her instruments 02 - rose point (36 page)

He flashed her a sudden, surprising smile over his shoulder, so candid it made her heart flutter. “I’m glad I did.” Before she could ask, he finished, “No doubt some will find your very presence presumptuous. Your manner of dress will only serve as punctuation to that sentence. The rest of us will find it quite appropriate.” They gained the ground floor and swept through one of the echoingly empty halls, and the further they went the more a vague buzzing sound began to fill it. “Do not fear, Lady. You will acquit yourself magnificently.”

The buzz was conversation. Her skin contracted to gooseflesh. How many people were in the hall to make that much noise? “I will?”

“I have faith,” he said, and paused at the door, edging it open and leaning toward the crack to listen.

“Am I late?” she asked, hushed.

“Not at all,” he murmured. “We have a few minutes.” He faced her and extended his hands to her.

Shocked, she stared at him, then glanced up at him. “You’re not serious?”

He lifted his brows, awarded her one of his faint smiles.

So she set her palms on his, felt him curl his fingers around her entire hand—she hadn’t realized how much longer his hands were than hers. “Reese,” he said, gentle. “Thank you for doing this.”

“W-what?” she said. “Thank
me
? Why?”

“You have chosen to throw your lot in with my people’s,” he said. “It was not necessary. But I believe you can do a great deal of good here.”

“Me,” she repeated, her mouth dry.

“You,” he agreed.

“Stubborn, pig-headed, cactus-prickly, constantly underfunded, not-so-great at succeeding me,” Reese said, just to make sure he knew who he was complimenting.

“You,” he said. “Courageous, faithful, generous, practical, persevering-despite-the-odds you.” He paused, made a play at looking thoughtful. “But stubborn, I will give you that.”

The comment made her laugh; like the dangle in his hair, it made him real, and that made the rest of the litany... true. To him, anyway. Her resolve stiffened and she squared her shoulders. “Well if you think so, then I can hardly back down, can I?”

“I have not known you to do so yet,” he said.

Did he squeeze her hands before he dropped them? She thought he did. But then he was opening the door on a trumpet fanfare and there in front of her was a glittering hall to shame all her imaginings, and in it hundreds of pale-faced faeries wearing their riches like glamours out of stories.

Human steel had always trumped faerie magic. Reese set her face and marched in.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting: whispers, maybe? But for the first half of the walk, she couldn’t hear anything over the brass announcing her, and on the last half, the silence in the hall was so absolute she could hear her own blood pulsing in her ears. Once, she thought, there was a rustle, someone’s gown or coat shifting, but that was it. She didn’t allow herself to look right or left. Forward, that was it. Forward, where Liolesa was waiting for her with an expression Reese thought was encouraging; the Queen’s face was smooth as a mask, but her eyes were warm, almost mischievous.

If the Queen could take this in the proper spirit, she could too. Reese stopped at the right distance—she hoped—and bowed, since even Felith had agreed that a curtsey that would reveal her very common boots was out of the question. As her heart raced, she waited for permission to straighten and wondered what everyone around her was thinking. A willowy, light-skinned human might have briefly passed for an Eldritch maiden, maybe. But Reese was neither pale nor tall nor skinny. She couldn’t imagine how long it had been since the average Eldritch had seen someone like her in person.

“Rise, Captain Eddings.”

She did, lifting her head.

“Why have you requested this audience?”

A hiss ran through the crowd: people’s clothes moving, their gasps or whispered exclamations. The presentation of retainers began with Liolesa introducing her. Only ladies and lords requesting acknowledgement as vassals were asked their business.

That they were conducting a ritual as old as Eldritch Settlement in Universal was only the beginning of the upset.

“I come to offer suit to you, as the seal-holder for House Galare and sovereign over all Eldritch,” Reese answered.

Now the gasps were audible, and the murmur of conversation began, punctuated by impatient hushes.

Liolesa was enjoying herself, if Reese was any judge. “And what would you bring, did I accept this suit?”

Her hands were shaking, but she managed the velvet bag Felith had hung from a jeweled belt at her waist and brought the first thing out without dropping it. She held up the apple first for Liolesa, then showed it to everyone around her. “I offer foods from far-off lands, luxuries and treasures for the palate. I would make your orchards rich and your larders full with the fruits of our labors.” Because bringing them in cargo holds counted, she assumed.

