The Diplomat (6 page)

“Look at you,” Elise said. “You’re so impressive and composed. And even after spending the evening with my parents.”

“Your parents are amateurs. At some courts it’s a miracle if dinner ends and nobody has been killed.”

Elise beckoned. “You’re wonderful. Come in, hurry. It’s cold out here.”

The tower was almost stifling, though it wasn’t clear why; the countless wavering candles that illuminated it could hardly account for the heat. Every part of the room was cluttered with books and paraphernalia: a small alembic, several baskets filled with herbs, more strings of herbs hanging low from the ceiling, a vibrant green flower in a mortar and pestle, vials of powders and crystals, and even a cauldron in one corner. Rema peered into the cauldron—what horrors lay within?—only to find it filled with clothes.

“I use it to hold my washing,” said Elise, following Rema’s gaze.

Somewhere among the mess was a small bed, piled high with blankets and pillows. A little table covered in dirty plates was pressed against the wall. “A servant should be along soon. In the meantime, I’ll just place these over here.” Elise moved the dishes onto a stack of tomes, which wobbled terrifyingly, and Rema held her breath. “Don’t fear. They’ve never fallen before.”

“You’ve also never seen a woman in trousers before. Don’t tempt fate.”

“It’s not fate I plan on tempting.” Elise gestured to the table. “Please sit!”

Rema was barely able to pull the chair back far enough to squeeze her legs underneath. Elise rested her elbows on the table and propped her head upon her hands. “How was your dinner?”

“I didn’t have a chance to eat anything. Your parents began their argument too early.”

“No wonder you’re so slim.” Elise fidgeted. Though she wore a serene smile, it did little to disguise her agitation. “You’ll have to fill yourself on dessert.”

“I’ll gorge until I explode. By the way, I notice you’re wearing a perfume. It’s most evocative.”

Elise laughed nervously and looked away. “I make all my own scents and cosmetics. I’m afraid we don’t get many merchants this way.” She tilted her face back to Rema, and her expression became coy. “How do you like my fingernails?”

She extended her hand. Her nails had been painted a shade of deep azure flecked with silver. “I know merchants who would pay well for a polish like this,” said Rema. “And you’ve trimmed them so nicely.”

Elise flushed as she toyed with her long jet earrings. “I think it’s nicer to have short nails. Don’t you?”

Their eyes met. There was a familiar heat in that silver gaze, and a tangled mixture of amusement, pity and pleasure swept through Rema’s body. Was Elise attracted to both sexes or only interested in women? In either case, how unfortunate for her that she had been born in Danosha, where the laws and customs did everything they could to punish women who followed their hearts.

A knock at the door made them both turn. Alys tottered in with two trays—that she had carried them up the stairwell without falling seemed nothing short of a miracle—and gave as much of a bow as she could muster under her burden. “Mistress, as you ordered, wine and a fruit custard.”

“Thank you, Alys,” said Elise. “Please set them down.”

Alys placed the trays before them and hesitated before turning to Rema, her entire body animated by an impulse of bravery. “Can I just say, my lady, that I think you look very impressive in your wonderful clothes,” she said in one long, frightened exhale.

Rema laughed. “Thank you, Alys. Please call me Rema.”

“Yes, my lady. I mean, Rema!” Alys skipped from the room, so overjoyed that she forgot to close the door behind her. A moment later she dashed back up and pulled it shut, mumbling apologies.

“She’s a funny thing,” said Elise as she lifted a glass. Her eyes seemed to have grown brighter than the candles around them. “You’re quite an inspiration, a woman in your position.”

“You’re doing very well yourself. I’ve met a lot of court enchanters, but they’re always surly men with sticks in their beards. I’ve never seen an enchantress.”

“It’s not easy to get ahead in this male world, as I’m sure you know.” Elise ran a finger around the edge of her wineglass. “You know, we were talking about you at dinner. My brother is completely in love with you.”

“He’s a nice boy, but not my kind of lover.”

“I wouldn’t have imagined he was. But tell me, who is your kind of lover?”

Rema only smiled and sipped at the wine. It was sweet with a mere hint of bitterness, just as she liked it. “This is very good.”

“Is it? I know nothing about it. I just ask for wine.” Elise glanced at Rema’s hands. “I’ve heard a great deal of talk about getting me married. But are you married?”

“No.”

