Authors: Sharon Shinn
Tags: #Young Adult, #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult, #Adventure
“So, how do you find life at the palace?” Seterre asked finally, her voice artless. “I know it must be very different from what you’re used to.”
“Oh, when I was quite young, my father spent a great deal of time here, and I accompanied him now and then,” Zoe said coolly. Implying,
I am not the bumpkin you think I am, even if my recent life has been very strange.
“I admit the woman finds the life more complicated than the child ever realized, but it is never less than fascinating.”
“I could give you advice anytime you needed it,” Seterre said. “Anytime things become too—complicated. Sometimes all it takes is a simple explanation from someone who understands how things work.”
You are almost the last person I would turn to with questions.
“Yes, I have often thought I needed a source of reliable information,” Zoe replied.
Seterre ate another orange slice. “I wouldn’t turn to Alys for guidance, if I were you,” she said. “She can be—untruthful—at times. She might give you misinformation.”
“Deliberately?”
“I hate to say it, but, yes, deliberately. She thinks it is amusing to see other people stumble or even humiliate themselves.” Seterre shrugged delicately. “I can’t imagine why. Perhaps she thinks it makes
her
appear more clever or elegant by contrast.”
“I suppose.”
“And Elidon—well. She would not misdirect you on purpose, but at times she is not—that is—she is so much older than the rest of us. She is out of step. She does not realize how things have changed.”
This was particularly amusing coming from Seterre, who was probably only ten years younger than the first wife. “Yes, I can see how that might have happened,” Zoe said.
“And Romelle—so adorable!—but so childlike, as you may have noticed. We all love her very much but she is not the steadiest of creatures. She is still finding her way.”
“And yet, she’s
torz
. I would think she would be very levelheaded.”
“Exactly! That’s what you
would
think! But she can be as flighty as an
elay
girl and as unpredictable as a
coru
woman. Not,” she added hastily, “that I would say a word against anyone of water and blood.”
Zoe grinned. “It is hardly an insult to call
coru
women unpredictable. It is part of their charm.”
“I am relieved to hear you say so! At any rate, I just wanted to let you know that I will be glad to help you if you need assistance, and I would never lead you astray.”
“Thank you,” Zoe said. “That is good to know.”
They talked another twenty minutes on topics just as laced with hazards; Zoe was getting a headache from trying to be so careful. She was relieved when a bustle at the door drew their attention that way and Josetta stepped into the room.
“Hello, love,” Seterre greeted her, with what seemed like the first genuine emotion she had shown all afternoon. Josetta gave her mother a quick kiss and Zoe a quick bow. “You remember Zoe Lalindar, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you sit with us for a few moments?” Seterre said. Then adding to Zoe, “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. I was hoping to get a chance to spend more time with the princesses.”
Josetta perched on one of the empty chairs. To Zoe’s eyes, she still looked strained and anxious; this might be a girl who was always a little tense, no matter what the company. Zoe wasn’t particularly skilled at putting other people at ease, but it seemed cruel, in this case, to not even try.
“Did you just come from lessons?” she asked with a smile.
Josetta nodded tightly. “Math and languages.”
“You’re learning a foreign language?” Zoe exclaimed. “Oh, I envy you! Which one?”
Josetta seemed to relax ever so slightly. “Soechin, which is what they speak in Soeche-Tas,” she said. “It’s very hard.”
Zoe remembered that the king had once investigated the notion of marrying a girl from Soeche-Tas; it would be useful if
someone
in the household could communicate with her. But she knew better than to bring up the idea of a fifth wife. “That’s brilliant,” she said. “Isn’t that a nation where your father wants to do more trade? You could become his minister of commerce and negotiate all the contracts. I’d think that would make you very important.”
Josetta relaxed even more as a slight smile came to her face. A lock of her ashy hair had come loose from its precise styling, and she pushed it absently behind her ear. “That would be fun,” she said.
“So, say something to me in Soechin,” Zoe invited.
