Echo in Amethyst

by Sharon Shinn

  When Elyssa made no answer, Gretta pushed the door open wider. “My lady? Do you— Now, what’s all this?”

  Obviously, she had looked in just enough to see the echoes curled up on the floor. I heard her gasp, felt her hesitate and wish she could run back down the hall, but then heard her take a deep breath as she realized she was the one who had to deal with the situation. She came inside, shut the door firmly, and stepped around the three of us as if we weren’t even there.

  Elyssa had stopped her wailing and now lay facedown on the bed, panting, still dressed in her finery and jewels. Gretta approached slowly, making a slight tsking sound, and looking like she wished she could be anywhere else in the kingdom.

  “Well. Let’s get that dress off of you so you can wash your face and get comfortable,” Gretta said. “Can you stand up? There you go—I’ll help you. That’s good. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

  In an admirably short period of time, Gretta had Elyssa undressed, in a nightshirt, and under the covers. I could sense Elyssa’s exhaustion, and I guessed it wouldn’t be too long before she was asleep. Gretta had drawn the same conclusion.

  “I’ll undress the echoes, then I’ll put out the lights and you can just fall right to sleep, doesn’t that sound good?” the maid asked, turning toward the three of us. By this time we had pushed ourselves to sitting positions, though we hadn’t had the courage to stand.

  Elyssa stirred restlessly on the bed. “No,” she said. Then, more forcefully, “No.”

  Gretta looked back at her uncertainly. “No what?”

  “I don’t want them. In here. With me.”

  Gretta looked helplessly between Elyssa and us. “But they— Where else can they go?”

  “Put them in the hall.”

  “My lady, you can’t—they can’t—someone will see them there—”

  “Nobody will. Everyone’s in bed,” she said with much bitterness.

  “But one of the footmen, checking the house to make sure all is secure—or a maid, in the morning, coming around to build the fires—”

  “I don’t care what some stupid housemaid thinks!”

  “One of the young noblewomen staying down the hall, then. If one of them gets up in the middle of the night for some reason! What would she think? What would she say—to Prince Cormac, perhaps?”

  Elyssa started crying again, a quieter, more helpless kind of weeping this time. “I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t want them here with me! Staring at me at all night!”

  “My lady, I don’t think—”

  “Put them somewhere!”

  Gretta glanced around the room, looking for inspiration. Although it was not nearly as large as Elyssa’s suite back home, it was spacious enough and nicely laid out. The four beds were against one wall; a cluster of chairs and tables made a small sitting nook in front of the windows; and two armoires, a vanity, and a large chest of drawers created a dressing room of sorts.

  “Well, let’s see. I could move some furniture around and make a little corral, maybe. Would that work?” Gretta asked, seeming to think out loud. “I could turn these two tables on their sides—and then open one of the armoire doors and drape a sheet over the back of a chair … and if we just put blankets on the floor for the echoes to lie on— Why, I don’t think you’d see them at all!”

  Sniffling and swiping at the tears on her cheeks, Elyssa flounced over in bed, staring at the wall. “Do it! Do something! I can’t stand to look at them.”

  Gretta shook her head and gave the echoes a sharp look. “I don’t suppose you could help me organize your pallets for the night, could you?” she asked, sighing when none of us responded. “No, and what the maid will think in the morning I have no idea. I’ll just have to be the first one here so I can put everything back in place. No sleeping in for you, Gretta, that’s for sure!”

  She was efficient, though, and created a cramped, private sleeping area for the echoes within a surprisingly short period of time. With equal efficiency, she undressed us for the night and herded us onto our pallets on the floor.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll be very comfortable—but I don’t suppose echoes even feel discomfort, do they? Still, I’ll see if I can think of something better in the morning.”

  Within a few moments, she was gone, leaving the room in darkness and near-perfect silence. The only sound I could hear was Elyssa’s ragged breathing, which quickly smoothed out enough to convince me she was sleeping. Beside me, the echoes were so quiet that I had to suspend my own breathing to be sure they were still alive.

