“You stay,” Kirra confirmed. “She’ll have her own guards with her. The room will begin to seem quite crowded—except that all of you, of course, will be invisible.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “Senneth could see to that.”
“I didn’t mean
literally,
” Kirra said. “Merely, that Mayva will not realize you exist.”
Indeed, a few minutes later when the small entourage entered, it was clear that, for the serramarra of Nocklyn, there were only two people in the room: herself and Kirra. This despite the fact that she was accompanied by a maid, a groom, and two guards. The men ranged themselves against the wall; the maid took up a seat close to Senneth, who had done as much as she could to make herself disappear without actually invoking the spell.
“Mayva,” Kirra cooed, coming forward to kiss the young woman on both cheeks. “I am so glad to see you! I know I arrived completely without notice and I was so sure you wouldn’t have time to see me—how kind of you to come by like this!”
Mayva Nocklyn was small and sophisticated, with very dark hair pulled back in a severe style. But even that didn’t serve to give much maturity to the round, childish features or counteract the sulky expression that seemed habitual to her face. “Oh, well, I am famished for news of the world, and I was simply delighted when your note came yesterday. But I just couldn’t get away till now, what with one thing or another. You would not
believe
how much there is to do now that Papa is sick and Lowell and I are responsible for everything.”
Kirra pulled the young woman down to a seat next to her on the silken sofa. “Yes, I was so sorry to hear about your father! Will he be better soon, do you think?”
Mayva Nocklyn shrugged. “Well, I wish he would be! But he just lies there, and doesn’t get better and doesn’t get worse, and isn’t interested in anything, and so all the work falls to us. Lowell likes it, I think,” she added, “but I find it very tiresome. Taxes and trade bills and who’s loyal and who isn’t. I mean, it’s so dull.”
With every word the woman spoke, Tayse was mentally subtracting a few years from the age he had originally put her at. He was guessing she had to be in her late twenties, but she sounded as petulant as someone nearly ten years younger. Kirra showed no surprise, however, and indeed was nodding vigorously.
“Oh, I know what you mean. Now and then my father will call me and Casserah into a room and tell us something that he swears is
very important,
so of course we nod and listen, but I almost never understand what he’s talking about,” she said. “I suppose someday we’ll have to pay more attention, so we can take over when—when we must, but for now—” She waved a hand. “I don’t want to bother.”
“Oh, you won’t have to bother even when you become marlady,” Mayva said carelessly. “Your husband will handle everything.”
Not Kirra’s husband,
Tayse thought, and he saw Senneth’s eyes lift oh so quickly to his. She wasn’t smiling, but she may as well have been.
“Well, I’m not sure Casserah or I will ever be married,” Kirra said merrily. “Casserah is too stubborn, and I’m too flighty. Or so my father says. So we might have to learn about taxes and crop rotation after all.”
“I very much like being married,” Mayva said. “Maybe I should help you find a husband.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Kirra said. “I warn you, I can be very picky.”
Mayva seemed to be thinking. “Let’s see . . . Lowell has a cousin who’s handsome and very easygoing. You might like him. He’s Thirteenth House, but he has very fine property in Gisseltess.”
“But I can’t marry a Gisseltess man,” Kirra objected. “You could hardly get farther from Danalustrous, and I will want to spend much of my time at home.”
“Maybe someone from Kianlever or Coravann,” Mayva said. “Kianlever is close to Ghosenhall, you know, so you’d be going to the royal palace all the time. You’d like that. But, again, the only ones I can think of are Thirteenth House, and you might not care to marry so far from your station.”
“Well, my mother was Thirteenth House, so I don’t know that I can be too particular on that score,” Kirra replied.
Mayva was still mulling over bloodlines. “In fact, there are so few marriageable men among the Twelve Houses—well, Darryn Rappengrass, but he—” Mayva shrugged.
“Now, I like ser Darryn,” Kirra said, failing to mention she’d encountered him on the road a couple of weeks ago. “A little frivolous, perhaps, but he seems like a pleasant man to be around.”