Josetta responded with a string of sounds and syllables that were impossible to decode. “I said that it was five in the afternoon on a sunny day,” she translated. “I’ve spent a
lot
of time learning how to say things like numbers and days, and I know all the words for weather! So I hope it’s raining or foggy or windy if I ever get a chance to talk to the Soeche-Tas viceroy.”
“Wasn’t he here not too long ago?” Zoe asked.
Seterre nodded. “Yes. There was a parade and all sorts of festivities. The food was so good while he was visiting that we wanted him to stay for a quintile!”
“My father says he might be back in Quinnelay,” Josetta said. “So I’m hoping to be able to talk to him.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Zoe said. “I’ll look forward to the food and the excitement.”
Seterre had another chocolate drop. “Oh, there will be more excitement much sooner than that,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the regatta on changeday. It’s all anyone can talk about.”
“Oh yes! I believe the subject comes up five or six hundred times a day. Will you be a contestant?”
“Yes,” mother and daughter answered simultaneously.
“Will you crew a boat together?” Zoe asked.
Seterre waved a hand. “No, there’s one race for adults and one for children between the ages of ten and seventeen,” she said. “I suppose there are usually about a dozen challengers in the youth race. Corene has one boat, Josetta another, and a few of the boys and girls from the Five Families.”
“All by yourself in a boat on the Marisi River in midwinter?” Zoe said to Josetta. She couldn’t quite keep her disapproval out of her voice. “That might be a little dangerous.”
Josetta seemed pleased rather than offended that someone would bother to worry about her. “No, I have a crew. Corene and I each do—professional sailors who do all the rowing.”
“Do you plan to compete?” Seterre asked. “It always seems a little unfair when a Lalindar is on the water, but now and then someone who is not
coru
does win.”
“I don’t plan to run my own boat, but I have been offered a place in a few others,” Zoe said. “At the moment, I’m leaning toward watching the regatta from a safe, warm place onshore. But of course I’ll attend. It sounds most delightful.”
“I can’t wait,” Josetta said.
A few more exchanges and then a chiming bell announced the hour. Annova had discovered that afternoon visits like this were supposed to last precisely one hour, though the guest was expected to manufacture a reason for leaving. “Oh, I hope you’ll excuse me—I need to send a note to my aunt before dinnertime,” Zoe said, coming to her feet. “I enjoyed this chance to talk.”
“I am certain we will become close friends,” Seterre said. Not close enough to touch hands at the farewell, but that was fine with Zoe. She bowed and exited, extraordinarily relieved to be out of the room.
Similar invitations were extended in the next few days, and she knew she had to accept them all. She was certain the wives were comparing notes about her, discussing what she wore, what she ate, what she brought as an offering. It was exhausting to care about such myriad, petty details, so she didn’t. She let Annova choose her clothing and her hostess gifts and tried to navigate through the charged conversations with as few mistakes as possible.
Alys had a roomful of young women in her suite when Zoe arrived. Their conversation was sharp and pointed, full of sneering remarks about absent friends and falsely sweet compliments to each other.
“But, Gildis! You haven’t told us your news!” Alys said as they all munched on glazed and sugared fruit.
Gildis, a full-figured blond girl who looked all
elay
, instantly showed a wary expression. “My news?” she repeated.
Alys patted her own flat stomach. “When is the baby to be born?”
Gildis’s pale face was instantly red with mortification. “I—no, I’m not—there is no baby—”
“Oh, my
apologies
!” Alys said with exaggerated remorse, while the other women pretended to try to hide their amusement. “How could I have been so gauche? Here, try one of these choco—or, well—would you like more water?”
A few moments later, Gildis left in tears, which even Zoe knew was a strategic defeat. “Silly thing,” Alys said fondly once she was gone. “Who cares if she’s fat? I’m sure that’s not the reason her husband has lost interest in her.”
Zoe deliberately took two more candies and ate them with great relish, smirking at Alys, daring her to make some comment. But Alys merely smiled at her and turned her attention to someone else. It was a decided relief when the hour was over.
During Zoe’s obligatory visit to Romelle’s room, the queen chased after Natalie the entire hour, carrying on such a distracted and disjointed discussion that it hardly taxed Zoe’s conversational abilities at all. They had only one exchange of any interest, when Romelle said, in a scandalized voice, “Did you hear that Gildis Fairley has prevailed on her husband to take her back to the family’s country estates?”
