She never once called her mistress Casserah in private or Kirra in public, and Kirra had a healthy respect for both her intelligence and her devotion by the time they finally arrived at Ghosenhall. A short ride through the bright, crowded streets of the royal city, and they arrived at the palace compound. The warm granite and tall turrets of the palace were guarded by high walls and a visible ring of guards.
Casserah Danalustrous, of course, quickly made it through the various checkpoints and was welcomed at the door by the king’s steward himself. Milo bowed very low while servants began unloading luggage from the coach.
“Serra,” said the portly man as he straightened up. “It is good to have you here. We so rarely see you at the palace.”
“I know,” Kirra said in Casserah’s voice. She had dozed through the last stage of the journey, but she was wide-awake now, energized with the anticipation of playacting. It had all been very easy up to this point; she had to be extremely alert from here on out. One of the things to remember was that Casserah never made unnecessary conversation. Short answers, just complete enough to avoid being rude, characterized her sister’s speech. Still, Kirra thought even Casserah might add a phrase or two to that bald statement. So she said, “It is good to be here.”
Milo motioned her escort to the care of palace guards, then led the rest of them through the gorgeous hallways of the palace. “We have reserved a suite for you in the eastern wing,” he told her. “A handful of other guests are staying with us as well. There is a dinner tonight—not very fancy—and then in two days, a much larger banquet. We hope you will attend both of these.”
“Of course.”
Her suite, when they finally arrived, was restfully appointed in soft blues and golds. Melly would have not just her own bed, but a small room all to herself.
“It is acceptable for my dog to stay with me?” Kirra asked, gesturing at Donnal, who had soundlessly accompanied them through the corridors.
Milo didn’t even glance down. “Of course, serra.”
“If he causes any disturbance, in the kitchen or elsewhere, let me know and I’ll confine him to my room,” she added. That was for Donnal’s benefit. She kept her face serious, though it was an effort not to laugh.
“I’m sure he’ll be no trouble, serra.”
He showed Melly the various features of the room, then bowed to Kirra again at the door. “The king asked me to tell you he would be happy for a private conference with you, once you were settled in,” he said. “Sometime before dinner.”
“Of course,” she said. “May I have an hour to refresh myself?”
“I will send someone to you then.”
He was almost out the door when Kirra called out a question. “Senneth Brassenthwaite—is she still staying at the palace?”
“Yes. She will be here until she leaves to accompany the princess to Kianlever.”
Kirra could not hide her pleasure. “Senneth is attending the ball at Kianlever Court! That should be entertaining.” Milo put an expression of polite interest on his face. Kirra said somewhat hastily, “She has a reputation for not enjoying opulence. It has been years since I have seen her, of course. But I am hoping to renew our acquaintance.”
“We have put her in the green suite down the hall,” Milo said, pointing. “You may visit with her when you like.”
But Senneth was not in her room when Kirra hurried down to knock. Unlike Kirra, she wasn’t burdened with servants, either, so there was no one to predict when Senneth might return. Not that Kirra had much time to waste, anyway. She had to submit to Melly’s ministrations and make herself fit to meet with her king.
BARYN was a tall, thin, wispy-haired man who looked more like someone’s eccentric uncle than king of the realm. “Serra Casserah,” he said, greeting her with a handshake instead of the hug he would have given Kirra. “I was so pleased when we got your father’s note that you were coming. It has been too long since I’ve seen you.”
She swept him a curtsey as perfect as any Casserah would have managed. “My father tells me I must learn to be more sociable,” she said solemnly. “I confess, I am not always at ease with other people.”
“No, they can be most trying,” the king agreed. “And yet friendship between Houses is good for the realm. So any effort you make would be likely to pay you back twelvefold.”
Kirra allowed a small smile to come to her face; he might interpret it as skeptical if he liked. “Yes, majesty.”
“Come! Sit down! Tell me what you have been doing with yourself. Malcolm’s note contains other interesting news.”
Kirra took a seat in a straight-backed chair that faced the king’s settee. “Is it possible he wrote you about the next heir of Danalustrous?” she wondered.
Baryn laughed. “Indeed, he did! I was surprised—and not surprised. My instinct tells me he made an excellent choice, but I worry about the reaction of your sister. I would not want her to be unhappy. Kirra is one of those rare people whose very presence brings me joy.”
That was certainly nice to hear. But how to answer this question as Casserah would? “I appreciate your concern for my sister, majesty,” she said in a cool voice. “But I assure you, you need not fear for her. She may not own Danalustrous, but Danalustrous owns her, and Danalustrous never gives up what belongs to it. She is ours still. She just has more freedom now to roam as far as she likes before she returns home.”
He smiled. “Elegantly said. You reassure me.”
“I am glad to hear that with so much else to occupy you, you still have time to think about my sister and her heart.”
At that, he sighed. “I’m certain she told you of her latest adventure on my behalf?”
Kirra nodded. “I assume the regent made it safely home once they parted on the road?”
“Yes, although—”
His sudden pause made Kirra want to sit up straighter in alarm. But Casserah would never do that. “Did something else happen to him?” she asked in Casserah’s incurious voice.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. There was an incident one day when he was riding, but it could have been accidental. I have urged him to double his personal guards, but Romar is not a man who likes to be confined and overprotected. He has many, many strengths, but excessive caution is not one of them.”
“It still is not entirely clear to me,” Kirra said, her voice calm though her heart was pounding, “why anyone would want to harm him. Would you not just install another regent?”
