by Sharon Shinn
Elyssa’s surprise seemed sincere. “Why not? Who wouldn’t want to go to Camarria?”
Cormac gestured toward the far end of the room, where Jamison stood sulking by himself. “Apparently my brother spoke to her offensively over the meal and her brother had words with him in the hallway,” Cormac said. “I have told Jamison he must stay a day or two and make amends, but I fear Lady Velda would just as soon avoid any city where my brother happens to be in residence.”
“Well, I am looking forward to the visit,” Elyssa said. “Who else are you inviting? Will I know them?”
“Probably, or at least you will know of them,” he replied. “They include the
triplets from Banchura, Dezmen and his sister Darrily from Pandrea, Marguerite Andolin of Orenza—”
“Marguerite,” Elyssa interposed. “I have wanted to meet her for so long! Is this her first visit to Camarria?”
Cormac’s expression did not change in the slightest; if he had plans to marry the noblewoman, you wouldn’t have known it by his face. “I believe so, yes.”
“Do you know her? What’s she like?”
“I just came from Oberton, in fact. She impressed me as thoughtful and intelligent, but a little reserved. My guess is that she is not an easy woman to get to know.”
Elyssa made a graceful gesture. “But then, all women know how to be mysterious. It is how we enthrall men!”
The prince laughed. “Yes, that has been my experience.”
“So who else will be there?” Elyssa asked with apparent artlessness. “Vivienne of Thelleron?”
This time his self-control cracked, just for an instant. I thought I saw something on his face that might have been pain and might have been anger. “She has been invited,” was all he said.
Elyssa put her hands together. “It sounds absolutely marvelous!” she said. “I will run up to my room tonight and begin packing!”
Cormac managed a smile. “I am glad you will be able to join us. I’m sure my brother is looking forward to renewing his acquaintance with you.”
Elyssa was smiling widely. “I am sure it will be the event of the year.”
Preparations for Elyssa’s trip to the royal city consumed the manor house for the next week. If anyone—from the head housekeeper to the youngest footman—had any other occupation, it was invisible to me. Parades of tradesman trooped through the halls, bringing fabrics, shoes, jewels, headpieces, scarves, cosmetics, and anything else that Elyssa might need for her appearance at the royal court. An entire team of seamstresses took up temporary residence in a few of the guest bedrooms so they could work day and night on a new wardrobe.
Two days before we were due to set out for Camarria, a small tragedy struck. Trima was carrying a pile of freshly washed underthings up the back stairwell when her foot slipped and she fell backward, landing badly on one leg. One of the housemaids found her twenty minutes later, nearly unconscious from the pain, the filmy drawers and chemises settled over her body like drifts of lacy snow. The housekeeper and the head groom, old hands at dealing with injuries, set her leg and dosed her with concoctions meant to ease the pain, but they made it clear she would be bedbound or at least housebound for the foreseeable future.
“What— You mean she can’t come with me to Camarria?” Elyssa demanded, when Hodia told her the news. “But I need her.”
“The new maid, Gretta, will travel with you. And you can take one of the other serving girls if you think you need two. Though I myself have always made do with one maid, and I think you can manage for the duration of your visit.”
“I don’t like Gretta.”
“Well, then you can dress yourself,” Hodia said coldly.
Elyssa was so angry she stalked from the room, ran up the stairs, and flung herself into her suite, slamming the door the instant the last echo had crossed the threshold. As was her habit, she released us the second the door was shut, but apparently we didn’t march to our own bedroom quickly enough, for she turned on us with an ungovernable fury. Slapping our faces, tearing at our hair, punching one of the echoes so hard in the stomach that she doubled over, gasping and retching. “Go—go—go!” Elyssa shrieked, pointing at our bedroom door, and we hurried as fast as we could, limping a little, holding our hands to our clawed cheeks. I was the last one through, and I shut the door between us. She was so busy pacing up and down in the sitting room that she didn’t even seem to notice.
