by Sharon Shinn
She moved toward the door, the three of us silently following. “I have seen enough in Camarria on this visit,” she said. “I want change, too.” Her hand on the door, she paused to look back at her father. “Include me in your councils and your secret meetings,” she said. “I can be an ally to you.”
She waited for him to respond, but he said nothing, merely watched her for a long moment. She shrugged and led us from the room.
But after that, Bentam did start inviting Elyssa to join him when some of his less savory friends dropped by at odd hours, usually when the rest of the household was in bed. Mostly she sat quietly on one side of the room and merely listened, but now and then she volunteered information about a particular lord or noble family. I don’t think that house would join an uprising—his daughter is set to marry a noble from Sammerly, and they’re all loyal to the crown. Everyone seemed to find her bits of knowledge valuable.
During these late-night councils, we heard news about shocking acts of violence. The governor of Orenza, Lord Garvin, had indeed assembled a band of reckless fighters, and they began harrying any travelers who had ties to the king or his allies. A small band of royal guards traveling north along the Charamon Road had mysteriously disappeared; a merchant caravan from Banchura had been raided, all the contents of its carts and wagons either confiscated or scattered in the dirt. A wall of guards had gone up around Orenza’s capital city of Oberton, and anyone wearing royal livery risked his life if he tried to cross that border.
Things were almost as unsettled in Alberta, where half the nobles were enraged at King Harold’s cavalier execution of Marguerite, and half were eager to keep the peace between the province and the crown. Some of Bentam’s late-night visitors whispered accounts of bloody skirmishes that had occurred between men recruited by rebel lords and soldiers from the houses of nobles who were loyal to the king. And one messenger wearing palace livery was found murdered outside a tavern in a town not far from Lord Bentam’s mansion. No one ever discovered who had brought him down.
Elyssa listened to all the tales with cool dispassion, seeming unalarmed by brutality and unimpressed by bravado. “It does us no good to fight with each other,” she said on more than one occasion. “You will never overthrow the king if all the lords don’t work together.”
“Maybe not,” someone snarled once in reply. “But we’ll show him we’re not afraid to take drastic measures.” And the stories and the arguments would go on.
As for myself, I felt sick and powerless as I listened to their plots and their plans. I could understand the rebels’ desire to free themselves from the king’s influence—after all, I myself was desperate to separate myself from an unfair master—but I didn’t understand why such a step required so much violence. I came to dread these midnight sessions—though I dreaded just as much the long days in between clandestine meetings, when no new information came in and I had no idea if anyone in the royal family had been harmed in the interim. So even though I hated waking up in the middle of the night and hastily dressing and hurrying down to Bentam’s study, I would have gone even if I had been able to resist Elyssa’s compulsion.
She hurried eagerly to each secret meeting, racing down the stairs and through the hallways so quickly she was almost breathless upon her arrival. And then we would enter the room and she would look swiftly around and her excitement would falter and die. It didn’t take me long to realize she was hoping, every time she opened the door to her father’s study, that Marco Ross would be on the other side. But we had been back from Camarria for two months now, and so far he had not joined any of her father’s councils.
I didn’t believe he had written to her, and no one had mentioned his name within my hearing. I wondered if she was too proud to ask her father for news, or afraid to let him know how much she cared about the man. Marco was a landless rebel with nothing to recommend him but his passion. If Bentam knew about their affection for each other, he probably would ensure that they never saw each other again.
I would have felt sorry for her, except I hated her. And I hated Marco. And I lived in terror of how one of them might harm Jordan. So I was glad, in a petty and spiteful way, when the weeks passed and there was only silence from Marco.
As that second month came to a close, we did receive news from the palace from an unexpected source. We were at dinner one night when Hodia held up a note she had received that afternoon.
“A low noble from Banchura will be passing through Alberta on his way to Orenza and wonders if he can stop here for the night,” she announced. “He says he is an importer with contacts in Ferrenlea, and he is looking to expand his markets in the western provinces. In fact, he brings with him a Ferrenlese man who can talk knowledgeably about the opportunities overseas.”
The topic could hardly have interested Elyssa less, so she didn’t even lift her eyes from her plate, but a look of speculation crossed Bentam’s face. “Ferrenlea,” he repeated. “I’ve often wondered if there might be a market for lavender over there. When did he want to come?”
“In five or six days. It seems he is in Pandrea now, traveling with his nephew and this foreigner.” She scanned the letter again. “Apparently someone in his family married above his station, for his nephew has three echoes.”
That did cause Elyssa to glance up, malicious amusement on her face. “How did he find a way to work that information into a note, I wonder? ‘I’m a low noble, so I’m hardly worth your notice, but my nephew has so many echoes that any lord would be happy to receive me.’”
Hodia laid the paper aside. “He was a little less clumsy than that. He merely noted that, if we agreed to house his party for a night or two, his nephew would require a room with four beds.”
“Oh, that is clever. I applaud that,” Elyssa said. “Did he mention his nephew’s name? Perhaps I met him in Camarria.”
“Deryk,” Hodia said.
“Deryk!” Elyssa repeated, showing the first signs of real pleasure she had exhibited in weeks. “Oh, do let them come! He’s one of my favorites.”
