“Anyone would think you were ashamed of me.”
Casserah leaned in to give her a quick hug. “You know that’s not true. I’m trying for an effect here. It’s as much for your sake as mine. We want everyone else to love you as much as we do.”
Kirra put a hand to her heart. “Is such a thing even possible?”
Casserah smiled again and pushed her to the door. “We will work to achieve it.”
At first, the breakfast went smoothly enough. As Casserah had said, there were only about twenty people gathered with a semblance of intimacy around the table in the mansion’s smaller dining room. Strong sunlight made the room seem quite cheerful, the food was tasty, and all the guests were so pleased to be included that everyone was in an excellent mood. Casserah sat at the head of the table, Kirra at the foot, and they handed around plates of eggs and pastries with an easy informality. Kirra even enjoyed her conversation with the two young men sitting on either side of her, vassals’ sons who didn’t take themselves too seriously and didn’t think the breakfast hour was too early to start flirting.
“Why are you gone so much?” one of them asked after Kirra had made them both laugh with some story about traveling. “You’re a great deal of fun. Sometimes Danan Hall isn’t always—fun.”
“Oh, I’m much less entertaining the longer you know me,” Kirra assured him. “You only appreciate my wit and sparkle because you see it so rarely.”
“How long are you staying?” the other asked. “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow, but we could go riding later today. Even hunting. Your father has superb hounds.”
Kirra would hunt if she knew the game would be eaten, but she didn’t really enjoy hunting as a sport. Too much fellow feeling for the animal being chased down. “Oh, let’s just go riding,” she said. “Why spoil a lazy outing with the necessity for making any kind of effort?”
That caused them to laugh again. The men were instantly diverted into talk about dogs and horses, and Kirra listened as intently as if she was really interested. The fact that she wasn’t made it easier for her to monitor the conversation going on a few places away from her in the middle of the table. There, another young man was leaning forward to express a passionate opinion to two ladies sitting across from him. They nodded wordlessly, as though mesmerized by his commentary.
“. . . hardly accidental,” he was saying. He was good-looking in a bluff and stupid way. Kirra recognized him as Chalfrey Mallon, the son of her father’s richest vassal. “The point was to humiliate her so publicly that she won’t make any attempt to wrest back the inheritance. He’s sent her away from Danalustrous over and over, but she keeps crawling back, trying to work her way into his good graces.”
Oh, red and silver hell. He was talking about
her.
It took all of Kirra’s energy to keep her gaze trained on the young man next to her, going on at some length about a purebred bitch who could be trusted to fetch back
any
game, even if it was bigger than she was and weighed more. Casserah would not like it if Kirra created a scene. Casserah would not like it if she metamorphosed into a lion and ripped Chalfrey’s throat out.
“Now, purebreds—I know some people swear by them, but I like a mongrel any day,” the other young lord was saying. “Something about them. They’re smarter. And more loyal.”
One of the women sitting across from Chalfrey Mallon glanced in Kirra’s direction and lowered her voice, but Kirra could still hear her. “Do you think it’s because she’s a mystic?”
Chalfrey wasn’t speaking very loudly, but he didn’t put any effort into moderating his voice, either. Kirra was beginning to suspect that she was not the only one at the table who was eavesdropping on this conversation, though they were all pretending not to listen. “Of course it’s because she’s a mystic! He doesn’t trust her, and he’s just sent a message to the rest of Danalustrous not to trust her. Mark my words, this is just the first step. In a year—maybe six months—he’ll bar her from the Hall. He’ll cast her out. He knows Danalustrous is too important to risk in the hands of a sorceress.”
Kirra couldn’t help herself; she flicked a glance up toward Casserah’s end of the table, to see if her sister had heard any of this. But Casserah had motioned one of the footmen over and was speaking quietly in his ear. He bowed and left, and Casserah turned back to give the whole table her usual sleepy smile.
“I’ve had a special treat ordered,” she said. “It’s a fruit and cream concoction, and you won’t believe how delicious it is. I had it last winter at Erin Sohta’s and I made her give me the recipe. So next time you see her, you’ll have to tell her how much you loved it.”
“I had a cake at Erin’s last spring,” someone said. “She must have the best cook in Danalustrous.”
“Better steal him for the Hall,” someone else called out.
Casserah smiled. “No, I shall keep my own cook and steal all her recipes. Much better.”
Similar banter followed as they awaited the arrival of dessert. There was a step outside the door and the steward came through, bowing very low to Casserah. Kirra saw two footmen and two guards in the hall, and she sat up hastily, alarm tingling up her spine.
“Carlo,” Casserah said, her voice not raised at all from its usual calm cadence, “Chalfrey Mallon is leaving. Help him pack his clothing and see that he’s escorted to his parents’ house. He won’t be back to Danan Hall.”
Shock held the occupants of the room absolutely silent. Carlo bowed in the young man’s direction. “My lord,” he said, his voice hushed with respect. “When you’re ready.”
The young lord was gaping at Casserah. “Serra! What did—I—no, I’m not leaving! What have I
done
?”
Casserah’s face showed its usual smooth serenity, but her voice was icy. “You spoke slightingly of my sister. That will never be tolerated in Danan Hall.”