  It was a perilous start to our adventure in the royal palace, and I couldn’t help but wonder what other disasters might accrue. No Hodia, no Trima, no one to make sure Elyssa behaved, and Elyssa unhappy already for so many reasons. It did not seem like a good time to be wholly at her mercy.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Our second day in Camarria was much better than the first. Although Elyssa was sulky and silent when she first woke, she responded positively to Gretta’s good cheer when the maid arrived in the morning to get us ready for the day. Gretta worked with her usual quick competence, and it wasn’t long before the four of us were out the door, heading downstairs in search of breakfast.

  The first few hours unfolded much as the previous day had, with various nobles gathering in dining halls and sitting rooms to talk and flirt and pass the time. The only difference was that, every few hours, we were joined by some new arrival and his or her attendant echoes. By dinnertime, I thought there were perhaps twenty originals in the room and somewhere around fifty echoes. We had been moved to a very large dining hall, where the servants engaged in an elaborate choreography of serving all the echoes at the exact same time they served the nobles. It was an impressive feat.

  As Cormac announced that he would lead the group to yet another sitting room for the evening, Elyssa was approached by a footman dressed in palace livery.

  “My lady,” he said. “The queen has requested a moment of your time.”

  By the way my own mouth smiled in response, I could tell Elyssa was delighted at the invitation. “The queen,” she repeated, loudly enough to be overhead by one of the Banchura triplets sitting nearby. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

  We followed the servant through the wide, airy halls of the palace. I knew absolutely nothing about art or decor, but I admired the paintings, the statuary, the woven tapestries gracing the walls and alcoves as we passed. There was simply so much wealth and artistry on display.

  We found the queen in a small sitting room filled with delicate chairs and small settees and spindly tables that looked like they wouldn’t hold anything weightier than a teacup. She did not glance up when we first arrived, but kept her attention on a piece of linen she was embroidering within a square wooden frame. About half of it appeared to be already completed, showing a scene of cottages and roses along a country lane. Behind her in three identical seats, her echoes held identical poses, their fingers just as deftly plying their needles. But whereas the queen was working in red thread on a half-finished image, the needles of the echoes were empty and their scraps of linen completely blank.

  The footman had spoken Elyssa’s name, backed out of the room, and closed the door before Queen Tabitha finally knotted her thread and looked up. Elyssa, not known for her patience, stood all that time in respectful silence. They took a moment to survey each other.

  The queen had deep auburn hair, braided back with wide green ribbon in a style meant to look both casual and elegant. Her features were clear-cut and fine, her skin a pale rose, but her expression was so cold and composed that I wouldn’t have called her pretty. The word was too soft for her. There didn’t appear to be anything soft about this woman at all.

  “Elyssa,” she said, inclining her head.

  Elyssa dropped into a curtsey so low that her chin almost touched her knees. We had practiced this many times, or I thought I might have fallen over. “Majesty,” she said as we all rose with creditable grace.


  Tabitha gestured. “Sit down for a few moments and we’ll talk.”

  Elyssa sank into the nearest of those delicate chairs, and the echoes and I arranged ourselves behind her. We moved in absolute synchronization; this was obviously not the time for Elyssa to be unconventional. “It is good to see you again,” Elyssa said.

  “How was your journey? My husband insists that some goodly portion of the annual taxes go to the upkeep of the Charamon Road, so I hope you found it in excellent repair.”

  “Yes, the whole trip was trouble-free.”

  “Harold will be glad to hear it.”

  There was a short silence as the queen measured out a length of green thread, cut it, and expertly inserted it through the eye of the needle. Then she spoke again, “I understand that my stepson visited you a couple of weeks ago, and there was some unpleasantness.”

  Elyssa’s voice was amused. “Cormac? Unpleasant? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that side of him.”

  “No, Cormac knows very well how to appear most agreeable,” Tabitha replied, slightly stressing the word appear. “I was referring to Jamison. Harold’s oldest son.”

