The Diplomat (3 page)

“Strange. I thought it pretty.” Talitha ran a crooked finger across her chin. “So, a female diplomat. You wear your uniform well.”

“I know.”

“And you’ve a bit of sass in you too. You’re a striking creature, Rema. Articulate, handsome and with a touch of your own fire.” Talitha’s eyes glittered in the candlelight. “A diplomat who speaks without servility is a very rare thing. I’d venture that you’re one of the Empire’s best.”

“Possibly. I’m certainly the most attractive.”

“Three weeks to get here. Three weeks to get back. Are we really so important as to deserve a diplomat of your caliber?” Talitha reclined, and her body moved mysteriously beneath her gown. “It’s as if the Emperor thinks we might refuse.”

“The Emperor rarely thinks. For my part, I’m very sure that you’re planning to refuse. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh? We are a beleaguered little kingdom, and the most powerful man in the world is offering to save us. So tell me, why are you so very sure that I’m not receptive to your generous offer of help?”

“Ormun demands your unwed daughter.” Rema looked into Talitha’s faded blue eyes and found the admiration she’d hoped for. “Had you betrothed her to a Lyornan merchant-king, you could have ended this war already. Clearly she doesn’t want to marry, and you’re perfectly content to keep her.”

“Well, well. I was certain some belligerent emissary would swagger through the door and, with idiot confidence, demand to put my Elise on a cargo ship.”

“I know she isn’t chattel. Ormun has made you a cruel demand, crueler than most men could realize. To have clawed off marriage for so long, she must be a fiercely independent woman.”

“I had five daughters.” Talitha’s tone grew distant. “Three sons, two still living, so there’s someone guaranteed to inherit our mess. Four of the girls were packed off. In return, a little land, some respite from war and grandchildren I’ve never seen. Never will.”

“I understand.”

“Now, Elise.” A fond smile brightened Talitha’s face. “My third daughter. When she reached the age of eight, my husband wanted to marry her to some distant prince in order to secure safer sea trade. Sea trade! Can you believe it? Fortunately, little Elise hid for two months in the palace towers and thus escaped her fate. And it was always the same ever after. My husband kept trying to marry her off, and she’d vanish until the suitor would write back, fed up, to call off the wedding.”

Rema laughed. “How did the King handle it?”

“Poorly,” said Talitha, grinning. “When she was seventeen, a magician visited us at court, in search of our patronage. My husband was unimpressed. Elise, however, was fascinated. She convinced the wizard to sell her a few old books and some odds and ends from his pack. For the next year we hardly saw her, locked away as she was reading those books.”

“A magician?”

“Hush! I’m telling the tale. Now listen. The next year, Cedrin suffered terribly from gout. Elise brought him some foul-smelling remedy she’d mixed. In the morning, he’d never felt better, and, after eighteen years of wanting nothing more than to be rid of her, my husband decided she was worth keeping.”

“She taught herself how to heal gout?”

“Oh, and more. She found her escape, bless her heart, and since then she has served as an official at my court.” Talitha’s eyes grew smoky with affection. “As you may have discerned, I love Elise fiercely. The idea of Ormun snatching her away does not sit well with me in the least.”

Rema remained silent. There’d been no doubt the woman would be difficult to extract, but she’d never expected her to be an enchantress, of all things.

“Oh, I see you thinking,” said Talitha. “You’re determined to pry her away from us. It’s your duty, and you’re such a surprise that I can’t bring myself to detest you for it. But mark my words, this war will be over before you convince me to surrender her to that marauding rapist you call an Emperor. How many wives does he have now?”

“Nineteen.”

Sarcasm darkened Talitha’s voice. “I’m sure he treats them all with care and respect.”

“I share your reservations, but don’t forget that your kingdom needs our help. There are many more lives at stake here.” Sensing that the conversation was over, Rema rose to her feet and straightened her coat. “I appreciate having had the privilege of your attention.”

“Yes, yes. Yorin will arrange all the comforts you require, or rather all that we can offer. Don’t expect to drink from cups of pearl. My husband will see you this evening, and you can tell him about how terrible the war is and how badly we need your soldiers, and so on.” Talitha gave an exasperated sigh. “If you truly want to help us, why not take your coaxing little voice to Lyorn and tell them to leave us be?”