“I don’t see any reason not to allow the visit,” Bentam decided. “They might prove to be valuable contacts for me.”
“Excellent,” Hodia said. “I’ll write him in the morning.”
Deryk, his uncle Norbert, and a Ferrenlese man showed up five days later, riding in a carriage fine enough to catch Bentam’s attention. It was clear Bentam was thinking that if this was what overseas trade could buy for a low noble, a high noble might make a fortune from such commerce.
Hodia and Elyssa had planned a couple of social events for the visit, which was supposed to last two days, but this first night there was no one at dinner but family members and guests. The six of them sat together at a compact table loaded with candles, silver serving dishes, and gleaming white china; their collected ten echoes were arranged in a ring around them, sitting at much plainer tables and making do with the faint illumination that filtered back from the tapers in the center of the room. It was so dark I could barely see Elyssa’s echoes on either side of me, and I certainly couldn’t see Deryk’s across the room.
But I could see Deryk’s face, and that was enough. Here in his uncle’s company, he comported himself with more restraint than usual, drinking moderately and refraining from scandalous conversation. I thought there was very little family resemblance between them, for Norbert seemed to be a quiet and thoughtful man with a serious turn of mind.
I had an even better view of the Ferrenlese man, and I watched him with some curiosity. He was short and small-boned, with silver hair, shrewd eyes and a ready laugh. He spoke our language flawlessly, but with a heavy accent that lent a delightful flourish to even the most mundane utterances. Norbert and Deryk treated him with some deference, Hodia and Bentam with practiced courtesy. Elyssa smiled at him from time to time, but otherwise made no effort with him whatsoever. He was neither a titled lord nor a passionate revolutionary, so he held no interest for her.
Hodia made sure no one discusse
d business over the meal, so instead they labored through talk of the weather and the roads. When the meal finally came to a close, the three older men withdrew to talk commerce, while Hodia joined Elyssa and Deryk in one of the parlors. Hodia seemed to be there only for the sake of propriety because she took a chair on one side of the room and picked up a novel, and for the next two hours she never once looked over at Elyssa and Deryk.
The two of them instantly dropped to a small love seat and put their heads together. “Tell me everything,” Elyssa demanded in a voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve heard hardly any news out of Camarria, and I can’t stand it.”
“You knew that someone tried to kill Cormac, of course?”
“Yes, that much information has found its way even to the backwaters of Alberta! But does anyone know why? Or who? Or—anything?”
Deryk gave her a meaningful glance. “I would think someone from the western provinces might be able to answer those questions better than I could,” he said.
She affected exaggerated surprise. “Oh! So they think the attacker was part of some rebel plot, and not a lone malcontent who hates the king?”
“I think that in Camarria these days, they believe everyone who hates the king is part of some rebel plot,” he corrected her. “But since they’ve never discovered who the would-be assassin was, they can’t be sure.”
“Poor Cormac! Is he very afraid? Hiding in the palace?”
“On the contrary, he’s been very visible. I’m not his greatest admirer, as you know, but he’s appeared quite brave.”
“How long did everyone else stay after I left?”
“Only a couple of days. After Marguerite’s death—” He gave a dramatic shudder. “Most of the women cleared out the next morning. Darrily even said to Cormac, ‘Good luck finding a bride now.’”
“Oh, I have to think little Vivienne of Thelleron would be willing to forgive Cormac anything,” Elyssa said.
“She did stay,” Deryk said. “Or at least, she was still there a day later when I drove off.”
“So do you think their engagement is back on?”
“That would be my guess, but there’s been no announcement.”
Elyssa sank back against the cushions. “Well, good,” she said. “It appears I didn’t miss too much by leaving so suddenly. I suppose everyone gossiped about me after I was gone.”
“There was a little talk,” Deryk admitted. “But Tabitha said you had received urgent news from home. And at that point, we were all plotting our own hasty departures, so no one wondered too much about yours.”
“Ah. Of course,” she said.
He gave her an arch look. “So what did happen? Since I would have thought nothing would send you scurrying back home except news of your father’s death—and he appears to be very much alive.”
She smiled, put a finger to her lips, and shook her head. “I’m not allowed to say. Though I promise you, it was very exciting! But I did regret having to leave so abruptly, and I’m glad to hear that no one thinks too badly of me.”
“Not even Jordan,” Deryk said. “And I never thought he was that fond of you, to tell you the truth.”
Elyssa just looked at him. “You and Jordan were talking about me?” she said finally.
“Oh, nothing like that. But before I left, I had a chance to make a formal goodbye to the whole royal family. Harold asked what my plans were, and I said I would be traveling through the western provinces with my uncle. Tabitha said that if I saw you, I should tell you she sent her best wishes for your father’s health. Then Jordan said he hoped you—” Deryk paused and wrinkled his forehead, trying to get the wording just right. “Jordan said he hoped that you remember your interesting conversations and that you will have a chance to dance together again soon. Or something like that.” He smoothed his expression and smiled at her. “So I think maybe he likes you better than I thought.”
