Royal Airs (10 page)

Corene was already digging through the barrel, and she laughed when she looked at the coin she’d pulled out for Foley. “It’s a coru kind of day,” she said, showing them the symbol. “Travel.”

He nodded at Josetta. “Maybe you’re about to embark on a journey.”

“Back to the shelter. That’s the only trip I plan to take.”

“Now you,” Corene said to Josetta. “Do you want us to pick, or do you want to choose your own?”

“I’ll draw one, but each of you should, too. I like it when my blessings are influenced by the people around me.”

Corene wasted no time plunging her hand in the barrel and bringing out a coin. “Strength,” she said. “If it means strength of will instead of physical strength, I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”

Josetta nodded at Foley and, as seriously as he did everything else, he bent to the barrel and sorted through its contents until he found a coin that felt right to his hand. “Surprise,” he said.

Which, in and of itself, was surprising. Josetta didn’t remember ever receiving that blessing before, although it fell on Zoe practically every time she visited a temple. “It
is
a coru kind of day,” she said. “Though I suppose everyone’s life holds a surprise now and then.”

“Now you pick one,” Corene said.

Josetta slid her hand back into the delicious coolness of the stamped disks, feeling them frisk across her wristbone and along the delicate skin of her forearm. Without warning, one of the coins came to life against her palm, hot as a brand; when she pulled her hand out, she wasn’t surprised to see her skin slightly reddened from the contact. Well, she supposed it made sense that a sweela blessing would burn any hand it came to.

“Love,” she said, showing it to her companions.

“A very good blessing! One we should all receive from time to time,” Corene pronounced.

Josetta nodded and prepared to throw the coin back. But she could still feel a fugitive heat under the stamped surface of the metal, like a lump of coal still glowing with the promise of fire. Hoping neither Corene nor Foley noticed, she slipped the disk into her pocket.

“Time to go home, I think,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” Corene agreed. “We got everything we came for.”

FIVE

T
he small elaymotive was even more crowded for the return trip to Darien’s, since they were sharing it with all their new purchases. Josetta directed the driver to take them to the servants’ door at the back of the house, where they handed their bundles over to Calvin. He was one of the two attendants who had come with Zoe upon her marriage, though he and his wife were clearly more Zoe’s friends than servants. A thin, white-haired, irrepressible old man, Calvin still looked like a vagabond despite nearly five years of living in the regent’s well-appointed mansion.

He was invariably cheerful and full of gossip. “Corene’s mother is expected to arrive in about five minutes, and Darien’s waiting in the
kierten
,” he told them as he took charge of their packages. “I think everyone in the whole house plans to hide in the hallway or on the stairs so they can hear the fight.”

Josetta glanced at Corene, not sure how she’d take this news after the revelations of the day, but the other girl was smiling. “Well, I want to hear it, too,” she said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Josetta said.

Foley stayed behind, but Calvin led them through the narrow service hallways to a small waiting room just off the
kierten
itself. Corene had relinquished her cane, but now and then she leaned a hand against the wall to improve her balance as they walked.

Zoe was in the waiting room already, and she grinned widely when they stepped inside. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it back in time,” she whispered. “Come stand over here—you should be able to see everything.”

Holding back giggles, Josetta and Corene joined her at the door and peered out into the
kierten
. Every house had one, of course—an empty area just beyond the entrance, a place to greet visitors or display subtle reminders of wealth—but Josetta particularly loved the one in Darien’s house. It was an open well of space, as high as the three-storied building, topped by a cupola of leaded glass. Today sunlight poured through the glass in blinding columns of light; on stormy days, the rain rattled against the panes like gravel kicked up by a wagon’s passing. On nights when the moon was full, if you timed it just right, you could see the heavy globe make an arc over the apex of the glass and then majestically sail out of sight.

The rest of the
kierten
was outfitted with small graceful touches—a miniature fountain, a red rug, a flowering plant with long, trailing leaves—but no one ever noticed those. The glass, the light, the very design of the space was what caught and held everyone’s attention. It was a
kierten
made for an elay soul, and Josetta still believed Darien had bought the house to please her.