  “Oh! Yes, there was a minor incident. A local woman joined us for dinner one night, and apparently Jamison made her uncomfortable. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

  Tabitha carefully wound the thread around the needle to create some kind of complicated knot. “I’m sure he did. Jamison has long indulged himself in behaviors that his father and his brothers regrettably make no effort to check.” She glanced up, briefly meeting Elyssa’s eyes. Her own eyes were a deep and complex green. Her voice was expressionless when she added, “We love him anyway, of course.”

  “Of course,” Elyssa repeated. “I believe Cormac insisted he stay behind a day or two to make reparations. So his behavior did not go entirely unremarked.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” the queen said. “And Jordan? I understand he, too, has recently made his way to Alberta.”

  “Yes, we have been honored to have been shown so much favor by the royal family.”

  Tabitha set a few more stitches. “Of course, you realize there is talk of much greater honor that might be shown your father’s house.”

  “I hear rumors,” Elyssa said, her voice as calm as Tabitha’s. “Naturally, I am ready to do anything that would benefit the kingdom. But I have no particular expectations.”

  “I have found that, when it comes to Harold’s sons, it is wise to have no expectations,” Tabitha agreed. “They are stubborn and contrary when it suits them, and Harold indulges them entirely too much. Cormac can generally be made to see reason, but none of them is biddable. Not like my daughter, who has always allowed herself to be guided by me.”

  “Princess Annery is lucky to have always had you in her life,” Elyssa said. “My own mother died when I was young, and I have always felt that loss.”

  “The princes, sadly, were not interested in any mothering I could provide, and they rarely seek my advice,” Tabitha said. “But in this instance, my husband and I are in agreement. It would be in the best interests of the kingdom if Camarria were to align with Alberta. You are the most eligible young woman in Alberta. The circumstances seem unambiguous—and yet neither my husband nor Jordan is ready to make any kind of formal overture. Thus you are left in a somewhat unenviable position.”

  Elyssa’s breath was coming a little faster. Tabitha’s words made it clear that a royal wedding could be in Elyssa’s future—and yet it wasn’t. Not yet. But her voice was still composed as she answered, “What do you mean?”

  Tabitha snipped off the green thread and began searching through the embroidery silks for another color, settling on gold. “You must behave like a woman affianced to a prince without actually having that prince paying court to you,” she said. “You must dance and flirt like any unattached woman, and yet never raise the hopes of the other men in your circle. In other words, your behavior must be irreproachable—fit for a princess—even though you have no guarantee of ever holding that position. I admit, it can be difficult.”

  I thought Elyssa’s smile was a little strained, but her voice was perfectly smooth. “But, Majesty, I flatter myself that my behavior has always been beyond reproach.”

  Tabitha knotted her new piece of thread and inserted the needle through the back of the linen. “I am certain that is the case,” she replied, in a voice that made it clear she was anything but certain. “But as a woman who grew up in the countryside—much like you, in fact—I know how easy it is to spend a few unsupervised hours on the grounds of a large rural manor surrounded by fields and gardens. In a city such as Camarria, you will find that there is always someone watching you. Your most innocent excursion—or your most clandestine one—is sure to be witnessed by a maid or a shopkeeper or a low noble or a friend. All of them, you will find, are willing to carry tales if they believe there will be the smallest benefit to them to do so.” Tabitha briefly raised her green eyes from her canvas to give Elyssa a single unreadable look. “Even if their only benefit is to see you suffer the slightest discomfort merely because they do not like you.”

  Every muscle in my own body was rigid with anger, so I knew Elyssa was seething. But when she answered, her voice was still light and unconcerned. “Your Majesty sounds as if you speak from bitter experience.”

  Tabitha did not seem offended. “I learned very quickly that Camarria is not Empara,” she said. “I thought you might appreciate gaining the knowledge without having to undergo the lesson.”

  “Indeed,” said Elyssa. “I treasure any advice Your Majesty can offer.”