“I don’t know who they are,” Zoe replied. “Oh, wait—I think I met Gildis the other day in Alys’s rooms.”
“Very likely. Alys hates her.”
“Why?”
“Who knows why Alys hates anybody? I always thought Gildis was a very likable girl, though her husband is so stern and surly. Natalie, put that down! Put it down
now
! There was some thought she would marry Wald Dochenza two or three years ago, and I
hear
that the two of them have been seen together whenever he’s in the city. Perhaps she’s been wishing she had married him instead.
I
would be, even though Wald is so peculiar.”
“Why is she going home?”
“She said it was because her mother was sick, but everyone knows it’s because Alys made fun of her in front of all their friends. Natalie! Don’t eat that!”
“That’s the morning I met her.”
“You only saw it happen once, but I’ve seen Alys mock her a dozen times. I suppose Gildis couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Doesn’t anyone ever put Alys in her place? Say something mean right back to her?”
Romelle looked shocked. “She’s a
queen
,” she said. “No one can insult royalty.”
Zoe didn’t speak the thought in her head.
I think I could.
When she was invited to Elidon’s rooms, Zoe found Mirti Serlast there before her—a surprise, but not precisely an unwelcome one. She hadn’t spent enough time with Mirti to form a clear opinion of Darien’s aunt, other than to note that the older woman had strong opinions, an outspoken style, and a no-nonsense manner.
“I thought the two of you might enjoy a chance to get to know each other in a somewhat more intimate venue,” Elidon said. Her private rooms were filled with sunlight and gauzy curtains and streamers hanging from the ceiling that swayed with the gentle currents of the air. Birds twittered and chirped in a large cage made of slim, bent wood. All the birds were yellow or white,
elay
colors, and most of them were tiny.
“Exactly so,” Mirti said, touching her fingers very briefly to Zoe’s. It was enough; Zoe could read in her blood the same chemicals, the same coded patterns, that she could identify in Darien’s. She looked a little like Darien, too, with the familiar narrow face and smoky eyes, though her hair was longer, grayer, and more unruly. Her skin showed every one of her years, Zoe thought, and she obviously didn’t have the patience to put much effort into beautifying her appearance.
This is who I am, stark and unyielding,
she might have been saying.
Love me or hate me, I will not change for you.
It was an attitude that inclined Zoe to like her.
“I appreciate the invitation,” Zoe said.
They sat at a small table covered with a lacy cloth and fragile china painted with butterflies and songbirds. Although the frilly setting didn’t suit Mirti at all, she looked comfortable as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles before her. “So I assume all the other wives have been having you over, filling your head with nonsense,” she said.
“Telling you who to trust and who to avoid and offering to be your best friend,” Elidon added. She poured fruited water into tall glasses and handed them around the table.
Zoe didn’t plan to get tripped up by honesty any more than by intrigue. She was not about to assume she was safe just because these women were refreshingly plainspoken. “Indeed, I have had a chance to spend time with each of them,” Zoe said. “Each visit enjoyable in its own way.”
Mirti grunted. Elidon merely smiled. “It can be tricky for an outsider to understand all the undercurrents at the palace,” Elidon said. “But from what I’ve observed so far, you’ve managed the task gracefully enough.”
Zoe sipped at the water, identifying hints of citrus and something a little sweeter. “I wouldn’t have been an outsider if my father had not lost the king’s trust,” she said in a mild voice.
Mirti flung her head back; Elidon’s eyes narrowed. But Zoe had put no accusation in her voice, so neither could take offense. She went on, still in that light voice, “Or if things had been different between my father and my grandmother. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that there’s no changing the past, only embracing the future. There is only going forward.”
“A
coru
attitude, that’s for certain,” Elidon said, smiling again.
“Well, it is good to have the Lalindar prime back in the city,” Mirti said. “I can already feel the balance righting.”
“All this rain,” Elidon said. “It’s been wonderful.”