“She usually is,” Marco said. “What did she say?”
“Oh, merely that men are more prone to violence than women.”
Tayse smiled down at her. “I have seen women on the battlefield who acquitted themselves better than most men.”
Ariane joined them, Kirra tripping along beside her. The marlady said in her astringent way, “There will always be aberrations, and your wife is one of them, but that does not mean they distort the general truth.”
“I
can
fight,” Senneth said. “But I don’t particularly like to. In fact, the older I get, the less I like it.”
“I rather enjoy it, but only if my opponent is truly evil,” Kirra remarked. “Then I can feel justified in taking lioness form and eating his heart.”
“But then, you’re feral,” Tayse said.
She made a face at him. “You might be the finest Rider of your generation,” she said, “but I could probably claw your eyes out.”
“I think we have refuted the proposition,” Senneth said.
Cammon strolled up to their group, smiling widely enough that the topic of death naturally retreated. “It’s so much quieter with the children gone!” he exclaimed. “I felt like I was shouting through the whole meal. But I miss them already.”
“Well, you won’t have to miss them for long,” Ariane said. “I believe Desti and Moro plan to wake you up before sunrise tomorrow to go on some expedition.”
Tayse looked at Cammon with his eyebrows raised. “Here at Rappen Manor, we had not planned to set guards outside your door, but if you want us to—”
Cammon was laughing. “No, I like being plain Uncle Cammon,” he said. “I am enjoying the children so much! I can’t believe how they’ve grown.”
“You should visit more often,” Ariane said. “You and your wife both. It’s not good for you to be immured in that palace. Spend more time traveling Gillengaria.”
Cammon tried to keep his face polite, though he could not help sending accusing looks at Tayse and Senneth. “Our advisors have cautioned us against going too far outside of Ghosenhall,” he said.
“Well, if you want my opinion, I think that staying behind his palace walls so much was one of Baryn’s few mistakes,” Ariane said roundly. “Maybe if he’d been more accessible, there wouldn’t have been so much dissent.”
“I don’t know about that,” Kirra said. “Halchon and Rayson probably would have coveted the throne even if Baryn had come to see them every six months.”
“Maybe,” Ariane conceded. “But I don’t know that Rafe Storian would have joined the rebellion if Baryn had been a more sociable king. I would like to see Amalie travel to every corner of the realm—and do it every year.”
Senneth kept a wary eye on Tayse. “But Ariane, the prime issue is safety. How can we protect her if she’s on the open road—or in a house that offers a poor setup for defense?”
“How can you protect anyone anywhere?” Ariane demanded. “Baryn died right there in his own palace, with Riders on either side of him! I’m not saying you should take foolish chances, but there’s a different sort of risk involved in never letting her out of the city at all. She’s a very lovable girl. Make her a lovable queen, and you will scotch any desire for another war anytime soon.”
“I think that’s very good advice,” Cammon said, beaming.
Tayse offered a smart bow. “The marlady makes an excellent point.”
Kirra seemed to be struck with a marvelous notion. “She can make the summer circuit!” she exclaimed. “Go to all the balls, just like she did three years ago.”
“Oh yes, because there was
never
any excitement or danger when we traveled with her then,” Senneth said.
“Well, she survived just fine, didn’t she?” Ariane demanded. “And the two people who most wished her harm are now dead. It might be a very good idea. Anything to get her out of the palace.”
“I could send for her right now,” Cammon offered. “She could round up a dozen Riders and meet us in Fortunalt.”
“I would rather be present for any expedition that includes the queen,” Tayse said, his voice respectful but unyielding. “Give us time to consider and plan.”
“It’s sounding more and more like she should travel the summer circuit,” said the irrepressible Kirra. “I’ll
have
to join you for that.”
“Bright Mother burn me,” Senneth said with a sigh. “And I swore I would never attend another dress ball.” She cheered up as a thought occurred to her. “Though I don’t suppose I’d have to come along.”
“Of course you would,” Kirra and Cammon said in unison. Kirra added, “I’ll help you pick out your gowns. It will be fun.”
“Aren’t you glad you came to Rappengrass and asked my advice?” Ariane said.
“I don’t actually recall asking it,” Senneth said. “I think you volunteered your opinion.”
Ariane’s broad face was creased with a smug smile. “That’s what mothers-in-law are for. To say the hard truths everyone else is afraid to voice. Now come try one of our new wines. There’s a slight flavor of honey spice to it, imported, of course. Rappengrass would be happy to gift a few bottles to Ghosenhall, especially if you mentioned the vintner. We think very soon it will be all the rage.”