  There was a soft knock, but Tabitha did not immediately bid the visitor to enter. “I realize you have been to Camarria many times, yet parts of it might still remain unfamiliar to you,” she pursued. “It might be useful for you to know whom you might count on if you have questions about the city, so I thought you should meet Harold’s head inquisitor. There is nothing that happens in the royal city that he does not instantly learn about. He has proved to be an invaluable resource to me.”

  “I understand,” Elyssa said, in a tone that made it clear she did. Tabitha had essentially said, You must behave with absolute circumspection, and if you don’t, here is the man who will catch you in your misdeeds. Even the insensate echoes had probably caught the queen’s blunt implication.

  “Good,” said Tabitha, and then raised her voice to call, “Come in!”

  The man who entered should have been wholly unremarkable. He was of medium height, stockily built, bald, and possessed no physical characteristics that would set him apart in a crowd. And yet something about his bearing was filled with such latent menace that had I been sitting somewhere by myself when he walked by, I would have recoiled in alarm. I thought it was no wonder that Elyssa’s whole body corded with stress, though she managed to retain a serene expression, as did all her echoes. We gave him only the slightest nod of acknowledgment, as if he were a tradesman who was about to perform a useful service.

  “Malachi, this is Lady Elyssa, the noblewoman from Alberta you have heard my husband and me talking about. We consider her quite precious and would like you to take special care to keep her safe while she is visiting. Elyssa, this is Malachi Burken, head inquisitor for Camarria. He has been in royal service for more than twenty years, and has done an exemplary job.”

  Malachi bowed, not quite as low as I would have expected, and trained his dark eyes on Elyssa. “I will guard her most assiduously, my queen.” It was clearly a threat as much as a promise.

  “I always appreciate extra attention,” Elyssa drawled.

  “Malachi is an Empara man,” the queen went on with a touch of pride. “And wholly to be trusted.”

  “Thank you, Majesty,” he said quietly. A moment longer his gaze held on Elyssa’s face, and then he shifted his eyes to look at each of her echoes in turn. Who notices echoes? The head inquisitor of Camarria, apparently. But we were all copying Elyssa so exactly that he found nothing of interest in our f
aces, so he turned back to the queen. “Is there anything else you need from me?” he asked.

  She waved a negligent hand. “I don’t think so. Thank you for your prompt attention.”

  He bowed again and let himself out. The queen was sorting through her packets of embroidery thread again. “I believe we’ve covered everything I wanted to discuss with you,” she said in a tone that was obviously a dismissal. “I do hope you enjoy the rest of your time in Camarria.”

  Elyssa rose gracefully to her feet and repeated her deep curtsey. “Majesty,” she said, “it becomes more interesting by the hour.”

  Elyssa’s interview with the queen had left her so ruffled that I was apprehensive about how she might treat her echoes once we returned to her room. Fortunately, a few of the prince’s guests had gathered in one of the many sitting rooms, and someone called out to Elyssa as we stalked by. She had to force a smile as she stepped into the room, but during the next hour, between the wine and the banter, her mood lifted and her natural confidence returned.

  I felt my dread flood back as we finally made our way upstairs to our bedroom, but I found that Gretta had been busy all day on Elyssa’s behalf.

  She greeted us as soon as we crossed the threshold, saying, “Look, my lady, I’ve procured a nice folding screen to create a sort of dividing wall. I told the housekeeper that you can’t sleep without something to block out every breeze and bit of light, and she had this sent right up. I’ve arranged it around the echoes’ beds to make a tiny little room for them.”

  Elyssa approached the screen to run her hand down its smooth panels. It was made of dark wood, very plain, with no embossing or decoration, and it was quite sizable. Each of its five panels was probably six feet high and four feet wide. You could practically hide an army of echoes behind it.

  “Thank you, Gretta,” she said, smiling in satisfaction. I wondered if it was the first time I had ever heard her thank someone and mean it. “That was clever of you. Now I won’t have to look at them at all.”