“And how old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“And they say I’m irresponsible for not marrying by twenty-six! Thirty. You look younger.”

“There’s a balm I stock up on when I’m in Arann. It keeps the moisture in my skin.”

“May I?” Elise stroked a fingertip across Rema’s face. “You’re soft indeed.” Her voice had lowered to a murmur, and the first signs of a blush burned in her round cheeks. “You’ll have to get me the recipe. I’m afraid I’ll be a hag by the time I’m your age.”

“You could never be a hag.” Rema drew the custard closer and tasted a spoonful. It was pleasant enough. She lifted another spoonful, but paused before it met her lips. “Do you really want to stay here your entire life?”

“Of course not. But it’s better to be a free woman here than to be trapped in glorious Arann as one of Ormun’s sorry wives.”

“Yes. It is.”

They remained silent as Rema dug through her custard and Elise tasted her wine. A gust of wind struck the tower, stretching the flames of the candles and ruffling the pages of an open book, and as if broken from some spell, Elise looked up. “Let’s play a game.”

Rema raised an eyebrow. “Tell me the rules.”

“I ask you questions and you answer yes or no. But the answer must only be the truth.” Elise bit the edge of her glass. Her mounting nervousness was increasingly amusing, but Rema had more compassion than to laugh. “You can also confess you don’t know if you honestly don’t.”

“Can’t you already tell if I’m lying with your sorcery?”

Elise giggled, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed, and guilt tugged at Rema’s heart. “I wish. I’d love to know what goes on in your head. You seem to say what you mean precisely and not one word more. Unlike me, babbling and making a fool of myself.”

“I enjoy your babbling. Very well, I’ll play your game, even though it seems designed to trick diplomats into admitting their secrets.”

Elise lowered her lashes, concealing the silver circles of her eyes. “Do you have any secret orders from the Emperor?”

“No.” Rema laughed. How unexpectedly childish a question, though endearingly so. “I feel like I’m being interrogated.”

“You are! Let’s see. Would I enjoy being married to the Emperor?”

“No.”

“Is he as brutal as they say he is?”

“Yes.”

Elise widened her eyes. “That’s terrifying. Do you like being his diplomat?”

Rema hesitated. Now the questions were beginning to bite. “Yes and no. Is that allowed?”

“No! But I’ll forgive it once. Did you think my father was foolish?”

Rema smiled. “Yes.”

“Excellent! What about my mother?”

“I don’t know.”

The candles wavered, subtly shifting the radiance in Elise’s eyes. “Are you really thirty?”

“Yes.” It seemed Elise had lost her fuel already. “Surely you can ask harder questions than these.”

Elise’s breath came quick and shallow, and her scarlet glow had reached her neck. “Very well. Have you enjoyed my company?”

“Yes.”

“Do you…think me attractive?”

Now this game was something Rema understood. “Yes.”

Elise’s face twitched, and she began to nervously stroke the stem of her glass. “Have you…have you…” She drew a quick breath. “Have you ever lain with a woman?”

“Yes.” Rema was no longer able to keep the amusement from her voice. “When are you going to start the hard questions?”

“Those were the hard questions.” Elise’s voice shook and excitement shone in her eyes. “I’m blushing, aren’t I?”

“You’ve been blushing all evening. I assumed it was normal for you.”

“Don’t tease me! Let’s keep playing. It doesn’t have to be the same game as before. There are all kinds of ways we might entertain ourselves.”

Rema sighed. As thrilling as this little engagement had been, she had allowed it to go too far, and now it was time to escape with as much decorum as possible. “You should eat your custard. As for me, I think it’s time for bed.”

“To bed?” Elise traced a shape on the table with her fingertip. “You’re leaving me already?”

“I’m afraid so.” Rema pushed her bowl away. “I enjoyed our evening together. Thank you, Elsie.”

Elise laughed and gave Rema a delighted look. “You’ve been talking with my brother! Only he calls me that.”

“I think it’s cute. Do you mind?”

“No.” Elise continued to giggle. “Not at all.”

Rema rose to her feet, bowed to Elise and took a few steps toward the door. “Wait,” said Elise, hurrying to stand. She moved to a pile of papers and brushed them aside, revealing a small chest. She opened the chest and took out a long silver chain attached to a black stone, which was about the length of Rema’s thumb and capped at either end with gold.

