Troubled Waters (44 page)

Alys was preening a little. “Indeed, yes. This is my face as it has always been.”

Now Qeesia laid her palm against Alys’s cheek with the same sort of questing hunger. “Yes—feel that softness—almost divine and impossible to replicate. I imagine your skin is flawless all over.”

If Alys was repulsed by the attention, she didn’t show it. In fact, she wore a triumphant expression, as if pleased that she had been able to steal Qeesia’s interest from the Lalindar prime. At that point, Zoe thought it was safe to slip away.

The rest of the evening was not much different, except in degree. None of the other three guests were quite so blatant about their preoccupation with youth and their desire for physical contact, but both ambassadors and the other woman managed to brush against Zoe, or take her hand, or stand so close that she could almost catch the rhythm of their hearts. The encroachment didn’t seem to bother anyone else as much as it bothered Zoe.
Sweela
Nelson unfailingly enjoyed contact,
torz
Taro was always open to the press of flesh, and
elay
Kayle was so ethereal he didn’t seem to notice. Even the two
hunti
women in the room—Mirti and Seterre—seemed unaffected. Zoe thought that was because Seterre was determined to win favor with the visitors, and Mirti didn’t mind saying in her brusque way, “Here. No reason to stand so near.” Only Elidon seemed a bit put off by the closeness that the Soechins seemed to require—and Elidon, as the oldest wife present, was the one who drew the least attention.

The ambassadors from Soeche-Tas did not crowd too closely to the king. So he stood among them all, offering his hesitant, hopeful smile, shoulder to shoulder with Elidon for most of the evening.

Zoe was seized by a sudden whimsical notion. If she,
coru
prime, could read the blood in someone’s veins, could the
sweela
prime read the thoughts in that person’s head? Could Nelson look at Vernon and know what he was thinking?

And if he could, what thoughts would he find at the forefront of the king’s mind this very moment?

TWENTY-SIX

V
ernon never asked Zoe for a formal opinion about the Soeche-Tas guests, so that was one problem she stopped worrying about immediately. The other one—the vandalized wardrobe—was an ongoing source of annoyance, since Zoe was expected to make at least one appearance at some social function for the rest of the nineday. Once again, Keeli came to her rescue, arriving at the palace early the next day with a trunkload of clothing that belonged to her or Sarone.

“I only brought things that we have never worn to the palace—or worn at all—but even so, a few of them are out of date,” Keeli said. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry! You’ve saved my reputation.”

“You don’t care about your reputation,” Annova said, pulling out first one tunic, then another. “Oh, these are so lovely. Why don’t I have the dressing of
you
instead of Zoe? You at least care what you look like.”

“You don’t want to work for her. She’s demanding and ill-tempered,” Zoe said, holding one of the overrobes up to her shoulders. It was so dark that at first it looked black, but just a touch of light revealed it as a haunted blue. “But I have to admit, she has excellent taste in clothing.”

Keeli had settled in the middle of the bed, her face sunny as always. Anyone less demanding and ill-tempered it was hard to imagine. “So what were the Soechin visitors like?”

Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Unnerving. One of them—a woman named Qeesia—reminded me of a bat. Some creature that would fasten itself to your throat and suck you dry.”

Keeli’s blue eyes widened comically. “That sounds very disturbing! Were they all like that?”

“Yes, but she was the worst. It made me wonder. If the king were really to marry one of the viceroy’s daughters, would she be that way, too? Seems like she would bring no end of havoc to the court.”

“Well, I don’t care if she’s a jackal feeding on corpses,” Keeli said. “I get to come to the palace for the women’s luncheon tomorrow! So I like her just fine.”

T
he luncheon, to Zoe’s mind, was hot, crowded, and overlong. The shopping expedition that followed was marginally more enjoyable, but only because she was able to make some serious inroads into her wardrobe deficit. She also purchased two extravagantly expensive outfits for Keeli to thank her for the timely loan of her own clothes. They were both happy, for different reasons, when the afternoon coasted to an end.

