Magic Casement (32 page)

Disgusting
he was not.

Five
months! Now she knew better. Older and more mature now, she could see that the
naive child she had been then could have held no real interest for a man of the
world like Andor. But he had taken pity on her and entertained her, cheering
her up. Then, when he had seen the juvenile infatuation he had unwittingly
provoked, he had found a gentle way to end it. The dramatic post-haste flight
into the darkness, the romantic tale of honor and danger-those had been so much
kinder than just saying he had more important things to do now, thank you. He
had known that she would grow up quickly, and then, when she was mature enough
to survive on her own feet-as she now was-then she would see that it had all
been a mirage. And all for the best. The sound of a cough caught her attention
and she looked up to see that the young footman was shifting from one foot to
the other in front of Aunt Kade, while wrestling with the terrifying problem of
awakening a sleeping princess without coughing hard enough to disturb the other
assorted nobility slumped in the nearby chairs.

Probably
the dressmakers had arrived with the gowns for the Springtide ball. Amused,
Inos watched to see how the youth would solve his puzzle. In the romances, the
correct way to tackle that particular assignment was with a kiss; but if he
were to try that in the library at Kinvale, he would very soon find himself
being scorched by the breath of the Dragon Herself.

Even
at that age, she thought, Andor would have gone for the kiss and gotten away
with it.

Then
he glanced frantically around the room, and his eyes caught hers. She took pity
on him and nodded.

As
Andor had taken pity on her. Andor had shown her what she should look for in a
suitor-and perhaps done so deliberately, although he had thereby raised her
standards so high that they might never be satisfied. The rock of Krasnegar was
a tombstone. A man like Andor had all of Pandemia to play in and need not throw
away his life in the barrenlands. A princess had duty and obligations. She must
live out her days on the rock, but to ask anyone else to do so, just for her
sake... For the millionth time, she pondered the ironic truth that a princess
lacked some freedoms a common serf could take for granted.

The
footman arrived before her and bowed. She thought this one was the Gavor her
favorite coiffeuse spoke of, and if half those stories were true then he was
quite a lad. But now he was showing nothing but polite inquiry on a boyishly
pink face.

Inos
resisted a temptation to suggest he try a kiss to awaken Kade. She had learned
now that excessive familiarity merely unsettled domestics; their life was
easier when their place was clearly defined for them. “You can give me
the message, and I’ll see that the princess gets it,” she said.

Gavor,
if that was his name, did not try to hide his relief. “That is most kind
of you, ma’am! Her Grace requests that both you and your aunt attend her,
should it be convenient. “

Not
the Springtide gowns! Inos slammed her book shut with a thump that awoke half
the snoozing peers in the room and she flashed the stupid boy a glare that made
him blush to the ears. He should have come straight to her, instead of doing
all that dithering in front of Aunt Kade-sometimes they just did not seem to
have the brains they were born with! But she rose calmly and said merely, “Thank
you.” She headed for Aunt Kade. Ekka did not enjoy being kept waiting,
and Inos must certainly go around by her own room on the way and brush her
hair.

The
dowager duchess’s boudoir-which Inos thought of as the Unholy of
Unholies-was a tribute to her son’s peerless taste in decor. It was at
once large and light, imposing and intimate. White and gold and powder blue, it
bore a heady scent of grandeur and a glitter of pomp, yet nothing obtruded. The
walls were paneled in silk within white moldings, the furniture shone in white
lacquer trimmed with gilt. Clouds of gauzy lace sheathed the big windows,
although that detail always reminded Inos of spiders’ webs. A cheerful
crackling blaze in the marble fireplace drowned out the sound of rain, keeping
the room uncomfortably warm, soothing old bones.

Following
her aunt in through the door, Inos first saw Ekka herself, straight and
tyrannical on one of the high-backed chairs she favored, with her feet placed
tight together on an embroidered footstool. Her chair was higher than any of
the others, so that she could dominate, as from a throne. One dark-veined hand
rested on her cane, exactly vertical at her side. She wore a high-necked,
long-sleeved gown of shining ivory satin and her white hair was as flawless as
carved and polished marble, incongruous above a dessicated face of weathered
walnut.

