Troubled Waters (23 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

Tags: #Young Adult, #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult, #Adventure

BOOK: Troubled Waters
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He smiled suddenly, an expression that unexpectedly warmed his serious face. “It is an ongoing game between Vernon and his wives,” he said. “No man, not even the king, is a match for four women. He is constantly making plans to bring another woman into the household—not because he wants a fifth wife, but because it is something they want even less. Thus, they negotiate. It is a delicate and ongoing dance.”

She made an impatient motion with her hands, as if brushing away rain. “And no doubt it is entertaining for all of you, but why draw me into your game? If you knew the Lalindars would step forward to claim me the minute I reappeared, why even go to the trouble of bringing me back to the city?”

“Because I promised your father that I would.”

She stared at him. Nothing he could have said would have astonished her more. For a moment, she wished they were in any other room—one that offered chairs, for instance—but she stiffened her back and tried to keep amazement off her face.

“I am afraid you will have to explain,” she said, making her voice very cold so that it didn’t shake.

“It was, actually, my father who made the promise,” Darien said. “He and your father had long been allies, and my father did not believe Navarr should have been banished. They remained friends once Navarr left Chialto, and my father promised
yours
that he would fetch you if something happened to Navarr before he regained the king’s favor.” Darien shrugged. “But my father died before yours did. And so the responsibility of looking after you passed to my hands.”

Zoe was trying to remember what Darien had said all that time ago when she had first met him, when she asked if he had known about her father’s death. His reply had been evasive; that was all she could recall. “You never told me how you tracked me down in the village where my father and I lived,” she said slowly.

“I had a letter from your father, telling me he was dying,” he said. “I had hoped to arrive while he was still alive, but he timed his letter very well.”

Her anger had returned. “Do you begin to see the reasons I am inclined to distrust you?” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me who had brought you there, what my inheritance was, how you planned to use me once we arrived in the city? Instead, all your actions are cloaked in secrecy, all your motivations are questionable. Why not simply tell me the truth?”

“You might fling the same question at your father,” he shot back. “He lied to you for ten years or more.
I
merely failed to expose the lies. Direct your anger at Navarr, not me.”

“Oh, there is plenty of anger for both of you,” she said. “You are just closer to hand.”

“Your father was
sweela
. Always thinking, always scheming,” Darien said. “If he concealed things from you, he had a reason—though it might not be a reason you would appreciate.”

“Indeed, and I can guess it very well,” she said. She was so furious that she could not stand still. Again, she embarked on that slow promenade, reaching the corner of the room and turning north, walking along the single solid wall broken only by a door that led to the rest of the house. Again, Darien Serlast turned to watch her as she moved. It was as if she revolved around him, the painted outer border of some dizzy, spinning top; Darien Serlast was the weighted balance at the center, nimble and much less frantic. “He was banished, and he wanted me to be company for him while he was in exile. So he did not tell me a different life was possible. It is no more complex than that.”

“It would take a very selfish man to deny his daughter her birthright only because he could not share it with her.”

“I assure you, my father was just that selfish.”

He studied her as she paced, very slowly, along the wall of windows that showed the autumn mountainside. “And yet, if I am to judge solely by the great grief you showed upon his death, you loved him very much,” Darien said. “He must have loved you extravagantly to earn so much affection from you.”

“He did. He indulged me and challenged me and encouraged me and taught me, and I adored him.
Adored
him. I wouldn’t have left his side no matter what kind of power and position I was offered as Lalindar prime. He knew it—or he
should
have known it. And yet he did not tell me the truth. He did not trust me to choose him over my grandmother. It will be a long time before I will be able to forgive him for that.”

“I hope you forgive me sooner.”

She came to a flat halt and glared at him. “
You
,” she said, “have done nothing but earn my suspicion. And not a word you have spoken today inclines me to begin trusting you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “What can I do to reverse your opinion of me?”

“Can you promise not to lie to me again? To tell me the truth at all times—whether or not I have explicitly asked for it?”

He hesitated a long time and then answered, “No.”

She was surprised into a laugh. “Only a fool would say no to that question, even if he did not intend to keep his word.”

“Only a rogue would lie when he was asked if he would be truthful,” Darien retorted. “And you already think badly enough of me.”

“You have given me no reason to change my mind! You have admitted that you will continue to lie to me!”

“I am in a delicate position,” he said. “I serve King Vernon, and sometimes I must conceal information from almost everyone. I have gotten in the habit of telling the truth only when nothing else will achieve the results I need. That is not admirable, perhaps, but it has enabled me to walk the steps of a very dangerous maze without stumbling into any disasters. I do not see my way clear of the maze at this point. So I do not see my behavior changing anytime soon.”

She was still staring, but now she was more fascinated than furious. “Such an admission makes me wonder just exactly what is transpiring at the palace.”

His smile was a little lopsided. “And well you might. Though I presume it is no worse than the intrigue that plays out at any royal court.”

“I do not like the idea that you feel you can lie to me with impunity, just because your life is complicated,” Zoe said. “Just because you have told me you might.”

His smile grew broader, more genuine. “What about this?” he said. “I will lie when I feel I must. At any time you can
ask
me if I am lying, and if I am, I will confess—though I will not then be compelled to tell you the truth that I am concealing. But you will be able to judge how much you can trust me.”

“Although a liar would lie even about such a bargain,” she pointed out. “So a quintile from now, I might say, ‘Is that the truth?’ and you would say, ‘Yes,’ and I would believe you because
today
you claimed that you would not lie in such a situation.”

He laughed out loud. “That is
sweela
reasoning,” he said. “A
coru
woman would have simply strolled out the door by now. Would already have moved on.”

