddy complexion. His eyes were black and bold, intelligent and fierce; my impression was that he missed very little. But there was an unpleasant aspect to his face—a sneering expression that seemed permanently engraved in his features. Under his fine coat, his shoulders were bulky; his hands were fleshy and powerful. He looked like a man who would be quick to anger and dangerous to cross. I had never heard Elyssa say anything that even hinted at affection for her father, and as I covertly watched him, I could understand why.
Behind him were his two echoes. They sat somewhat in the shadows that lay in the cramped space behind his massive desk, but I could still see the identical sneers across their faces. I wondered how common it was for a man with only two echoes to sire a child with three. Perhaps Elyssa’s mother had had three echoes. Perhaps Bentam had, at one point, had three of his own, until one night in a fit of rage or boredom he had tortured one of them to death. I had absolutely no doubt that if he ever decided he wanted to abuse his echoes, he would be a lot more thorough about it than Elyssa.
Neither of them bothered with a greeting, they just watched each other over the desk, and Elyssa waited in silence for whatever he had to say. He glanced at a paper in his hand and said, “You can’t marry that Roland fellow.”
Her voice was perfectly level. “Did I say I wanted to?”
Bentam grunted. “You’ve spent enough time with him lately.”
“I spend time with all the high nobles of Alberta. Isn’t that what you want me to do?”
“I want you to speak to me respectfully, or do not speak at all!” he replied, raising his voice.
Elyssa was conspicuously silent.
“Well, no matter what you’re thinking, young Roland seems to have marriage on his mind,” Bentam said at a slightly lower volume. He waved the paper at her in an accusatory way. “He wants to come meet with me—” He consulted the letter to get the exact wording. “‘At my earliest convenience.’” Now he tossed the paper aside with contempt. “There’s only one thing he can mean by that.”
“Perhaps he wants to buy one of your horses,” Elyssa said in a dulcet voice.
“Not likely. A man who wants to buy your horse says so right there when he sees you on the road, or in the hunting field. He doesn’t send delicate little missives asking for an audience.”
“I suppose not,” Elyssa said. “Anyway, Roland always buys sets of four matched horses. For himself and his three echoes, of course.”
Even I could tell that was an insult. And you only have two echoes, so you’d never have a set of four to sell him. Bentam narrowed his eyes but chose not to respond directly. “He’ll be by sometime this week, and I’m going to tell him no.”
“Are you going to tell him why? Are you going to tell me why?” I couldn’t deduce from her carefully controlled tone if she was angry or disappointed or relieved. “He’s a high noble of some wealth. I thought you didn’t care about anything except money and connections.”
“And politics,” he shot back.
“Oh, I forgot. The divine right of the western provinces to govern themselves without interference from the royal city.”
He leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly both closed and stormy. Something she’d said had made him angry—but had also touched on a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “It’s more complicated than that,” he said in a quieter voice. “But I do think King Harold has had far too much influence in Alberta and Orenza and Empara for far too long.”
Elyssa pretended to hold back a yawn. “I don’t understand what this has to do with Roland. And why I can’t marry him.”
“Because you’re going to marry Prince Jordan instead.”
I felt the shock of that statement hit Elyssa with the force of a slap. She didn’t even try to maintain her cool composure. “Because I’m what?”
“You’re going to marry Jordan. A marriage between one of the princes and one of the western provinces is the best way to maintain peace in the realm.”
“Does Harold happen to agree with you or have you just come up with this idea all on your own?”
“How special that makes me feel,” Elyssa murmured. “But I can hardly believe you even want such an alliance. You hate the king and you hate any interference from the crown.”
Now Bentam’s expression became crafty. “There are always negotiations when a member of the royal family chooses a partner. Alberta would profit considerably if Jordan took one of its daughters to be his wife. And once Alberta was pacified, Orenza and Empara would quickly fall in line.”
“Even if that’s true, I’m not sure your plan will work,” Elyssa said. “I’ve known Jordan for years, and he’s never shown the slightest interest in me. In fact, I rather think he dislikes me.”
