The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (39 page)

Read The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) Online

Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
12.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
Kirra laughed at that while she mentally reviewed whether she would have to avoid the people she knew. No; there was no disgrace to attending the ball, and neither Erin nor her uncle should have any reason to know that Casserah was safely back at Danan Hall. “I have been traveling casually and choosing events as they suited me,” she said. “They did not know I would attend.”
 
“Besides them, do you have friends here? Do you need me to make introductions?”
 
“I am able to fend for myself, thank you. You have other guests even now arriving at your door.”
 
“Yes—well—look for Bettany if you find yourself at a loss,” he said. “She will match you up with someone you will like.”
 
At the moment, however, the lady of the house seemed more determined to promenade around the room with the regent on her arm. Kirra slipped away from the two of them and eased herself into the ballroom alone. She took a moment to glance around at the furnishings and decorations and found them understated and pleasing, all soft hues and summer flowers. The ladies on the dance floor were dressed as exquisitely as any serramarra, and they all wore jeweled pendants sized as if to cover housemarks, which none of them had. She could not help but notice that a high percentage of the pendants were moonstones and that a disproportionate number of the men wore the black-and-silver colors that Coralinda Gisseltess had appropriated as her own. More than a few also sported pieces of jewelry shaped like small red flowers. The crest of Gisseltess. Apparently a few of Halchon’s vassals had chosen to attend the Shadow Ball in Coravann.
 
She could hardly start pacing around the ballroom, introducing herself at random, so she looked for one of the people she knew. Erin Sohta was immediately visible half a room away, her dark hair splendidly set off by the Danalustrous red of her gown. She did not spot Berric, and there was no sign of Beatrice, who might not have accompanied him anyway. She was surprised Berric was here; he was not overly social. But perhaps he had some connection with Bat Templeson. Or perhaps he had been in the mood to mingle.
 
Before she could cross the room to catch Erin’s attention, she felt a hand on her arm. “Serra Casserah? I didn’t know you were coming here tonight.”
 
It was Heffel Coravann’s daughter, a rangy girl with her father’s height and darkness but a rather sharper set of features. “Lauren.” Kirra greeted her with a smile. “I accompanied the regent, who wanted someone to make him look respectable. I didn’t know anyone from the great House would be attending.”
 
“My brother and I are both here. My father thinks it is an important gesture of goodwill, and I agree. But my brother is—” She compressed her lips and tried to smooth a look of fury from her face.
 
“Your brother is behaving badly,” Kirra guessed. “Drinking too much, perhaps?”
 
“Yes! I’m so angry with him I don’t know how I’ll stand to ride home with him tonight.”
 
“Worry about that later,” Kirra suggested. “Try to enjoy yourself for now. Introduce me to a few of your father’s favorite lords.”
 
So that was pleasant enough, circling through the ballroom in company with someone who was clearly much beloved. It was always a good sign, Kirra thought, when the vassals felt a fondness for the heirs of the House; it generally meant the marlord’s rule had been benevolent. More than one of them used their brief moment in Lauren’s company to bring up a business matter or air a minor complaint, and Kirra was impressed with the girl’s quick and competent answers.
 
She was surprised to be introduced to three men and two women who bore a curious resemblance to each other, who were dressed in clothes of very expensive fabric but extremely plain design, and who made almost no attempt at conversation. Both women wore their hair in tight rolls pinned at the base of their skulls; their demure gowns were ornamented by fine brooches set with black opals. Each of the men, dressed in even more somber colors, wore weapons belts hung with knives or swords. They all sized Kirra up with frankly measuring eyes. She could not tell what verdict they passed on her before they gave small bows and walked unceremoniously away.
 
“Well!” she exclaimed in an undervoice. “That was very odd.”
 
Lauren glanced at her. “Don’t be offended. They don’t like strangers. But they consider it an honor to be invited to these events and assume it would be a great rudeness to refuse, so they make some effort to attend. They will be at my father’s ball in two days as well.”
 
“Are they—I’m not sure—are they from the Lirrens?”
 
Lauren nodded. “My father has established trading partnerships with a few families on the other side of the mountains. He works very hard at maintaining them because the business is lucrative, but he says no one else is as difficult to deal with and he is always afraid he will make a mistake. It was easier when my mother was alive, of course.”
 
Kirra was at a loss. “Because—?”
 
“My mother was a Lirren girl.”
 
Kirra felt her eyebrows spike. “I thought Lirren girls never married outsiders. I thought if they took a lover from over the mountains, that their fathers and brothers would hunt that man down and kill him.”
 
A very small smile came to Lauren’s lips. “Yes. And there’s truth to that. Someday see if you can get my father to recount the tale of my mother’s wooing.”
 
“And do you know any of your mother’s relatives?”
 
“Many of them, in fact. Uncles, cousins, second cousins—there is a whole vast clan network, but it would take me a day to explain to you how all of them are related.”
 
Kirra laughed softly. “And I thought my own family was strange.”
 
Lauren was still smiling. “Every family is.”
 
They continued their circuit through the room. Those wearing moonstones and Gisseltess heraldry remained aloof as they were introduced to Kirra. Everyone else seemed delighted that another serramarra had attended their gathering. Lauren was pulled into yet another conversation about some tithing problem, and apologized to Kirra with her eyes as the grievance ran long.
 
Kirra touched her on the arm. “I see someone I know,” she said, and slipped away.
 
Berric was standing by himself near a refreshment table, his heavyset body straining at his fine jacket and waistcoat. His face was drawn into a frown, but he didn’t appear to be focusing his displeasure on anyone or anything in particular. Rather, he looked as if he was mulling over something and was not sure he liked his conclusion. Kirra grinned. Beatrice always claimed Berric was as grouchy as a water-soaked cat, but it was a side he rarely showed to Kirra. He was always pleased to see her, and she was delighted to encounter him in this unlikely place.
 