Zoe yawned through the whole trip back up the mountain, wondering if she would have time to nap before the night’s activities began. The king had planned a grand outdoor event—one of those breathtaking displays of light that would paint the palace in gorgeous colors. She remembered the last one she had witnessed over Quinnahunti changeday when she was living on the river flats with Annova and Calvin. It was almost impossible to catalog all the ways her life had changed since that day.

“Have you decided what I should wear tonight?” Zoe called to Annova as she entered her suite.

The other woman came hurrying through the door to the room she shared with Calvin. “I haven’t had time to think about it,” she said. “Calvin’s had a stomachache all afternoon. I was giving him something to help him sleep.”

“There must be an illness going around,” Zoe said. “Romelle’s been miserable the past few days, too. I hope you don’t catch it.”

“Or
you
! Even worse! Come along, we’ve got work to do before you’re fit to be seen tonight.”

“We’ll be outside in the dark. How beautiful do I have to be?”

“As beautiful as Elidon. And how do you think
she
will be dressed?”

Zoe sighed and submitted to Annova’s ministrations. In truth, it was difficult to know exactly what to wear. Winter was not as punishing here in Chialto as it could be in the northwest provinces, but it was still Quinnelay, and the nights could be extremely cold. Meanwhile, the king, his wives, his visitors, and many of the other invited guests would be viewing tonight’s spectacle from boats rowed out into the middle of the lake that snuggled up against the palace grounds, and the air just off the water was sure to be icy. Zoe insisted on dressing for comfort as much as style, and Annova reluctantly acceded.

“Are you going to come outside and watch?” Zoe asked as Annova finished crimping curls into her hair.

“I might. It depends on how Calvin is feeling.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason I hope he’s much better soon!”

They ate a light meal together as darkness was falling. Annova took a bowl of soup to Calvin and came back to report that he thought he was improving.

“For dessert we have these lemon bars that Elidon sent—and these chocolate drops from Alys—and I don’t know what these are from Romelle,” Annova said. Nearly five ninedays after the rescue on the river, the queens were still supplying Zoe with tangible expressions of their gratitude. “Fruit tarts? I think they’ve gone bad.”

Zoe stood up, brushing crumbs off her robe. “Maybe I’ll have a sweet when I get back. I hope you get to see the entertainment!”

A few minutes later, she was in the
kierten
, milling around with fifty or sixty others, waiting to hear how they would be organized for the event. The royal family and the visitors from Soeche-Tas had gathered into a small, isolated group. Qeesia was standing too close to Josetta, patting the girl’s fair hair with a look of intense satisfaction. Seterre stood nearby, smiling fondly. Zoe shivered and looked away.

There was a commotion near the grand front entrance as the royal herald stepped forward and announced that boats had been drawn up to the water’s edge and anyone who wanted to witness the exhibition from the water should stroll down to the bank. “Only the royal family and their invited guests will be allowed on the king’s vessel,” the herald added, raising his voice above the noise of the crowd in motion.

Zoe didn’t care if she watched from water or land, but she docilely followed everyone else outside. The dark of night was pushed back by a forest of brightly burning torches, though the flames did little to warm the crisp air. Servants helped men and women onto the ranks of rocking watercraft, some large and elaborate, some barely bigger than rafts. A number of guests showed no interest in the boats, but arranged themselves in chairs that had been set up along the edge of the water. Zoe even saw a few blankets laid out for anyone who wanted to recline on the ground to watch the palace painted with color—or who wanted to wrap up against the frosty air.

“A
coru
woman not rushing to take her place on the river?” said a voice behind her. She turned to see Darien’s teasing smile. “Surely you would find a welcome among the royal family. What holds you in place on land?”

“A disinclination to spend more time than I must with people I don’t particularly like,” she replied.

“New acquaintances or old ones?”

She laughed. “In this case, the new ones. Why are
you
not at the king’s side, as you always are?”

His expression was rueful. “I admit, the Soechins do not appeal to me, either. I claimed I was worried about overcrowding on the boat, but that was a lie.”