“We are intrigued,” Liolesa said. “Is that the extent of your wealth?”

“No, Lady,” Reese said. She withdrew the vial and opened it. “I also bring exotic spices. Cinnamon, nutmeg, feldhar, grains of paradise, and many others, to add to food, incense and perfume.”

“May we smell?” Liolesa asked.

“Please,” Reese said, and handed the vial to a page, who brought it to the throne. Liolesa made much of smelling it, eyes closing.

“We are pleased,” she said. “Is that the extent of your wealth?”

Now for the final gift. Reese drew in a breath and brought out her data tablet, which Bryer had spent most of the night prying apart to make it capable of the demonstration she’d been planning. She started to bend down, discovered she couldn’t around the corset, and wobbled a little as she went to a knee instead to set it on the ground. Then she tapped it and stepped back.

Even she was impressed with how the solidigraphic stallion seemed to leap from the ground. While the jury-rigging her Phoenix engineer had done to enable her ancient tablet to offer solidigraphic projections didn’t include smells or heat like something powered by a gem grid could have, it was capable of a life-size solidigraph, one so convincing all the Eldritch lining the carpet to the Queen backpedaled, and several cried out. The projection snorted and pawed the stone ground, then settled, tail whisking around its legs.

“My Lady, if you agree, I will bring you horses, and use them to improve the breed strength of your herds.”

The sigh that went through the hall then… that was a good sound. Reese decided to see if she could compound it by walking to the projection and resting a hand on its neck, and it worked. These people had no defense against technology; this was magic to them.

“This is a promise of horses to come?” Liolesa asked as the crowd murmured and moved, with people in the back struggling for a chance to see.

“They will look like this one,” Reese said. “I also have access to swift coursers, powerful farm horses, destriers to carry a knight into battle… even ponies for children.”

That sigh was avarice. She didn’t even have to look at the people staring at her to feel it. No matter what they thought of her, they definitely wanted the horses.

“Food, spices, and horses,” Liolesa said. “Is that the extent of your wealth, Lady Eddings?”

Lady Eddings! The words lanced through her, shocking as pain, and in the wake of them she felt clean and bright and present. The hall seemed larger, more brilliant; the moment dearer and more important, as if she stood at a tipping point.

“No, lady,” Reese said. “I also bring the gifts of the out-world. Heat in winter, and cold in summer. Roofs that don’t leak or fall. Roads in good repair.” She drew in a deep breath and spoke louder, over the growing murmurs around her. “Books for everyone to read, not just the wealthy. People to tend your orchards, fix your cities, and map your world. I will not bring you more than you wish, in respect for your customs—I am not here to remake you in the Alliance’s image. But within the parameters you set, Lady, if you make me your vassal… I will help you change your world.”

A heartbeat pause, of shock, of waiting. Liolesa’s eyes were fierce and glad and just a little dangerous.

“Lady Eddings—I accept.”

In a book, the hall would have erupted into tumult. This one didn’t. The stillness stretched and stretched, so painfully that Reese thought her nerves would break before it did. Liolesa let it extend, and at last said, “Come forth and accept the gift of your liege-lady.”

Felith had mentioned this part, that Liolesa would give her a present to formalize the new relationship. A token, usually: a medallion, like the one the Queen had already given her, or a wand to symbolize her new status. Reese picked up the data tablet and put it away, then approached the throne to receive it with her hands, as she was now allowed, expecting a pin or some other piece of jewelry.

Liolesa gave her a scroll.

“Your Majesty?” Reese asked, low.

“Open it,” Liolesa said, loud enough for the people around them to hear.

She stepped back and picked the knot free, then unrolled the parchment. It was… a map. Staring at the atlas with Kis’eh’t allowed her to place it as a part of the northern coast. “My Lady?”