I could sense Elyssa’s mixed and chaotic emotions. She considered herself a rebel now, so she wanted to feel disdain at the notion that anyone in the royal family might harbor a fondness for her. Yet there was still a shallow, greedy part of her soul that would always covet the status and prestige of marrying a prince. But her astonishment, gratification, and uncertainty were nothing compared to the turmoil in my own head. My veins ran with silver heat; my hands curled with sudden chill.
Jordan said he hoped that you remember your interesting conversations and that you will have a chance to dance together again soon.
That was surely a message for me, not Elyssa. He had not forgotten me. And he would try to find a way to be with me again.
No other moment during Deryk’s visit was as exciting or memorable as that one, as far as I was concerned, although there were a couple of other interesting exchanges. One occurred the following morning, when the Ferrenlese visitor happened to take a seat next to Elyssa at the breakfast table.
He produced his easy smile and said in his charming accent, “You must forgive me, but in all the introductions last night, I could not perfectly catch your name.”
“Elyssa,” she said, giving him a perfunctory smile.
“Alista?” the man tried.
“No. Elyssa.”
“Ah. It sounds very much like a word we have in Ferrenlea,” he answered. “Amelista.”
“That’s pretty.”
“Indeed! The prettiest word in the whole language!”
“What does it mean?”
His small hand traced an uncertain gesture in the air. “It is hard to define. It means I see you and you see me. We are each of us whole because the other exists. It is a word of profound connection.”
I could tell Elyssa had already lost interest. “Indeed. I don’t believe any such word can be found here in our kingdom.”
“No,” he said regretfully. “I have traveled to five other nations and nowhere found a similar concept. It is hard sometimes to do business with people who do not think the same way.”
“I generally find no one thinks the way I do, but it doesn’t really bother me,” Elyssa said sweetly.
The Ferrenlese man looked so taken aback that he couldn’t think of a reply. Elyssa gave him a polite nod and turned all her attention to Deryk, who had dropped onto the seat on her other side. As far as I could tell, she didn’t speak to the man one more time during breakfast—or the rest of his visit.
That night, a dozen or so local nobles were invited for dinner. Some of the older ones withdrew immediately after the meal to discuss how well their lavender products might sell in Ferrenlea, but the younger visitors instantly began organizing card games and impromptu dancing. Deryk and Elyssa spent much of the time paired up as dance partners, mostly so they could whisper about everyone else in attendance.
“I’m sorry you’ll be leaving in the morning,” she said, when they had exhausted their store of malice. “And you must be sorry, too! Your travel companions seem very dull.”
“I pray nightly that the triple goddess spares me any more contact with people from Ferrenlea,” Deryk said, “but my uncle is far more interesting than he might at first appear.”
“You must tell me what you mean by that.”
“He’s not simply a merchant trying to set up shipping lines. He’s here on behalf of the king, trying to broker peace between provinces. From here we go on to Empara, and then Orenza.”
“You’d best be careful for your life then,” Elyssa replied. “My father says Lord Garvin will never forgive the king for Marguerite’s death. And I am not exaggerating when I say envoys have been murdered outright at the Orenza border.”
“My uncle knows. But he’s hopeful. His reception here in Alberta has been warmer than he expected, and your father has agreed to talk with some of his other compatriots. No one wants bloodshed, after all. If there is a way to solve problems through commerce, that’s a better answer than war.”
“Listen to you!” she exclaimed. “My shallow Deryk, talking policy! I never would have believed it.”
&nbs
p; He swung her in an energetic circle; I was practically lifted off my feet by the enthusiasm of his echo. “But, my dear,” he drawled, “people tend to let down their guard when they think you’re nothing but a fop and gossip. They’re careless about what they say. You would not believe some of the secrets I have learned.”
Now she stared up at him in silence, perhaps reviewing any offhand remarks she might have made that could have compromised her father. I myself found it hard to believe that the frivolous Deryk was a spy for the king, but it did make me wonder how many people at the court—how many people in the kingdom—were keeping secrets. Presenting false faces to the world. Living lives entirely contrary to appearances. Most of them, I decided.
Deryk laughed at the expression on her face. “Oh, not you, my sweet!” he said. “You’re far too clever to give anything away. Besides, what lies could you possibly be hiding in your cold little heart?”
She smiled back, but I thought it took her some effort. “I am relieved to hear it! And most pleased to hear that the king is negotiating for peace. I’d hate to think of you cut down by Orenza soldiers and bleeding out on the hard ground.”
“I’d ruin my waistcoat,” he agreed.
She freed one hand to tap his forehead, right above the scar through his eyebrow. “And mar your pretty face.”
He recaptured her hand, kissed it briefly, then returned to the proper dancing pose. I could feel the moist imprint of the echo’s kiss against my skin. “We are both shallow,” he said. “And both so much more than we appear.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Life was frankly boring once Deryk and his uncle departed, but boring was fine with me. I had had enough excitement for a lifetime. My days were even quieter than before because Elyssa had developed the habit of leaving her echoes behind whenever there was no one in the house but family. Hodia didn’t like it, and protested strongly, but Elyssa merely shrugged. She did agree to always have us in her train when anyone else, no matter how insignificant, was visiting the manor, but there were many days when that did not apply.