“I must be mad, but I’m going to give you this. Stand still.” Elise moved close to Rema and undid the clasp of her collar. Elise’s fingers trembled as she hooked the chain behind Rema’s neck. “This stone will protect you. You’re going to need it.”

Rema arched an eyebrow as the black stone nestled against the curve of her collarbone. “If I’m in danger, you should tell me in detail.”

“If I could, I would.”

The surprises kept coming. Magic stones? Protection? But as curious as Rema was about the odd display, Elise has begun to stir certain emotions she didn’t dare indulge. It was time to leave. “Well, thank you.”

Elise parted her lips, and her tongue grazed against her teeth. There was no mistaking the desire in her eyes, and Rema’s blood burned to match it. If she didn’t leave now…“Goodnight,” Rema said, retreating toward the door.

As she entered the cold stairwell, she was unable to resist one final look into the tower. Elise still stood where Rema had left her, a single finger pressed to her melancholy lips and her gaze fixed on the floor. Rema closed the door as softly as she could.

Chapter Five

Rema woke. The sound of activity outside her door implied the day had begun without her, which was no surprise; after a sea voyage, her body often wanted nothing more than to hibernate. She untangled from her blankets, removed her underclothes and unhooked Elise’s pendant. In the corner of the room rested a basin of water with clean rags beside it, and she took the opportunity to wash herself.

After drying her invigorated body, Rema lifted the pendant and ran the chain through her fingers. Was it an enchanted spying glass, perhaps, that even now relayed her nakedness back to Elise? Now that would be a worthwhile application of magic. Rema took clean undergarments from her trunk, slipped them over her goose-pimpled body and redonned her uniform. The room’s tiny mirror revealed that her hair hadn’t survived the pillow, and she fixed it with a few fussy gestures. After a moment’s consideration, she returned the pendant to her neck.

As she entered the corridor, Rema almost lost her head to a pair of servants wobbling by under the weight of a large barrel. “Sorry, my lady!” one said.

“Sorry, my lord!” added the other.

Rema wagged her finger at them before continuing to the front court, where she smiled as sunlight permeated her skin. At least the sun was still capable of warmth in the East. The doors weren’t yet open to the peasantry, but the court was crowded nonetheless with rushing servants.

Rema looked through the throng and spotted Alys’s pinched face. “Alys,” she said, her voice raised above the hubbub.

The servant girl jumped as if scolded. “My lady Rema. I hope you had a lovely sleep!”

“A little too much of it. Is Yorin about?”

“I don’t know where he is. I’m supposed to go clean out the ovens. I’ll be black as charcoal.”

The girl seemed no older than ten, but she could have been an undernourished teenager. Either way, the thought of someone so youthful crawling about in ovens had little appeal. “There’ll be no dirty hands for you today. You’re going to spend the morning showing me the palace.”

“Really? But won’t I get beaten?”

“If anyone tries to beat you, I’ll beat them back.”

Alys chuckled. “So long as you let Yorin know that I was only doing what you asked.”

“I promise. And now I’d like to go for a walk. What’s the nicest sight you have?”

“The gardens are out back. They’re nice. Come along!”

Alys led Rema into a corridor decorated with wired suits of armor, decaying portraits and poorly-carved sculptures. Rema stopped, captivated by a hideous statue of a mother holding her infant. The child was so badly carved that it looked more like a pumpkin with feet.

Alys drew Rema’s attention to an immense oil painting of a woman. Her eyes were nothing but swathes of black paint. “That was the Queen’s grandmother,” said Alys. “She scares the life out of me!”

Rema laughed. As they walked, Alys pointed out a few other items of interest: a suit of armor said to come alive each full moon and chase girls through the palace, a picture of a donkey painted by a blind man, and a cracked sculpture rumored to be inhabited by a thousand vengeful ghosts. “Sounds plausible to me,” said Rema, touching its chipped face.

“Oh! Don’t touch it!” Alys hopped on her feet. “Come on.” She dragged Rema to the end of a corridor and heaved open a wooden door that bulged with rot. “This old door has to be replaced, but Yorin doesn’t like to spend money on anything. Anyway, here we are!”

High walls shadowed the modest palace gardens, but plenty of sunlight still filtered through the trees and hedges. The flora had been arranged in neat harmony and orderly squares, and the grass was well tended. As they walked across the damp blades, the aroma of loamy dirt mingled with the fragrance of flowers in bloom.