Rema bowed her head. “They’re on the cusp of victory. Keeping them from their kill would take a better diplomat than I.”

“Well, if you find one, send him my way.” Talitha opened her book again. “Or her! Of all the unexpected things…”

Rema left the chamber and closed the door quietly behind her. Yorin was fidgeting in the corridor outside. “I’m surprised,” he said. “I’d expected her to evict you much sooner.”

Rema returned his questioning stare. “You must understand this trade is necessary. The war will destroy you without our help.”

“Any fool can see that. And while Elise is well-loved at court, not least by me, she is also a source of conflict.” One of Yorin’s mobile eyebrows crept upward. “A lifetime of unruliness has shaped her character in a wild direction.”

“Ormun has a talent for subduing unruly wives.” A familiar ache crept into Rema’s chest, and she took a moment to steady her breath. “This isn’t my finest moment as a diplomat, Yorin.”

Sympathy softened Yorin’s tired eyes. “Ah, well. That’s monarchs for you. Despite our wiser heads, they all do what they want in the end.” He motioned for them to walk. “Come. Let’s not chat in front of the door. She may be old, but her hearing can be sharp when you’d least like it to be.”

Yorin’s cloth sandals padded softly, a gentle accompaniment to the sharp clicking of Rema’s high leather boots. Just as her uniform was intended to convey the wealth of the Empire, Yorin’s simple garb said as much about the poverty of Danosha. A lesser diplomat would have drawn pleasure from the difference, but Rema knew better. This struggling kingdom needed all the help she could give.

Before they could reach the stairs, a young woman emerged from the stairwell. Her pale, rounded face was obscured by a tangle of waist-length black hair. Behind the untidy locks, her eyes shone an intense silver-grey, and her full lips were turned in a pout. The cut of her red dress exposed one of her shoulders. As she walked toward Rema and Yorin, the scarlet fabric tightened against the curve of her ample thigh, and Rema’s pulse stirred.

“Elise,” said Yorin, nodding to the arrival. “This is Remela, the Emperor’s emissary.”

“My lady.” Rema gave only a small bow. If this woman objected to being labeled a princess, then it seemed fair to spare her the deep bow Rema reserved for royalty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Rema.”

Elise examined Rema with a puzzled tilt of her head. She gave a deep, rich laugh, and the sullen look cleared from her face. “I don’t believe it. You’re a woman!” She took a step closer. “And a pretty one too. I was expecting some imperial toad with mustaches.”

Rema rubbed her upper lip. “I shaved my mustaches this morning. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’re amusing too.” Elise’s voice warmed with pleasure. “I’ve never seen a woman in trousers. They’re very becoming on you.”

“They certainly drew attention in the city.” Rema smiled, and Elise’s cheeks pinked. “But I’m used to it.”

“Well, this is a problem.” Elise folded her arms. “I was expecting you to be loathsome. How am I going to hate you now?” With her lips parted in appreciation, she gave Rema a second lingering inspection. “How did you do it? I’ve never seen a woman diplomat.”

“That’s a long story.” As enjoyable as Elise’s interest was, indulging it would only make matters more difficult. “I’m sure we don’t have time.”

“Oh, are you in that much of a hurry to abduct me?” Elise pouted again. “To take me to that famous gentleman Ormun of the Pale Plains, who will hold me tenderly and stroke my hair as I fall asleep?” Temper flashed behind her eyes, and she put a hand on her hip. “I’ll never allow it.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m very persuasive.”

Elise lowered her lashes. “I imagine a job like yours requires a talented tongue.”

“I’ve been told mine is exceptional.” Damn those silver eyes.

Elise’s breath quickened, and more color rose in her cheeks. “You’re fascinating. I need to know all about you.” She turned to Yorin. “What are the dinner arrangements?”

“I don’t know for certain.” Yorin spoke with obvious irritation. “I expect she’ll dine with your parents.”

“What a shame. Rema, will you join me in my tower tonight for dessert? I’ll be a welcome relief from my dull parents, I promise.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Rema.

“Oh, the pleasure will be mutual. Yorin, see she’s well taken care of in the meanwhile.”

“Of course she will be,” said Yorin, his brows dragging almost to his nose. “What do you take me for?”

“I shan’t answer that.” Elise winked at Rema. “By the way, don’t get too excited when my father leaps at the chance to sell me into slavery. Until you persuade my mother, you’ll never get anywhere. And even then, I’ll never go. Is your Emperor a patient man?”