She caught her breath, for he was right. But her answer was stiff. “A
coru
woman seeks and seeks for passage through an unnavigable space,” she said. “She will rise to any level or turn into any channel. And if you attempt to block her way, she will flood the banks and sweep everything ahead of her. Just because I argue with you today does not mean I will not force my way past you someday when you have tried to throw one too many boulders in my path.”

“I admit, I think that would be an interesting thing to witness.”

“On the contrary. I think you would be sorry that day had come.”

He held his hands out as if in surrender. “The fact that you are even quarreling leads me to hope that you are not so angry you will refuse to return to the city with me. You will make me pay for my perceived sins, but to do that, you must be somewhere in my vicinity.”

He made her want to laugh, and at the same time he made her want to hit him. It was hard to remember that less than a year ago she had passed nearly a nineday in his company and had never been moved to do either.

“I have always planned to return to Chialto,” she said frostily. “Your invitation has no influence on my actions.”

“No, I’m sure it doesn’t,” he said. “But you have not heard the extent of the invitation yet. King Vernon would like you to temporarily take up residence at the palace.”

That made her open her eyes and take a step backward, until she felt the smooth surface of the glass against her spine through the heavy fabric of her robe. “Why?”

“It is common for the primes of the Five Families to keep quarters at the palace so that they may easily come and go,” Darien said. “And it is customary, when a new prime is installed, for that individual to reside at the palace for some period of time. It is not required,” he added. “But it would be much appreciated by the king.”

Zoe frowned. “It sounds awkward and uncomfortable. I am not accustomed to court ways, and I feel certain I would make dozens of social blunders.”

“King Vernon very much wishes that you will take up residence in the palace,” Darien said. His voice was still pleasant, but there was a
hunti
undertone that hinted of intransigence.

Zoe toyed with the idea of resisting, just to test her waywardness against his will, but she thought there would be many battles ahead between the two of them, and it might serve her better to conserve her energy. “What would be required of me?”

“You will join the wives for breakfast, the king and all his guests for dinner, and participate in whatever social activities occur during the duration of your stay. You will have your own apartments, with space for three or four servants, and you may come and go as you please. You would live at the palace merely to promote the notion that the kingdom is, indeed, one family, and that yours is a part of the king’s.”

“Will it be clear to King Vernon—and his wives—that I am no longer in contention to be one of his brides?”

Darien smiled. “It already was, the minute your aunt Sarone publicly named you prime.”

She turned away and began pacing again. “And will you advise me if I seem to be on the verge of a solecism? For if I recall correctly,
you
maintain apartments at the palace as well.”

“I do. And certainly, if I think you are about to make an error, I will try to guide your actions.”

“When would I be expected to make my appearance at the palace?”

“I had hoped to bring you back with me when I leave your estate.”

“Which will be?”

“Tomorrow or the following day.”

“I am not sure I will be ready to leave so soon.”

“Then I await your convenience.”

She stopped abruptly and swung around to face him. “Let us travel down to the temple in town,” she said. “Let us see if this arrangement you propose is, in fact, in my best interests.”

His face was grave again. “Let us do so indeed,” he said. “I am certain you will find that it is.”

 

 

T
he temple in town was scarcely bigger than the
kierten
at Zoe’s house in the village. It had the required five-walled shape, but room for only three benches, which made a triangle around a small covered table in the center of the space. There was no deep barrel here, filled with dozens of each blessing, just a pretty basket with a shallow layer of coins.

“My cousin Keeli tells me that there are only three of every blessing to be found in the basket,” Zoe said with a slight smile. “So perhaps you will pull up something other than a
hunti
trait if you dip your hand in three times.”

“Is that what you wish to do?” he asked. “Pull three blessings?”

“Let me see if I like the first one I draw,” she said. She swirled her fingers through the flat metals disks and picked one. “Change,” she said, showing it to him.

“Does that convince you?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said. “Let me try again.”

Even she was a little unnerved when the second coin she pulled from the basket showed the exact same symbol. Darien said, “The message seems a little difficult to deny.”

She kept both pieces in her fist and pointed at him. “Now you draw one. Let’s see if even here you are showered with nothing but
hunti
blessings.”

He nodded, his expression a bit sardonic, and swept his hand through the metal disks so quickly she was sure he didn’t have the time to feel for any particular glyph. She had never seen him so surprised as when he glanced at the coin he had selected.

“What is it? Let me see,” she demanded, and he wordlessly tilted his hand to show her.

Change.

A shiver went down her back. He was right; the message of the blessings seemed incontrovertible. Not only was her life scheduled for transformation, but Darien Serlast was an inescapable part of that future. The slightest laugh escaped her lips.

“I have to look,” she said. “This won’t take very long.”

Handing her two coins to Darien, she carried the basket to a bench and dumped its contents in her lap. He sat on one of the other benches and watched her, idly turning the blessings over and over in his hand, as she sorted through every other coin in the basket. There were three symbols for triumph, three for talent, three for honor, three for loyalty, three for wealth—three for every single blessing on the list.

No other coin was stamped with the symbol for change. She and Darien Serlast had drawn the only ones.

FIFTEEN

Z
oe supposed she should have expected it to be raining when she made her way down to the river flats. Here in the middle of Quinnasweela, the weather was still generally fine, but there was just enough chill in the air to remind everyone that colder, more miserable days were coming. She had to confess, she was glad she would not be camping on the Marisi when the truly wretched weather moved in.

She was not yet living in the palace, though she had been back in the city for two days. She had told Darien that she needed a little time to organize herself—assemble the rest of her wardrobe, for instance, and engage servants who would accompany her to the palace. Not at all to her surprise, Hoden had refused her invitation to come to Chialto. “I do not leave the house,” he said. “None of us do.”

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