Elyssa was furious that Trima wouldn’t be with us to cosset her and cajole her and care for her no matter how badly she behaved. I was terrified that Trima wouldn’t be with us to keep Elyssa somewhat in check. Without the presence of the one person in the household who had the slightest influence over this wild and selfish girl, what might Elyssa do while we were in the royal palace?
CHAPTER EIGHT
We arrived in Camarria on a warm, close afternoon after a tedious but uneventful six-day journey. I had dreaded the prospect of being cooped up in a carriage with Elyssa for such a long time—but not, apparently, as much as she had dreaded the thought. About an hour into the first day of the trip, she ordered the coachman to pull into a small country innyard, and the four of us disembarked. Grooms came running over to offer assistance, but she ignored them, merely awaiting the arrival of the second, much less fancy coach that was carrying the maid and the bulk of our luggage.
As soon as the second vehicle stopped and Gretta stepped down, an inquiring look on her face, Elyssa pointed. “Echoes—go sit in the other coach.” And she released us from our usual thrall.
Gretta, a practical and hardworking woman of middle age, couldn’t hide her surprise. She had been with the household long enough to realize that Elyssa could set us free but not long enough to learn how much Elyssa hated us. “But, my lady,” she said. “Can they be so far from you? Won’t that feel odd?”
“It will feel wonderful,” Elyssa replied. Without another word, she climbed back into the lead carriage and pulled the door tightly shut.
Gretta glanced doubtfully at the three of us, clearly not sure if we were now her responsibility, and if we were, how she should manage us. But our instincts were still to emulate Elyssa, so the three of us needed no instructions from her to climb into the second coach and take our seats. The maid climbed in beside us, still wearing that uncertain expression, and soon we were in motion.
I couldn’t tell if our presence made Gretta uncomfortable or curious. Several times during the next hour, I saw her gaze sweep through the interior of the vehicle as she glanced at the echoes one by one. Once or twice I saw her open her mouth, then close it again and shake her head, but finally she couldn’t resist the urge to speak.
“Everyone says that echoes can’t utter a word,” she remarked. “So if I talk to you, is it better or worse than talking to myself? Don’t suppose it matters because I don’t suppose I can stop myself.”
Indeed, for the rest of the trip, she kept up a random series of observations about the weather, the quality of the roads, and the attractions of the countryside we were passing through. She was entranced by the endless fields of lavender that lined the route through most of our first two days of travel, marveling at their soft, misty color and their sharp, sweet scent.
“That’s where your father gets all his money, you know,” she said. “Owns so many lavender farms he could make a sachet for every woman in Alberta and still have bushels left over. I suppose you’ll inherit all this land once he’s dead.” She glanced at the echoes sitting expressionlessly on the facing bench, and she grimaced. “Well, I don’t suppose you echoes will inherit,” she corrected herself. “But you know what I mean.”
At moments like this, I amused myself by wondering how she would react if I cast off my vacant expression, straightened on my seat, and offered an observation in reply. My guess was that she would shriek in terror and fling herself from the coach, scrabbling to get away. She would most assuredly betray me to Elyssa.
So of course I never said a word. Because Elyssa could never kn
ow.
It was a relief to all of us to arrive in the royal city. Gretta practically hung out the left-hand window, gaping at the sights, so I felt like I could lean over just enough to peer out the right-hand window and get a glimpse of marvels. I knew that Elyssa had been there before, so I must have as well, but I had no memories of the wide, clean streets and varied storefronts and soaring buildings that were ten and twelve stories high.
“I see a bridge— Oh, and there’s another one!” Gretta exclaimed. Over the past six days she had gotten in the habit of talking to us in the careless, familiar way she might speak to a cat or a baby. “They say there are so many bridges in Camarria even Harold can’t count them all, and most of them don’t lead anywhere at all. Just for show! Can you imagine?”
From my vantage point, I had spotted a few bridges as well, built of every material from weathered wood to smooth marble. But I was more interested in the people. They were everywhere! On foot, on horseback, in carriages, stepping out of shop doors, poking their heads out of high windows to call to friends below. Did all of them lead free, independent lives? What could that possibly be like?