A smoker car growled up the road and the three of them tensed, but it passed without pausing. Zoe smothered a laugh and turned to face Corene and Josetta.

“Darien told me I could confront Alys if I wanted to, but I figured I was safer if I was out of sight,” she said.

“Maybe
Alys
will be safer,” Josetta retorted.

“Right. That’s what I meant,” Zoe said with an unrepentant grin. It was hard to imagine anyone who looked
less
like a woman of power and influence. She was tall and lanky, with straight dark hair and no sense of fashion, and the only jewelry she usually bothered to wear was the bracelet holding her three blessing charms. She liked servants better than most of their masters, abhorred any kind of grand social gathering, and could hardly bring herself to spend a quint-gold, remembering the long poverty-stricken days in exile. But she was coru prime; she could call water to a dry well, bid waves to dance on the ocean. She could flood the Marisi or prison it in its own banks, refusing to let it pour through its accustomed channel. She had done both of those things, in fact—once to save Corene, and once to save Josetta.

She had a robust and outspoken dislike for a hefty percentage of Chialto’s finer families, but she absolutely despised Alys.

“Shhh,” Corene breathed, waving them to silence. “I heard an elaymotive.”

They strained again to decipher noises coming from the front of the house, and were rewarded by the sound of a brisk knock. Even before anyone could reasonably have answered, the knock came a second time, quick and impatient.

They all held their breath as they peered through the crack to watch Darien cross the
kierten
with an unhurried stride. He opened the front door and a small redheaded woman swept in.

Even at this afternoon hour, she was exquisitely dressed, in a sleeveless beaded tunic over diaphanous trousers so sheer they were merely wisps of fabric. She wore a flimsy printed scarf across her shoulders and no overtunic, leaving her more bare than Josetta had ever seen anyone in public. Anyone who wasn’t as delicate and well-formed as Alys would have a hard time carrying off such a revealing style.

Normally she sashayed into a room with a swaying, seductive step, well aware that her very presence would draw all eyes, but she never bothered trying to charm Darien anymore. So today she just strode in and stood there, her arms crossed and her face showing exasperation.

“
Now
what is it?” she demanded.

Darien offered her the formal bow that anyone, even the regent, must give to a queen. Josetta studied his face as he straightened and looked down at Alys. He was wholly in control of his emotions; he wore a hunti man’s mask of stone. “I just wanted you to know,” he said in a perfectly calm voice, “that Corene won’t be returning to your house. Please have her belongings sent here.”

Alys dropped her arms and stared up at him in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. Why would you say that?”

“Dominic Wollimer tried to assault her a couple of days ago when they were alone in a car. Therefore, I am removing her from his presence. Send her clothes and other things here.”

Now Alys’s face flushed with heat. “How dare you accuse Dominic of misbehavior? He’s my
husband
!”

“And as such, I hope he makes many trips to your bedroom and satisfies all your carnal desires, which heretofore have been insatiable.” Darien spoke the insult in an absolutely uninflected voice. “But I won’t have Corene exposed to him again. She’s never returning to your house.”

Another moment, Alys stared at him, and then she loosed an angry bark of laughter. “Because he—what? Tried to kiss her in the car? I’m sure he was just trying to show her affection. Maybe he was clumsy about it.”

“She was afraid of him, and with good reason,” Darien said. Josetta wondered if he suspected some of the things Corene had shared with the blind seer. Certainly she wouldn’t put it past Darien to have spies in the Plaza, carrying information to him the moment the sisters acquired it.

Alys tossed her hands in the air. “‘Afraid’! The minute a woman knows a man wants her is the minute he’s utterly in her power. She should have been
glad
he took an interest in her. She could have gotten him to do anything she wanted.”

Beside her, Josetta felt Corene grow stiff and brittle, heard Zoe stifle a gasp of indignation. Darien’s face still kept its impassive expression, but his eyes showed a murderous rage.

“She’s seventeen years old. He’s forty—and your husband. Surely you would not condone any physical contact between them?”