She snagged a glass of wine for him and water for herself and held out the wine to him as she approached. “You look deep in distressing thought,” she said gaily. “Perhaps this will clear your mind.”
 
His hand automatically reached for the glass, but his face did not, as she expected, miraculously clear. “Serra,” he said in a flat voice. “This is the last place I would have expected to see
you.
”
 
She was so surprised that she nearly dropped the goblet before he could take it from her fingers. She almost exclaimed, “Uncle! What’s the matter?” before she remembered.
 
She was not Kirra. She was Casserah.
 
Berric and Beatrice hated Casserah.
 
She never made mistakes like that. Never.
 
She sipped from her water to cover her momentary confusion. “Perhaps you did not know that I have been traveling for the summer season,” she said at last, her voice now as cool as her sister’s would have been. “Part of my father’s plan to renew friendships between Danalustrous and the other great Houses.”
 
“And to allow everyone a chance to comment on your elevated status,” he said. “Serramarra. One day to be marlady. You are to be congratulated.”
 
Well, if this was how he always treated Malcolm and Casserah, no wonder they held him in some dislike. Kirra wanted to laugh, but she did not want to give herself away. “It is a difficult and consuming business to govern a realm,” she said instead, her voice very serious. “I shall strive to be a steward every bit as good as my father.”
 
“Or even better,” Berric replied.
 
Really, just the edge of an insult there. She could hardly take offense since it was clear he was still enraged on Kirra’s behalf. “But what brings you to Coravann?” she asked. “My sister told me you were injured when she saw you last. Are you well enough to travel so far?”
 
“Yes, my leg no longer pains me, thanks to Kirra’s magic,” he said, his voice warming as he said her name. “And I came for much the same reason you did—to improve relationships. I have many friends in this part of the country. I would hope to make more.”
 
“I can introduce you to one man, if you have not already met him,” she said. “I was escorted by the regent, who is also bent on making friends. Do you know him? Would you like to?”
 
His eyes went past her to a figure across the room. “Romar Brendyn,” he said in a considering voice. “No, I do not know him, and yes, I would very much like to. That would be a kindness, Casserah.”
 
“Let me take you to him.”
 
He offered her his arm, which she thought had to cost him something, and they made their way through the crowd. Kirra noticed that virtually everyone in the room acknowledged Berric with a bow or a friendly greeting. She had not realized her uncle had such an extensive network of contacts outside of Danalustrous. Perhaps that was because everyone else in Danalustrous, particularly her father and sister, seemed so insular that it never occurred to her that lesser lords would enjoy contact with outsiders. Even the visitors from Rappengrass and Helven knew him; even those from Gisseltess and Nocklyn.
 
Romar was just bowing his way to the end of a conversation with a very attractive older woman when Kirra and Berric fetched up beside him. He smoothly turned away from the woman and toward them, sketching another small bow. “Serra. I see you’ve made friends among these strangers.”
 
“Ah, this is not a stranger. This is Berric Fann, my sister Kirra’s uncle. One of his sisters was Kirra’s mother, and Kirra has always been very close to him and to his other sister. Lord Berric, Romar Brendyn.”
 
It would have seemed like a torturous introduction except the nobility were always obsessed by bloodlines and could follow complex genealogical charts in their heads. “I met serra Kirra a couple of months ago,” Romar said. “I found her a most intriguing lady. I cannot remember the last time I liked anyone so well on short acquaintance.”
 
Whether he said that to please Berric or annoy Kirra, it achieved both ends. Berric positively glowed, and Kirra glowered. “I have never met anyone I would consider her equal,” her uncle replied.
 
That was certainly aimed at Casserah. “Yes, she is quite dear,” Kirra drawled, boredom creeping into her voice. “Too bad she is not with us this very night.”
 
Now Berric was annoyed and Romar was amused. “I am quite content with the company at hand,” Romar replied.
 
Berric decided to ignore Casserah and subtly turned his shoulder to her. “What brings the regent to a humble ball in Coravann?” he asked.
 
Romar let his eyes wander around the fine decorations and the elegant dancers. “Would you call it humble?” he asked. “I think it an impressive display of prestige and power.”
 
“Power?” Berric repeated. “I think most of the men and women in this room would say they have very little of it.”
 
“And that makes them unhappy,” Romar replied swiftly.
 
Berric shrugged. “Some of them. I think most would be easy to mollify. Some concessions here, some recognition there . . . They do not seem like unreasonable men to me.”
 
“The king and his daughter are both desirous of maintaining excellent relations with the lesser lords,” Romar said. “Perhaps sometime there could be a conference of sorts to discuss some of these—concessions.”
 
Berric gave a little bow. “That would be most welcome,” he said. He glanced around the room. “Though this is hardly the time.”
 
“No,” said Romar, smiling. “This is the time I would like to dance with serra Casserah.”
 
Berric flicked her a look and Kirra almost could not prevent herself from adding,
Since her superior sister, Kirra, is not here for him to dance with instead.
Really, she’d had no idea Berric could seem so spiteful. And she certainly hadn’t expected him to take up the cause of the Thirteenth House the minute he laid eyes on Romar. She felt she had missed all the interesting conversations of the night, which had probably occurred in darkened corners and back rooms and consisted of a lot of grumbling about the marlords and the great Houses. Not such a fun party after all.

Other books

Under the Moon by Natalie J. Damschroder
The 731 Legacy by Lynn Sholes
Secrets on Saturday by Ann Purser
The Bride's Prerogative by Davis, Susan Page
Reckoning for the Dead by Jordan Dane
Rocky Mountain Redemption by Pamela Nissen
The Kingdom by Amanda Stevens