I could have spent an entire day driving through the city streets and admiring the views, but soon enough we arrived at the palace, an enormous structure of terra-cotta brick, green tile roof, and black wooden accents. The instant the vehicles came to a halt, I felt a powerful jerk across my entire body as Elyssa bound us to her again and all semblance of volition was lost. The other two echoes and I turned in concert toward the door, causing Gretta to yelp and lean back as we scrambled to exit our coach exactly when Elyssa exited hers.
Servants were already clustered around the vehicles, waiting to help us alight. I managed one quick look around the courtyard, a huge open space crammed with people and noisy with activity. Then a large, majestic, confident woman strode up to Elyssa and said, “Welcome to Camarria. I am Lourdes, the housekeeper, and I will have you shown to your room.”
Nothing about the palace accommodations pleased Elyssa. “I can’t believe this!” she exclaimed the minute the footman left us alone in our quarters. “They’ve just given me one large room with all these beds, and I have to hear the echoes breathing all night. And the walls are an ugly color, don’t you think? That shade of blue makes my skin look gray.”
“Well, I don’t suppose anyone but me will see you standing here against those walls, so it doesn’t matter,” Gretta said.
“It matters because it bothers me,” Elyssa said in a dangerous voice. “And when I feel ugly, I act ugly.”
After that, Gretta prudently kept her mouth shut.
I was just as dismayed as Elyssa that the four of us would be sleeping in four beds lined up in a row, though the echoes’ accommodations were much plainer than the plush, well-padded bed that was clearly designed for a noble guest. I had grown accustomed to my stolen moments of mobility and freedom whenever Elyssa banished us to our own room. It would be difficult to lie still and pretend to be sleeping when Elyssa was so near and so watchful. I was going to have to be very careful while we stayed in the royal city.
But even that couldn’t entirely dampen my excitement at being here.
I wondered how soon we would be seeing Prince Jordan again.
The answer was: that very night.
It turned out that Elyssa was one of the first five guests to arrive, and they were all invited to partake of what was described as “a casual meal in the small dining hall.” Still, five nobles, two princes, and twenty echoes made for a large and unwieldy group, and it took some orchestrating to get us seated at various tables so we could partake of a meal.
Once everyone was in place, I furtively looked around to see who I could identify. There was the self-possessed Prince Cormac, offering his reserved smile impartially to everyone in the room. There was the Pandrean lord named Dezmen who had visited Lord Bentam’s house in the spring. There was an overwhelming and undifferentiated sea of young women in matching blue dresses—a group that I finally figured out consisted of triplets and their nine echoes. While I heard others toss out their names in conversation—Leonora, Lavinia, and Letitia—I couldn’t imagine that anyone tried very hard to tell them apart.
And there was Prince Jordan.
I was most fortunately placed at a table behind Elyssa and a little to one side; if I looked over her shoulder, I could see Jordan sitting across from her. Here in this opulent setting, in contrast to his intense brother and the distinctive Pandrean lord, Jordan looked more like an ordinary man. Handsome but not intimidating, friendly but not fawning, regal but not unapproachable. The ideal man, really.
Elyssa did not appear to share my sentiment. She was perfectly charming to Jordan, but in a way that seemed insincere, even rote. She was seated too far from Cormac to engage in anything but light banter across the table, so she devoted most of her attention to Dezmen, asking him questions about his journey and his family. I hardly knew him well enough to be certain, of course, but I thought his politeness to her was just as insincere as hers to Jordan.
But Jordan, I thought, was genuinely enjoying his interactions with two of the triplets in blue. Listening very hard, I was able to catch scraps of their conversation, enough to determine that the young women were from the far eastern province of Banchura and that they seemed to be frequent visitors to the palace. At any rate, they talked to Jordan with the ease of long friendship, exchanging stories about absent friends and fond memories of past encounters. The sisters seemed to find each other endlessly amusing, for they were constantly breaking into laughter. Jordan smiled more often than he laughed, but he smiled most of the night.