“Because lies come so easily to you,” she said, but she couldn’t put any venom into it.

He laughed. “But it is really quite spectacular to see such an exhibition from the water. I have instructed the servants to reserve one of the smaller boats for me. Would you care to join me and row out into the middle of the lake?”

She gestured down at her fine clothes. “I am not dressed for rowing. I am dressed for sitting at my ease while people around me labor.”

He laughed even harder. “I misspoke. Would you care to sit in a boat with me while
I
row us out into the water?”

“Yes,” she said, “I believe I would.”

She took his hand and they picked their way down the uneven ground of the bank. Some of the smaller boats had already traveled some distance from shore, but the king’s stately vessel was just now casting off. Fragments of conversation drifted over the Marisi, eerily disconnected from the speakers.

“I can’t believe
you
wanted to come out onto the water,” someone said in a nasty tone. Zoe thought it might be Alys.

Josetta answered, her voice casual. “Oh, I’m not afraid of the river. At least not here, where it’s so calm.”

Zoe was grinning when a servant helped her into one of the smaller watercraft where Darien had already taken the oars. Unlike Nelson’s boat, this one didn’t have a selection of benches where different rowers could take their seats; this one just featured a long narrow hump that bisected the boat from stern to prow. Darien sat with his spine pressed up against a back support, one leg on either side of the divider.

“Elegant,” Zoe said as she climbed in, trying to minimize the shifting of her weight so the boat didn’t rock too badly.

He grinned. “At least the bottom’s dry.”

“So far,” she said darkly. “I’m glad I didn’t wear my expensive shoes.”

As soon as she was settled, a servant pushed them into the water. She watched the palace recede as Darien rowed them smoothly away from shore. She loved the sound the river made as the oars dipped in and pulled back, water slapping against the side of the boat, dripping from the edges of the wood. All around them were similar noises, echoing across the surface of the river, embroidered with muffled laughter, occasional shouts, the creak and rattle of the oars straining against their guides. The king’s boat and two of the other big ones were bright with torchlight, but everything else on the water moved in darkness. The star-chilled air felt unexpectedly delicious against Zoe’s skin.

Darien shipped the oars and the boat came to an incomplete standstill. She could feel the current eddying around them, nudging them gently toward the southern border of the lake.

“Is this good?” he asked. “Are we far enough away?”

“This is perfect,” she murmured, “even before the exhibition starts.”

He laughed softly. “I thought you would like it out here. Are you cold?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind.”

“Here. Scoot back by me.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, ready to mock. But he was pulling on her arm, urging her to slide back along that center bench. “We’ll tilt into the water,” she said.

“We won’t. Come on. Lean against me. You’ll be more comfortable.”

She couldn’t resist. Gliding carefully, so she didn’t snag her overrobe on any rough edges, she moved back until she could settle against Darien’s chest. The boat danced under them, the stern sinking a little, but Darien extended his legs along either side of hers and they steadied. He wrapped both of his arms around her waist and snugged her closer.

“Isn’t this better?” he whispered in her ear.

She felt a giggle rising. “You’ve done this before.”

“Not for a long time.”

“How can I believe that,” she said, “from a man who lies so easily?”

“Shh,” he said. “The show’s starting.”

Indeed, on some signal that Zoe missed, the torches were abruptly extinguished, which was when she realized that all of the palace windows that faced the water were also dark. Gasps from the crowd rose from across the water.

Then suddenly the whole front surface of the palace was lit with a showering sizzle of gold, bars of color sparking and spiraling down. The watchers had barely expressed their awe at this sight when it was swept away by great swaths of purple and blue and orange that bloomed and faded along the stone canvas of the palace.

“How can something like this be
possible
?” Zoe asked in a whisper.

“Some Dochenza invention,” Darien replied, his mouth at her ear. “Controlled gases and some kind of pigment. I don’t pretend to understand it.”

“Are they here? Running the display?”

His head was so close to hers she could feel him nod. “If you look closely enough, you can see shadows running up and down the base of the palace.”