“A vassal who will bring us the fruit of her orchards and the progeny of her pastures needs a place to site them,” Liolesa said. “For your liege gift, I deed you with the lands once held by House Firilith, in the north.” The shock in the room this time came with exclamations, and even without knowing the language Reese could tell they were outraged. She couldn’t blame them; she was shaking. But the Queen had not finished. “Hear now the first commandment of your Queen, Lady Eddings. You are to repair to Firilith no later than the end of winter, to the estate of Rose Point, where you are to establish the new House of Laisrathera, of which you will be seal-bearer. There are Eldritch living there yet in need of a lady; introduce yourself to them and begin at once your duties as land-holder and caretaker. Your vassal gifts will be due to me at this time next year… and I expect at least one horse. Or two.”

Could she speak? Her voice broke on the first word, but she got the rest out. “Perhaps Her Majesty would be more content with five or six. Or…” Yes, this might be a good idea, “if it pleases her, perhaps House Laisrathera will make a gift of one each of its first horses to each of the Houses who owe her allegiance.”

“That is a generous gift,” Liolesa said. “Are you certain of it?”

“I am.” And she was. Half these people probably wanted to murder her, but she could at least set their greed at war with their prejudices; it might give her all of half a year to work before they came after her with their pitchforks.

“Then I am agreed,” Liolesa said. “We welcome the newest addition to the peerage.” She stepped down off her throne, and the rest of the gathering dissolved into mingling as if cued.

Reese remained where she was because she wasn’t sure if her knees would hold her if she tried to walk. The Queen joined her, bending toward her to murmur, “You like my gift?”

“Are you sure it was a wise gift?” Reese asked.

“I don’t know,” Liolesa said, eyes sparkling. “Was it?”

“Your Majesty—”

“My Lady will do in public.”

“My Lady,” Reese said, trying to keep her voice low. “Isn’t this giving your enemies a little too much provocation?”

“Theresa, Theresa.” The Queen shook her head, the minute motion of an Eldritch. “You yourself offered to become a vassal. What did you think that entailed?” She grinned. “Chin up, my own. You can’t do any worse at the duty than some of the people here.”

Reese stared after the woman as she swanned away, trailing her aura of complete confidence behind her. Blood and soil, what she most needed now was a dose of reality and... here it came. She carefully didn’t look up at Hirianthial as she said beneath her breath, “Tell me the Queen didn’t just make me a noble landowner.”

“And if she did?”

That he sounded pleased, amused, gentle... if he hadn’t, she might have fled. But he approved. How could he approve? After all these months of telling them nothing of himself, of his people, to go from that to being fine with her living here? Raising horses here! She didn’t even know one end of a horse from the other!

“Hirianthial, I... I can’t do this.”

“Can’t you?” he said.

“I’m not one of you!”

“Do you have to be?”

She looked down at the map rolled in her hand.

“Laisrathera,” he added. “It means ‘earthrise.’”

Reese choked on her nervous laugh, pressed a hand to her mouth.

“And here is my newest sister!” Araelis said, gliding toward her and offering her wand. Reese fumbled for hers, gave up and touched it lightly with her fingertips. “Welcome to the peerage, sister.”

“Uh, thanks,” Reese said.

“You seem surprised,” Araelis said, grinning. “Don’t tell me the Queen dropped this on you without warning?”

“It’s more like... maybe I didn’t understand the implications of what I was agreeing to,” Reese said, rueful.

“Most of life is like that, I’ve found. And I’ve lived a long time.” Araelis motioned with her wand. “Go on, cousin. My new kin-sister and I should speak about being a seal-holder for the Queen.”

“I remind you I was a seal-holder before you,” Hirianthial said.

“Yes, but you’re a man, and while you’re around I must constrain myself to polite speech,” Araelis said. “You can have her back when I’m done. Look, Liolesa is lonely. Go be a former White Sword for her.”

“Araelis—”

Araelis lifted her brows.

Hirianthial sighed and touched his palm to his chest, bowing to Reese. “Lady. Don’t hesitate to seek me if you require me.”

“Sure,” Reese said, bewildered. “Of course.”

And then he was gone... to the Queen’s side, she noticed, where he seemed to fit as if socketed into the space at her right and slightly behind. They bent together to talk, and she noticed for the first time how close they allowed themselves to stand, even in public. She frowned and turned to Araelis. “What was that about?”

“Which part?” Araelis asked. She followed Reese’s glance and said, “Ah. I had told you they were cousins?”