I wondered if he would rather marry one of those sunny-tempered girls than the sullen, scheming Elyssa. Did he have a preference for one of the sisters over the other? From my vantage point, it was hard to tell, though I watched as closely as I could. It was depressing to think that he might already be in love with someone but forced to marry another woman simply because his father insisted. Well, actually, it was depressing to think he might be in love. Though I couldn’t imagine why I would care.
As the meal drew to a close, Cormac came to his feet and everyone followed suit. “I’m afraid I don’t have much entertainment planned for you early arrivals,” he said. “There will be dinners and excursions and balls once the party is complete, but that won’t be for another day or two. We can go sit in one of the drawing rooms and talk some more, but I won’t be offended if anyone just wants to go back up to their rooms and recover from travel.”
“That sounds good,” one of the triplets said, smothering a yawn. “We left at sunrise this morning and I swear I feel every mile we traveled as if I had walked it myself.”
“I’d play cards if you have nothing better to do,” Dezmen said.
“Elyssa?” Cormac said courteously, glancing her way. “If you’re brave enough to be the only woman in a room full of men, we’d be happy to have you join us.”
Her laugh was even more false than it had been most of the evening. “And damage my reputation on my very first night?” she exclaimed with manufactured horror. “Even I am not quite so rebellious as that. No, I’ll be happy to seek an early bed so I am rested for tomorrow.”
Cormac offered a general bow to the ladies as they converged on the door. “Then we’ll see you in the morning.”
It appeared that all the women had rooms on the same floor, so we climbed the stairs together in a great froth of blue accented by Elyssa’s black and gold. After gaily spoken goodnights, all the nobles disappeared into their own rooms, followed by their echoes, and I heard three doors shut down the hall.
Elyssa closed her door with a certain amount of care, perhaps to keep from slamming it, then stood before it in an attitude of silent, hysterical shrieking. Her bunched fists hovered around her cheeks; her face was contorted into an expression of fury, her eyes closed and her full lips drawn back from her clenched teeth. I could only guess that she was furious to be sent back to her room wit
h no entertainment and no occupation, unable to pursue her primary goal of snaring a prince. Something she wasn’t even sure she wanted to do in the first place.
She had released us the second we stepped in from the hall, before she had even shut the door, but I at least was frozen in place. I didn’t want to make the slightest move that might catch her angry attention.
But it scarcely mattered. Elyssa shook her head, opened her eyes, and spun around as if to fling herself toward her bed. Except her echoes stood directly in her path.
“And you!” she hissed, the words just as venomous as if she had screamed them aloud. “Trapped in here all night with you! With all of you!”
And she slapped the nearest echo so hard she sent the creature tumbling to the floor. Whirling around, Elyssa began throwing wild punches at the other echo, then at me, the blows raining down, erratic and hard. None of us made a sound, though it took all my self-control to keep from gasping in pain. When a heavy hit sent the second echo careening to the floor, Elyssa turned on me with a deliberate shove and pushed me right down beside the other two. Then she came to an abrupt stop and caught her breath on a shuddering sob. “What am I going to do?” she cried.
In three steps, she had thrown herself onto her bed and began weeping into the pillow. She kicked her legs and punched the mattress and wailed aloud, trying to muffle the sounds by stuffing the edge of the comforter into her mouth. Sometimes it seemed like she was saying words—I don’t know or It’s not fair—and sometimes it seemed like she was just howling out uncontainable rage. The tantrum lasted a good half hour, and that whole time, the other echoes and I kept our safe positions on the floor.
I didn’t know how long Elyssa could have kept up that display of wretchedness and self-pity, but finally there was a knock and the door opened a couple of inches. “My lady?” Gretta called inside. “The other maids said all the ladies were making an early night of it, but you haven’t rung for me. Do you need me to get you ready for bed?”