Chalfrey Mallon shot a look of pure venom in Kirra’s direction, then scrambled to his feet. “Serra! It is true I fear the influence of a mystic on the House Danalustrous, but I will not apologize for that! No, and I am not the only lord to feel that way. But I would never speak out against
you,
against marlord Malcolm—my heart is dedicated to the House Danalustrous. From now till I die.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Casserah said coolly. “You will show that dedication from your parents’ estate, for you will not be welcome back here. Carlo?”
The steward came close enough to lay a hand on the young lord’s arm, though he bowed again as he did so. “If you’ll come with me—”
Chalfrey shook off Carlo’s hand and strode to the door, his cheeks red with anger or humiliation.
Or both,
thought Kirra,
and that’s a bad combination.
He stopped at the doorway.
“I will never honor a mystic, serra,” he said in a low voice. “But you use me cruelly if you think I will ever have anything except love and admiration for you.” He bowed to her, so low his hair swept the floor, and marched out of the room. His footsteps were swallowed by the tramp of the guards’ feet as they accompanied him down the hall.
No one at the table could think of a thing to say. Kirra felt as if everyone in the room was straining to recall anything they had uttered that was even remotely uncomplimentary to Kirra in particular or mystics in general. She wondered if she should make a remark—to thank Casserah, to exonerate Chalfrey Mallon—but her mind was empty. No one else seemed willing to break the silence.
Fortunately, within a minute one of the servants returned, bearing a platter of berries and cream. He set it down in front of Casserah to the accompaniment of rather too enthusiastic oohs and aahs.
“Excellent,” Casserah said, and her smile was mischievous. “Now there will be more for the rest of us.”
CHAPTER
10
K
IRRA had thought her father might be displeased by Casserah’s show of family loyalty, but, in fact, he seemed to think she had done exactly the right thing. “The Mallons are always testing me, hunting for a weakness,” he said to his daughters as they gathered in his study once the breakfast was over. “It is wearisome. They can be powerful allies, but they expect too much indulgence. It is good that you made it clear from the outset that you will not tolerate their disobedience.”
“But she’s made an enemy!” Kirra exclaimed. She had flung herself into one of the wing-backed chairs before the window and let all her muscles finally release their accumulated tension. “He will not forgive the public insult.”
“I won’t forgive the insult to my sister,” Casserah said. Her voice was as serene as ever. She might have been discussing whether to serve milk or tea with the noon meal.
“But if his parents turn against you—”
“They can lose their property,” Malcolm reminded her. He was leaning against a heavy table, facing his daughters. He looked just as relaxed as Casserah, though a little more serious. “They hold it in trust for me. It is not theirs by right.”
“They’ve held it for two hundred years! I think they
do
think it is theirs by right! Is this really the time to be antagonizing the Thirteenth House?”
“Is this really the time to give in to the fears of weak and superstitious men?” Malcolm countered gently. “You would know we were right if you were not the source of contention.”
“You don’t have to prove to me that you will not cast me aside,” Kirra said in a low voice. “I know that. I am not afraid.”
“You’re not the one we were proving it to,” Malcolm said.
There was a little silence after that. Malcolm appeared to be thinking something over. Kirra waited to hear what it might be. Casserah, leaning back in her own chair, seemed equally content to sit in silence or engage in conversation. She was not merely pretending to be unruffled by the morning’s events; she was genuinely unmoved.
At last Malcolm stirred and stood away from the desk. “I have been looking through the many invitations we have received for receptions to be held over the next few months,” he said. “Kianlever, Coravann, Nocklyn, and Rappengrass are all gearing up to be very social. I think perhaps it is wise if we attend a few of these events.”
“No,” Casserah said. “I don’t want to go.”
His eyes were on his youngest daughter. “It is you they will want to see,” he said, “now that you have been named my heir. They will want to know which way Danalustrous leans if there is a rebellion.”
“We lean against rebellion altogether,” Casserah said. “Write and tell them that when you tell them I won’t be coming.”
“Kirra thinks we cannot stand aside from war, if war comes.”
Casserah gave her sister a quick sideways look. “That’s because Kirra has a temper herself.”
“I don’t know,” Malcolm said. “She might be right. In any case, the other Houses need to see that Danalustrous can be gracious and visible. They need to have a chance to make themselves friendly with the new heir.”
“I’m not going to all these stupid balls,” Casserah said.
“No,” Malcolm said. “But I was thinking perhaps Kirra might go. Styling herself as you.”
Kirra sat up in her chair. “What?”
Casserah clapped her hands together, laughing. “Oh yes! I like that idea very much.”
Kirra felt doubtful. “I don’t know if I could pull that off. To pretend to be Casserah for days at a time? I don’t know.”
“You mean, physically you can’t do it?” Malcolm asked. “You can’t retain the shape so long?”
“Oh, no, that’s not the problem. It’s playing the part. It’s acting like Casserah and saying what Casserah would say.”
Her sister gave her an abstracted look from those indifferent, wide-set eyes. “You know me better than anybody does,” Casserah said. “I trust you to portray me accurately.”
“You’d trust Donnal to portray you if it meant you didn’t have to go to the balls,” Kirra retorted. Casserah merely smiled.
“She’s right,” Malcolm said to Kirra. “It’s unlikely you will make a slip.”
“I don’t know who you know and who you don’t!” Kirra exclaimed. “I could come across fifty people in Kianlever alone that you’ve met casually at some function or another, and they’ll think you know them and I’ll think you don’t! Or—just as likely!—I’ll come across someone that
I
know, but you’ve never met, and I’ll start talking to her as if we’re old friends.”