Other
chairs were arranged in a semicircle before her. Just rising from one was the
portly duke, immaculate in aquamarine. He looked worried and puzzled, as if
wrestling with some problem, and his drooping lower lip was even wetter than
usual. He could not have been sucking his thumb, could he?

Already
on his feet beside him was the obnoxious Proconsul Yggingi, a hard, curt man in
his forties. Ugh! His hair was cropped so short that his square head seemed
bald, and as usual he was decked out in bronze and leather, from cuirass to
greaves. Dancing with Yggingi was like wrestling a water butt. As usual, too,
he was clutching his helmet under one arm-perhaps he had a deep fear of
earthquakes and did not trust the Kinvale ceilings. Other officers visiting
Kinvale did not wear their uniforms all the time. His wife was rarely seen in
public, a semiinvalid whose existence he ignored while relentlessly pursuing
Inos. His only topics of conversation seemed to be his military career and his
unparalleled success at massacring gnomes in a previous posting. He was so
detestable that even Aunt Kade could rarely find a good word for him.

So
what had provoked this summons? Inos wondered, as she curtsied to the spiteful
old relic on her raised chair, to the ponderous duke, stiffly bowing; curtsying
less deeply to the egregious Yggingi; and there was another man, standing by
the window, looking out at the--

Andor!

The
world stopped.

It
was Andor, really Andor. She knew that godlike profile even as he began to
turn. He was wearing the same blue doublet and white hose he had worn the first
time they met, but now also a long cloak of cobalt velvet trimmed with ermine,
sweeping down to silver-buckled shoes. He turned slowly, to look at her,
ignoring her aunt and everyone else. His dark eyes fixed on her alone. Man as
man should be.

He
was thinner, paler... a terrible ordeal? Disaster, or some superhuman
suffering, bravely borne? And not over yet, perhaps, for there was vast trouble
or sorrow in those unforgettable eyes--none of the bubbling gaiety whose memory
she cherished so dearly.

He
paced over to her, while she attempted a smile of welcome and carefully did not
gawk like a moron. He took her hands and bowed over them. His eyes had already
spoken volumes-regard, pleasure at seeing her... deep sorrow?

Sorrow?

And
finally he said, “My Princess!”

“Sir
Andor!” She could say nothing more. His princess! Oh, yes!

Finally
Andor acknowledged Kade, swooping her a bow.

“Sir
Andor! “ She beamed. “How nice that you can rejoin us! “ And
the old harridan on the high chair had not missed an iota of that reunion, not
a crumb.

“Be
seated, ladies!” she croaked in her thin, antique voice.

Unable
to stop staring at Andor, Inos allowed him to lead her to a chair and then
watched as he walked over to sit opposite her, gracefully swirling his cloak
out of the way as he sat. Kade and the other men had found chairs somewhere.

What
could possibly be so wrong?

“Sir
Andor has brought news for you, Kadolan,” Ekka said.

“For
me, Sir Andor?” Kade was being cautious, her eyes flickering from Andor
to Inos and to the others. For her, that was a strange failure of poise.

“Your
Highness,” Andor said, pulling his gaze from Inos, “I am the
unhappy bearer of grievous tidings. Your royal brother is... is most gravely
ill.”

Inos
heard herself gasp, but Aunt Kade recovered herself at once. Now she knew what
was involved, she registered only polite surprise. “You have come from
Krasnegar, Sir Andor?”

He
bowed his head slightly. “I have. You will wonder why I did not tell you
that it was my destination when I left here, and that omission I must explain to
you at length. But I stayed there until almost Winterfest. When I departed,
your brother was failing fast.”

Father!
Inos clasped her hands tightly and forgot that this was Andor speaking. Oh,
Father!

Andor
glanced at her and then back to Kade. “I have brought a letter from the
learned Doctor Sagorn, but he disclosed its content to me. He does not expect
his Majesty to recover from this affliction. A few months at the most.”
Taking a packet from the pocket of his cloak, he rose and moved over to deliver
it.

Father!
Father! Dying? No! no! no!

Aunt
Kade took the letter and held it out at arm’s length to scan the
inscription. Then she laid it unread on her lap and folded her hands over it,
while Andor swept back to his seat.