“Maybe he does,” Bentam said, “but I’m sure he’ll try to conceal that fact when he arrives in a few days.”
Elyssa practically tumbled out of her chair, and all her echoes had to fling out their hands to keep their balance. “What? He’s coming here? So soon?”
Bentam grinned, seeming pleased at her discomfort. “As I said. So my earliest convenience for speaking with young Roland will be tomorrow afternoon, because I don’t want him skulking about when the prince comes to call.”
Elyssa rose to her feet, not waiting to see if her father was done with the conversation. “There’s so much to do! My clothes—my hair— I’ll need at least one new gown, but there’s hardly time—”
Bentam waved her toward the door and leaned back in his chair, finally showing a genuine smile. “Good. You go off and do everything you need to do in order to catch Jordan’s attention. The whole realm is counting on you.”
The next three days passed in a frenzy of fittings, since the echoes needed new outfits just as much as Elyssa did. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. While our clothing always looked similar to Elyssa’s, it was less ornate and stylish; we might wear the same purple dress to mirror three different gowns she had in her wardrobe. But to impress the prince, we all needed fashionable new attire that would rival anything he might see in the royal city. Hence, the parade of dressmakers and milliners and cobblers and perfumiers.
Four days after we learned that Jordan would be visiting, word spread through the manor that the prince’s entourage would arrive late in the afternoon. Soon enough, the whole household was gathered in the parlor nearest the door, awaiting the prince’s appearance. It seemed to take forever before there was a commotion outside the front entrance—the sound of many horses arriving all at once, wheels squeaking, carriages creaking, grooms calling out. Elyssa took a deep breath and practiced a smile.
Maybe I had seen Prince Jordan at some point in my life—before I was sentient, before I knew how to drink in all the details of the world—but I didn’t remember him. Now, knowing Elyssa might marry him, and I might live in his household the rest of my life, I was consumed with curiosity. I managed to position myself behind and a little to one side of Elyssa, so I had a clear view over her shoulder. And, like everyone else in the foyer, I watched the great double doors with unwavering attention.
It was only a few moments before those doors opened and a phalanx of young men swept in. They traveled like a flock of migrating geese, one in the lead and the others spread out behind him in a roughly triangular formation. Scanning the crowd quickly, I determined that it was made up of four originals and an assortment of echoes.
There could be no doubt that the man in the lead was Prince Jordan. He was tall and attractive, with an open and pleasant face, light brown hair, and brown eyes. Even in a room of wealthy people, it was clear he was expensively dressed. But it wasn’t his clothes that gave him such a regal bearing, I thought. There was something about his expression, his posture, the very set of his shoulders. He looked like a man bred to responsibility and power.
But he didn’t look as if arrogance was part of his makeup. I saw him nod his thanks to the servant who held the door open for him—a small gesture, but an unexpected one in a man of his position. His smile was warm and genuine, and he approached Lord Bentam with his hand already outstretched in greeting. The three echoes flanking him held their hands out as well; as Bentam had only two echoes, one of Jordan’s was left to pump the empty air.
“Good afternoon,” Jordan said. “How kind of you to welcome us to your house.”
By contrast, I thought Lord Bentam’s smile was calculating and cold, though his voice was smooth as cream. “Not at all. You honor us with your presence, my prince. How was your journey?”
“Surprisingly easy. The Charamon Road is well-maintained, and the hospitality throughout Alberta has been remarkable. We are a large party, but we were well cared for everywhere we stopped.”
“I am glad to hear it, and the governor will be pleased as well.”
“Do pass along my compliments to Lord Vincent.”
Elyssa stepped forward just enough to catch the prince’s attention before she dropped into a deep curtsey. Her echoes sank down beside her, our skirts spreading as wide as they would go, before we all rose and extended our hands to the new arrivals. “Jordan,” she drawled. “How good to see you again.”