“Yes, but to have Ariane as a mother-in-law—” Mayva shuddered. “She controls him completely. You’d end up doing whatever
she
wanted, and, well, frankly, her politics don’t always please me.”
“You mean, they don’t please
Lowell,
” Kirra said coyly.
Mayva laughed. “Well, you’re right! He hates Ariane Rappengrass, says she absolutely cannot be trusted. I always liked her well enough before, but I do understand what he’s saying. I mean, politics are so much more important than personality, don’t you think?”
“Sometimes personality predicts politics,” Kirra said. Tayse was fairly certain the subtlety was lost on their visitor.
“Let’s see, who else . . . well, of course, there are several young men to choose from among the Brassenthwaites, but you could never marry there,” Mayva said.
“Why not? Brassenthwaite and Danalustrous have ties that go back a long way.”
Mayva gave an artificial laugh. “Kirra! My dear! Nate Brassenthwaite is an utter
boor,
but that’s not the worst of it! His brother Kiernan has been posturing all up and down Gillengaria, claiming to be from the only House truly loyal to the king. Lowell
hates
all the men of Brassenthwaite,
hates
them, says if there’s ever civil war between Houses he will choose whatever side Brassenthwaite does not.”
“But Mayva,” Kirra said, all wide-eyed, “why would there be civil war? What have you heard?”
Mayva responded with an elaborate shrug, rolling her shoulders, spreading her hands, and casting her eyes upward. “All they talk about,” she said, “at my father’s house,
all
they talk about is war. The king won’t do this so they refuse to do that. The southern Houses don’t like that, so they’re going to do this instead. I don’t understand it. I always thought everybody liked King Baryn. But Lowell keeps saying the power is slipping through his fingers—that he’s not strong enough to hold on to it much longer. I don’t know. Everywhere I look, I see soldiers. I thought maybe it was the same in the northern Houses. But you look so astonished that I suppose it isn’t.”
Kirra seemed to pull herself together with an effort. “If it is, my father didn’t mention it. And I didn’t notice it. When I return, I’ll have to ask my father—”
Mayva leaned forward and interrupted. “Ask your father to remember his past friendships with Nocklyn and Gisseltess,” she said earnestly. “Lowell told me to mention that as soon as he heard I was coming to see you. Nocklyn has always been good to Danalustrous. We will need allies among the northern Houses.”
He probably hoped you would phrase that a bit more cleverly,
Tayse thought, for the sentiment could hardly have been more baldly offered. But perhaps this Lowell thought Kirra was just as dim-witted as his wife, and so he didn’t think to school her in how to speak.
Kirra was still managing the wide-eyed and ingenuous act. “Do you know—for I’m sure my father will ask me—who else is allied with Nocklyn and Gisseltess?”
Mayva waved a hand. “Fortunalt. Lowell seems very sure of Rayson. I think he is hopeful about Coravann but not so certain of Kianlever. Well, it sits so close to Brassenthwaite, he says—that would be the first House Kiernan would look to if he were trying to crush a rebellion.”
“I still don’t understand,” Kirra complained. “A rebellion? Over what? As you said, I thought everybody liked the king.”
“It’s the succession,” Mayva said. “The king is old, and his daughter is—well—where is she? If she was fit to rule, wouldn’t we have seen something of her by now? And if she is not fit to rule, has the king married this strange young woman in order to have another heir? But what if he dies a year from now? Are we to wait for a baby to grow up and be ruler to us all? Lowell says no.” Mayva shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
Kirra appeared to be thinking hard. “Say the new queen had a baby and the king died a year later. Couldn’t he appoint a regent? Isn’t there someone all the Houses could agree on?”
“I don’t know,” Mayva said again. “Who?”
“Say Princess Amalie
is
fit to rule,” Kirra said, obviously still thinking through it. “She’s only seventeen now, isn’t she? There would still probably be a regent if the king were to die. He must have thought of that already—he must have someone in mind.”