“You
think then that we should be prepared to depart on the first ship of spring,
Sir Andor?”

“If
the venerable sage is correct, ma’am, that may not be soon enough.”

The
harsh tones of the graceless Yggingi broke in. “Are you suggesting that
these gentle ladies attempt the journey overland?”

Andor
gave him a long and inscrutable stare. “That must be their own decision,
Excellency. I have known worse journeys.” Worse! Inos thought of all the
horror stories she had heard and shuddered anew. This marvelous Andor could
dismiss that terrible trek so easily?

“Such
as?” Yggingi was scowling at this poised young upstart.

“The
Plain of Bones. Dyre Channel? Anthropophagi frighten me much more than goblins
do. “

“You
met goblins in the forest?”

“Twice.”
Andor spread his hands and smiled. “I prefer not to discuss their habits
in the presence of ladies, but I still have all my fingernails, as you can see.
Childish savages, but quite hospitable. My wrestling was rusty, but apparently
acceptable-a few sprains was all...”

Marvelous
man!

“If
Princess Kadolan decided to venture this journey, Proconsul,” the duchess
asked in her threadbare voice, “could you provide an escort for her?”

The
big soldier regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “I have the troops,
certainly. The worst of the cold is behind us, but it would still be a test of
endurance, even for men. For ladies of quality, it would be a serious ordeal.”

He
stopped and waited.

“It
would certainly be an adventure,” Kade remarked cheerfully. “Inos
and I must discuss it when we have read what the skilled Doctor Sagorn has
written. We shall keep your generous offer in mind, Excellency.”

Inos
found her mouth hanging open and closed it quickly. That her aunt would even
think of such a journey was unthinkable.

“I
am most curious, Sir Andor,” Ekka creaked, “as to why you set out
from here for Krasnegar without informing my sister-in-law or her niece of your
destination. They would have wanted to send letters.” She bared saffron
fangs in a smile that should have frozen his blood.

Andor
acknowledged the point with a token of a nod. “It is not a matter of
pride to me, your Grace.” For a moment handsome young man stared up at
ugly old woman in what seemed strangely like a contest of wills, but then he
continued placidly.

“I
stupidly placed myself in a grievous conflict of honor. It concerned a promise
made to an old friend, one to whom I owe much, a dear friend also of my father’s-”

“I
have forgotten your father’s name and station, Sir Andor.”

“Senator
Endrami, ma’am.”

Inos
resisted a temptation to leap up and cheer. Let them chew on that! An Imperial
senator? No lowly adventurer, Andor, but the son of a senator?

The
duchess granted the score. “I did not forget, then. I had not been
informed. A younger son, I assume?”

“His
eighth.” Andor’s smile could have tamed a clutch of basilisks. “A
much younger son of a much older father. I honor my father’s memory, your
Grace, but I prefer to be judged by whatever I make of my own life, rather than
by his accomplishments. “

Another
point to Andor!

“However,”
he continued, “Doctor Sagorn is an old and dear friend, one who helped me
much in my youth. He, in turn, was indebted to a friend of his, King Holindarn
of Krasnegar, whom he visited last summer, at his invitation. He saw then that
the king was likely dying.”

Father!
Inos gasped and looked at Kade, who avoided her eye. So she had known, or at
least suspected!

Andor
had paused for them to consider his words. He continued, speaking now to Inos. “Sagorn
knew of potions that could ease your father’s suffering, but the
ingredients were not available at Krasnegar. So he returned to the Impire to
collect them, and by then the shipping lanes were closing for the winter. He
asked me, as a favor, if I would escort him back to Krasnegar, for the overland
trail is a long and hard travel at his age. “

Now
Inos understood. She smiled her understanding and gratitude.

Andor,
however, frowned. “It was then that I made my foolish error. He needed
some time to gather his materials and he had mentioned to me that the king’s
daughter was coming to Kinvale. I presumed upon mutual friendships to call and
meet her.” He brought the pouting duke into the conversation with a
glance. “It was sheer nosiness... and I-I lost my heart. “ Inos
felt herself blush scarlet and quickly looked down at her lap.