“Far from it,” said Rema.

“Then you’re in trouble, aren’t you?” As Elise walked off, her large hips moved suggestively beneath her dress, and it took some effort for Rema to look away.

“She’s off to her tower,” said Yorin. “If you’re unlucky, she’ll put a hex on you and make your job harder than it already is.”

“I think I’m hexed already. That dress…”

Yorin’s eyebrows twitched. “Yes, it was obvious you two enjoyed each other’s company a little more than was natural. If you want to stay in the King’s good graces, don’t remind him why his daughter is so determined to stay unmarried.”

Even Rema, expert diplomat though she was, couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Take my advice. Keep away from her altogether and focus on his grace. I’ll put the right words in his ear, and then all three of us will persuade the Queen. She’ll see the necessity eventually.” Yorin’s voice strengthened with urgency. “This war goes very badly, Rema. Hundreds die every day. If you’re half the diplomat you ought to be, then you’ll focus on what matters.”

Rema’s good mood faltered. “There’s no such thing as a war that goes well.” She met Yorin’s somber eyes. “Don’t worry. My head isn’t easily turned. My purpose here is to see peace between you and your enemies.”

Yorin’s lips knitted together as he brooded for several seconds. “So be it,” he said. “Your meeting with his grace is a way off. Are you hungry? I can arrange your lunch.”

“Please do. Something simple.”

Yorin’s chuckle proved every bit as gloomy as the man himself. “You’ll find little around here that isn’t simple. Well, except for Elise, but I think you’re a match for her. Come along, then.”

Chapter Three

The red-bricked kitchen swarmed with servants, many of whom stood between long wooden counters kneading dough, sifting flour and pouring batter into trays. They stopped their work to stare at Rema. Yorin shook his fist at them, scaring them back to their duties. He led her past the ovens and into a low room containing several rough-hewn tables. “Take a seat, and I’ll bring you some food,” he said.

Rema chose a seat against the wall and pressed her back to the warm stone, which had been heated by the ovens on the other side. She relaxed, the heat moving through her muscles, and was on the verge of dozing by the time Yorin returned with a platter of food. “Thank you,” said Rema, eyeing the meal: a mug of water, a dark-crusted lump of bread, a flat wheel of cheese and an unhappy apple. Not quite a banquet.

“Enjoy the feast,” said Yorin without a hint of irony. He nodded farewell and left the room still tugging at his sleeve.

Rema gnawed at the edge of the cheese. As she ate, curious heads popped through the archways that connected the room to the kitchen, accompanied by muffled giggling and conversation. Ignoring the servants, she tasted the water and gazed at the plain stone wall in front of her. Her meetings with Talitha and especially Elise remained vivid in her memory. Two powerful women, both tied by their circumstances. Would the King offer any further surprises?

A polite cough preceded the entry of a young man, who looked to be in his late teens. Judging by his shaggy mop of black hair and the silver shimmer of his gaze, he was one of the two surviving royal sons. His beautiful eyes and arched lips contrasted painfully with the rash of pimples along his jaw and the gangliness of his young body. He’d probably grow to be attractive, but he had some adolescence to pass through yet.

As he wandered into the room, his eyes lit with humor. “So this is the famous diplomat! You have the servants in an uproar. The head waitress has been telling all her girls about the handsome young man who arrived today. Now she can’t look anyone in the face.”

Rema brushed her bangs from her eyes. “I have that effect. Would you care to join me, Prince?”

“Prince. Ugh. Just call me Loric.” Loric dragged a chair to her table and lolled on it with the inelegant laziness of someone used to spreading themselves across furniture. “And what do I call you besides divine?”

“Just call me Rema.” Rema offered him a piece of cheese, but he waved his hand.

“I think I’d lose a tooth on that thing.” Loric grinned as he scrutinized Rema’s face. “Our Elsie’s going to adore you.”

“We’ve met already. She had no complaints. Does she prefer to be called Elsie?”

“Oh, it’s only me who calls her that. It’s my duty as a little brother.” Loric laughed, sounding uncannily like his sister. “She’s spent weeks ranting about her intention to tear the imperial ambassador apart the moment he arrived. I’ll bet you dazzled her. God, does everyone look like you where you come from?”