“Would I not find it difficult to find someone willing to accept such a post if his predecessor had been murdered?” Baryn countered. “Unless the man I chose had been selected for me by, say, a consortium of marlords with some interest in the succession. Then I believe my regent would have a reasonable chance of survival.”
“Who is behind the attacks on Romar Brendyn?” she asked. “Do you know? My sister came back with strange and brutal tales of Halchon Gisseltess, but—”
“But it seems a little obvious for him, doesn’t it? Besides, he has been confined to Gissel Plain for several months, with a troop of my own guards stationed on his estates to watch him. In theory, one of my men reads every letter that passes into or out of his house. In practice, I am sure he has ways of communicating with friends who are not entirely friendly to me. And yet Halchon does not seem like the kind of man to waste his time with a subordinate. If he were going to assassinate someone, I would expect him to come directly after me.”
Kirra felt her eyes widen. “Do you think he will?”
“Eventually.”
“Then, sire! Take steps now to rid yourself of the threat!”
Baryn looked rueful. “Yes, Romar says the same thing. But I cannot find it in me to execute a man merely on the suspicion that he might want to do me harm. I am not ruthless enough.”
“My father would,” she said. “If he thought someone was trying to harm me. Or Danalustrous. He would take action.”
“Yes, one of the many things I admire about Malcolm. Such a single-minded man.”
“It would seem to make sense to be single-minded about preserving your own life.”
Baryn spread his hands in a gentle gesture. “If I try to confine Halchon, what kind of turmoil do I loose in the realm? If he is blocked, who else might rise up to confront me? I am trying not to precipitate events that I cannot control. Instead, I am trying to prepare for eventualities and put safeguards in place. Much less spectacular. Perhaps less effective. Who knows? It is the way I have chosen.”
Kirra had no answer for that, though she imagined Casserah might have argued the point. In any case, she had no time to reply because the door opened and two women stepped inside. Kirra was instantly on her feet, making another curtsey, because although Casserah had never met either of them, everyone in the kingdom would recognize both: the king’s wife, Valri, and his daughter, Amalie.
Valri stopped on the threshold, her hand still on the doorknob, and looked displeased for a moment. She was a small and exquisitely beautiful woman, black-haired and white-skinned, with eyes of such an amazing green they were impossible to look away from. The king’s second wife, Valri was about Kirra’s age and highly mysterious; nobody knew a thing about her background. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a visitor,” she said. She sounded, Kirra thought in some amusement, even more ungracious than Casserah could. “I was coming to see if you were ready for dinner.”
Baryn motioned both women into the room. “Indeed, yes, I was just about to suggest that we go down to the dining hall. My dear, do you know Casserah Danalustrous? Malcolm’s youngest daughter.”
“Oh. No, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Valri hesitated, then came close enough to hold out her hand. “I like your sister very much.”
Surprising, if true, but perhaps it was just her attempt to be civil. “Majesty,” Kirra said, curtseying again. “How good to meet you.”
“And this is Amalie, whom you may not have ever met,” Baryn said. His voice was filled with pride and affection. “She’s a little shy, because she has never gone out much in public, but she’s been joining us at our balls and dinners lately. Amalie, this is Casserah.”
“Serra,” Amalie said in a soft voice.
Kirra repeated the curtsey, and then bestowed a genuine smile on the girl. Kirra herself had not seen the princess since Amalie was a little girl. It would not be rude to take a moment to assess her now, she thought, and so she did. The first thing anyone would notice about Amalie was her hair, a thick red-blond that was arranged in a very simple style, loose on her shoulders. Her face was thin, not entirely filled out, dominated by large brown eyes and marked with an expression of great sweetness. She looked nervous and eager to please, but she did not look stupid, Kirra thought. Her big eyes were watchful and her generous mouth looked as if it could be pressed tightly shut if she did not want to speak a secret. She was dressed in a plain gown that didn’t do much to hide the gawkiness of her eighteen-year-old body, but Kirra thought Amalie would grow into a beautiful young woman.
But a good queen? Impossible to tell.
“Princess,” Kirra replied. “What a great pleasure. My sister will be so jealous that I had a chance to visit with you.”
“Tell Kirra to come back to us, and she shall have breakfast with the princess every day,” Baryn said. “That should be incentive enough, don’t you think?”
Kirra smiled. “It’s hard to ever guess what will appeal to Kirra.”
“I don’t think you’re very like her,” Valri observed in her abrupt way.
Kirra shot her a quick glance. “No? And yet I am very close to her.” Ah, great gods, she could hardly say that without laughing.
No one was required to answer that, for there was another knock at the door. This time it was Milo with the news that dinner was ready to be served. “The other guests are gathered, liege,” Milo said. “Shall I tell them to wait the meal?”
“No, no, we’re all done here,” Baryn said briskly, rising to his feet. “Come, my love, my dear—and serra—let us hurry down before all our guests expire of hunger.”
Indeed, there were perhaps two dozen people awaiting them in a small salon attached to one of the more informal of the palace’s many dining rooms. Kirra quickly identified the ones she knew and then subtracted the ones that Casserah did
not
know and concluded she would have to be introduced to almost everyone in attendance. She spotted Senneth on the far side of the room, talking quietly to an older woman in a dark green gown, and she felt a sudden unreasonable pang that she could not rush up to the other mystic and give her an excited hug.
Senneth, Senneth, I want to hear everything about your trip to Brassenthwaite! And wait till I tell you about my journey to Tilt!
But Senneth and Casserah were hardly more than acquaintances—and anyway, Casserah didn’t run up and hug anybody. And Senneth would have no idea who she really was. The confidences would have to wait.