WHEN
the evening was finally over and they were back in their room, Senneth turned to Tayse as soon as the door shut behind them.
“I’m sorry Ariane said it in such a clumsy way,” she said, “but she might have a point.”
He smiled briefly, but behind the expression she could still read two years of buried pain. “Baryn
did
die with Riders on either side of him,” he said. “It was no more than the truth.”
She put her arms around him, leaning for a moment against his broad chest. As always, even when she wasn’t aware of being particularly fatigued, she drew strength from him; she knew that, when he needed it, he could pull energy from her. Together they were a powerful combination. “But Riders kept Amalie safe that same day,” she said. “Can you do so on the road?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I believe we can,” he said. “When they work together, there is very little that Riders cannot do.”
“And you will have mystics beside you,” she said.
He kissed her again. “Ah, then, we will be impossible to defeat.”
Chapter 27
WEN WAS THE FIRST ONE AWAKE IN THE BARRACKS THE
morning after the ball, despite the fact that she was almost certainly the last one to have fallen asleep. Well, there was some possibility that she had not slept at all. She got up and moved silently through the quiet building, pausing in the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Then she sat on a bench outside in the weak dawn sunlight and tried to think.
What had Jasper Paladar meant last night by his warm smile, his pretty waltz, his proxy kiss? He was flirting with her—yes, of course—Wen had had her share of enjoyable encounters over the years, and she knew when a man was sending a certain kind of signal. But to what end? He didn’t seem like the sort to take a tumble with his housemaid, and a soldier was scarcely of a higher social caliber than a servant. Was he only trying to keep her off balance and on edge? Did he seriously hope to seduce her? And then—what? How awkward it would be to accept battle reports from the woman you had just taken to your bed. How strange to discuss with her troop strength and weapons requisitions in the morning if you had been making love the night before.
Of course, he knew that she did not plan to stay much longer. He might think a casual liaison would carry no penalties. She would be gone before he had time to tire of her.
Perhaps he had not even thought it through so methodically. He might simply have been intoxicated by the music, the company, a few glasses of wine. He might have been enflamed, perhaps, by the close embraces with Demaray Coverroe and the other fine ladies—women to whom he could hardly make bold advances without offering some kind of commitment in return. Perhaps he liked the idea of a woman in his bed but not a wife in his house. Someone like Wen would expect nothing from him except a little easy pleasure—the very thing he would hope to get from her. He could satisfy the cravings stirred up by those titled ladies without losing any of his independence.
She sipped her tea. That was not a particularly heartening notion, though she did think it made a great deal of sense. He had been a widower for five years. It would hardly be surprising if, from time to time, he looked for physical companionship. He might not be ready to marry again, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need gratification.
She drained the cup and set it on the bench, resting much of her weight on her hands as she leaned back. Well, she could use a little gratification, too. Since she had left Ghosenhall, she had only taken one man to bed, and they had only spent three nights together. She missed the casual delight of a lover’s touch, the varied and sensual pleasures of intimacy. If Jasper Paladar wanted to invite her to his bed before she left Fortune, she would not refuse.
Though that might not have been what he intended at all. He had called himself her friend—he might have thought his
friend
might appreciate flirtatious attentions designed to make her feel feminine and desirable. For all she knew, he had brushed his lips against Demaray’s cheek or touched his fingertips to some other woman’s mouth, smiling all the while in that private fashion. Perhaps such gestures meant nothing, at least to the nobility, and Wen would be ridiculous to expect Jasper to follow through with any kind of declaration, no matter how informal.
Very well. She would expect nothing, ask for nothing, require nothing. But if he offered her anything, she would take it. She would be leaving Fortunalt soon enough, and if any liaison with the serramarra’s guardian proved to be uncomfortable, she would merely move up her departure date.
But she thought it would be a rare treat to lay her slim body next to Jasper Paladar’s tall one. And she had not had many things to savor in the last two years of her life. She thought she deserved this much, if it was going to come her way.
THERE
was little chance to pursue a romance during the next two days. While most guests had gone straight home after the ball, a few had stayed in Forten City. These were the lords and ladies who lived some distance from the city and were enjoying a chance to shop and dine and visit with friends. Serephette rather begrudgingly invited them back to Fortune for dinner the next two nights, and the men lingered in the library with Jasper long after the meals were over. Wen went by both nights to make a brief report, but she delivered it in the hallway while Jasper stood in the doorway, his attention half on the room behind him.
He did not make her feel like she was being a nuisance, however. Both nights, he seemed pleased to see her and interested in what she had to say. And there was that familiar smile at the back of his eyes. She found herself smiling back, as if at an unstated joke.