It might have been my imagination that his smile dimmed noticeably when he turned to the daughter of the house, but he took her hand immediately in his. I was surprised by how warm his echo’s hand was on mine; usually echoes had skin that was cool to the touch, and their limbs seemed almost weightless. “Elyssa,” he said. “You’re looking as beautiful as always.”
“I’m glad you think so. I would hate to have all this effort go to waste.” She followed this with her usual low laugh, and he responded with a somewhat perfunctory smile.
“The effort doesn’t show, only the result,” he replied.
“We are glad to have you here,” she said.
Jordan gestured behind him, his echoes repeating the motion. “I’m not sure you’ve met all my companions. May I make introductions?”
One by one, the prince’s friends stepped forward and made their bows to Bentam and Elyssa as Jordan reeled off their names. One was a lord from the nearby province of Pandrea, where all the inhabitants had dark skin and brown eyes; two others, both fair-complected and blue-eyed, informed us that they were from Banchura, a province on the far eastern coastline of the kingdom. Two had two echoes apiece and one only a single echo. For some reason, this made me think well of Jordan. He was not so full of his own consequence that he would only pick his friends from among the most elite. Of course, maybe he enjoyed being the only man in the room with three echoes, which would make him more arrogant, not less so. But somehow, that was not the impression I was left with.
“We’re delighted to have you all,” said Bentam. “Let us have you shown to your rooms. Are you hungry? We could have dinner served within the hour.”
“Starving,” said Jordan.
“The noon stop for lunch seems like hours ago,” said the Pandrean lord.
Bentam motioned to one of the servants, who instantly slipped out of the room and headed toward the kitchen. “Then we will eat with all haste. Rejoin us here when you’re settled in and we’ll head straight to the dining hall.”
It was another half hour before the whole group reassembled for what Bentam was calling “a simple family meal.” By that I supposed he meant that no one was on hand except the three nobles who lived in the manor—Bentam, his sister, Hodia, and Elyssa—and Jordan and his friends. Certainly, the food itself was hardly simple, consisting of a dozen courses of the most elaborately cooked dishes. I couldn’t remember a time when the household had eaten so well.
“Naturally, we have more entertainment planned in the coming days,” Bentam said as the servants laid out the first course. “Several of the young ladies from nearby manors are most interested in joining us for any activities—”
“And we are most intereste
d in meeting them!” one of Jordan’s friends replied, to general laughter.
“But as we were uncertain when you would arrive today, we made no special plans,” Bentam finished up.
“I think our special plans will be to wash the travel grime from our faces and get a good night’s sleep,” Jordan said. “Tomorrow will be soon enough for us to go round meeting the neighbors.”
Elyssa leaned forward and smiled charmingly at all the visitors at once. My guess was that she was enjoying being the only woman amongst so many men. Well, there was her aunt, of course, but Hodia was austere and unsmiling and unlikely to inspire any of the young men to flirt with her. “So tell me all the gossip from Camarria!” she invited. “I hear Queen Tabitha held a big spring gala that half the city attended!”
“It certainly seemed like half the city was there,” Jordan agreed. “My father complained about the expense, but the event was so popular that it will probably become an annual event. I think she’s already booking theatrical groups for next year’s party.”
Elyssa slanted a quick look at Lord Bentam. “I shall have to beg my father to send me to the royal city next spring,” she said. Then she bestowed a bright smile on Jordan. “And beg your father to invite me, of course.”
He gave her a courtly nod. “You are welcome anytime,” he said politely. “I will make sure you are on the list of preferred guests.”
“I would hope some of my special friends would be there, too,” she pursued. “The triplets from Banchura—surely you would invite them?”
“Oh, they were on hand this year as well, and all their echoes,” said one of the lords who was also from Banchura. “They are practically a party all on their own.”
“And Vivienne of Thelleron,” Elyssa added. “Was she present?”
I thought Jordan tensed up slightly. “She was.”
Elyssa touched a napkin to her lips—just for show, I thought, as I repeated the gesture. I doubted she really needed to wipe any crumbs from her mouth. “We are all hoping for an interesting announcement very soon,” she said. “Between Vivienne and the crown prince.”