“Well, I’ve never heard Lowell talk about that,” Mayva said doubtfully. “I don’t think he likes the idea of regents.”
“And the king may live another twenty years,” Kirra added. “To be planning for his death like this—well—I don’t like the way that sounds, Mayva, I have to be honest. It smacks of—disloyalty.”
A risky comment to make, Tayse thought. Mayva’s dark brows drew down in a frown, and her full mouth turned even more sulky. “You can’t think that Lowell would do anything
traitorous,
” Mayva said. “All he cares about is the well-being of the kingdom. We can’t let an old king fail to provide for our future.”
“But we can’t assume he hasn’t made those provisions,” Kirra said. With every word she seemed to be throwing off her simpering mask and assuming more of her true personality. Tayse could only suppose that she figured she had already learned anything Mayva might have to impart and did not feel like keeping up the pretense any longer. “It seems to me that instead of puffing themselves up on war talk, the southern Houses ought to send a delegation to Ghosenhall and ask the king some of these very questions. Why is that so unreasonable?”
“Oh, and I suppose that’s what your father will do,” Mayva said.
“Would do, if he was worried about the succession,” Kirra said flatly.
Mayva was gathering up her gloves and hat and other small items she’d carried in with her. “Then I suppose I won’t have good news for Lowell after all when I get home,” she said. “Danalustrous
won’t
side with the southern Houses if there is war.”
Kirra came to her feet just as the Nocklyn woman did. “Mayva,” Kirra said, her voice very serious. “I hope with all my heart there
isn’t
war. I can think of nothing more terrible for the southern Houses
or
the northern ones. I can’t tell you what side my father would take because no one can ever predict what my father will do. But you can tell Lowell that Danalustrous will always remember its past friendship with Nocklyn, and that we hope that friendship always remains strong. We have no wish to see a rift between our Houses. I hope there is no war that could bring such a calamity about.”
The words had the effect of melting Mayva’s pout and causing her to throw herself into Kirra’s arms. “No—no—you and I shall be friends forever,” she promised, laying her dark hair against the gold. “But I am very uneasy, Kirra. I think sometimes men make plans that women don’t understand and can’t undo.”
Kirra hugged her for a moment, then released her and stepped back. Her eyes were shadowed. “Sometimes women nurse dark secrets as well,” she said. “I will not say that men are the only villains.”
Mayva laughed and pulled on her gloves. “No! And what Lowell would say if he thought I’d called him a villain! I’m so glad you stopped by, Kirra—even though this conversation has been so strange. I hope I will see you again sometime—when things make more sense.”
“Yes,” Kirra said softly, “and may that day come soon.”
She said nothing else as Mayva made her way to the door, which her groom opened for her, or as the small party filed out into the hallway. Justin closed the door behind them, and they all listened in silence to the sound of their progress down the hall.
Then Kirra pivoted slowly to look at Senneth, still sitting by the window with her eyes downcast. It was not her habitual pose; Tayse wondered why she would not have thrown off the docile disguise the instant Mayva Nocklyn stepped into the corridor.
“Well?” Kirra demanded. “Nothing new, of course, but chilling nonetheless.”
“She’s the stupidest woman I’ve ever seen,” Justin commented.
“She’s average for her rank and station,” Kirra shot back at him over her shoulder. She was still watching Senneth.
Justin made a small, ironic bow toward Kirra, who couldn’t see him. “Then you must be extraordinary,” he said.
“Sen?” Kirra said. “What do you think?”
When Senneth finally lifted her face, she showed an absolutely masklike expression. “I think Justin’s right,” she said. “You’re extraordinary.”
Kirra stamped her foot. “That’s not what I meant.”
Senneth shook her head. “I think Mayva said it best. Men are making plans that none of us will be able to undo. And you said it well: Why are they not seeking a council with the king? We need to go back to Ghosenhall with some speed and lay that proposition before Baryn.”