Unexpectedly, Alys laughed. She came a step closer and laid her palm against his cheek. “Oh, Darien. Such a prude. Or is it that you’re such a romantic? What do you think is so magical about the act of sex? It’s bodies doing what they’re meant to do. A woman who understands how to use her body has far more power and far more potential than a woman who doesn’t. Corene shouldn’t be afraid to experiment with hers.”

Darien calmly wrapped his hand around Alys’s wrist and pulled her fingers from his face. “If you want to speak with Corene, you come to my house and speak to her under my supervision,” he said, each word so cold it was practically coated in frost. “If you attempt to talk to her at any public function, I will have you removed from the event. If Dominic Wollimer tries to speak to her in public
or
in private, I will have him arrested. If he touches her, I’ll have him killed.”

Alys blazed up in fury, wrenching her hand from his hold. “I hate you!” she cried. “How can you threaten me like that? Even you—even
you
, Darien, prancing around as regent and playing at politics and thinking you can force everyone to do your bidding—even
you
can’t go around killing people just because you want to!”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” was his cool response.

She hit him, a quick strike on the shoulder with her balled-up fist. He didn’t move to avoid it, didn’t react when the blow fell. “Someday,” she panted. “Someday, Darien, it won’t be
you
pulling all the strings. My time will come.”

“That may be,” he said. “But it’s not your time now. Are we clear?”

“I hate you,” she said again.

“I don’t think you could possibly hate me as much as I hate you,” he replied. “Are we clear? Do you understand me?”

“Oh, I understand you. I’ve always understood you,” Alys said grimly. She stalked toward the door, flung it open, and paused for a single parting shot. “Your mistake is that you’ve never understood me.” With a final flick of red hair, she was gone.

Josetta pulled back from her crouch at the doorway, feeling sick to her stomach. Zoe pushed the door closed with a faint
click
, then leaned against the wall.

“That wasn’t as entertaining as I thought it would be,” Zoe said.

Corene shook her head. Her expression was tight, her whole body coiled with tension. “Dealing with my mother usually isn’t,” she said.

Zoe reached for her, and Corene flinched away. Zoe pushed herself from the wall and put her hands more insistently on Corene’s shoulders. This time Corene held fast, but her eyes were focused on the floor.

“You have to listen to me,” Zoe said in a quiet, intense voice. “She’s your mother, and if you want to love her, you can go ahead and try. But she’s not a good person. She doesn’t have your best interests at heart. She’s selfish. She’s ambitious. She’s ruthless. And I think she will use you—use anybody—to get what she wants.”

Corene’s voice was muffled. “I know all that.”

“Just because she would throw you away doesn’t mean you’re worthless,” Zoe added. The word made Josetta wince, made Corene jerk her head up. Oh, but Zoe was right, Josetta could see it in Corene’s eyes.
Worthless
was exactly how she was feeling.

“I am,” Corene whispered. “I’m not a princess anymore. I’m not the heir. My mother doesn’t want me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be.”

Josetta came up behind her, wrapped her arms around Corene’s waist, laid her head on those fiery curls. “
I
want you,” she said fiercely.

Zoe lifted one hand to brush it across Corene’s cheek. “Oh, and
I
want you,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re my daughter’s sister, my husband’s child. The blood that runs through their veins is the same that runs through yours—I can feel it when I put my hand on your skin. You’re a Serlast, one of the proudest families of the realm. And you are—magnificent. Beautiful. Clever. Brave. My daughter is going to want to be just like you, I know it already.”

“Although maybe not quite as dramatic,” Josetta said against Corene’s hair.

She felt Corene shake with a tentative laugh. “I can’t help the dramatic part,” she said. “It seems to just happen around me.”

Zoe leaned forward to kiss Corene’s cheek, then for good measure she threw her arms around Josetta and Corene and gave them both one good squeeze. Corene squealed in protest as she was crushed between their bodies, and they were all holding back smiles and tears as they broke apart.

“So my prediction is that she won’t send
any
of your clothes and things over here, what do you think?” Zoe asked.