“These were from Gisseltess,” Tayse said. “The regent sent for them as soon as we discovered Halchon was here—last night. The soldiers were already on their way. They had left as soon as they realized he was missing. Romar Brendyn’s messenger found them on the road, a half day out from Nocklyn.”
“Did they explain how he had evaded them to begin with?” Valri asked coldly. “The king will want an accounting of that.”
Tayse gave her an unreadable look. “I’m sure some trickery was involved. Halchon Gisseltess is a man who does not mind using subterfuge. And I doubt the soldiers had been given orders to kill, which would restrict their ability to hamper him. I’m guessing their assignment there was largely ceremonial. I expect that will change.”
“Wasn’t Romar wonderful?” Amalie exclaimed. “So fierce and unafraid. I was never so proud of him.”
Kirra agreed silently; Senneth did so aloud. “Indeed, yes, he played his part perfectly,” Senneth said. “The king’s champion. That one act will go a long way toward convincing the marlords he will be an excellent regent.”
“If we need a regent,” Valri said swiftly.
“Yes,” Senneth acknowledged. “If we need one.”
“What now?” Kirra asked. “Are the Gisseltess men really under guard? Do they go back to Gissel Plain or on to Ghosenhall for punishment?”
“Under guard and on to Ghosenhall,” Tayse said. “Some of the king’s men, and some of the Merrenstow guard, will accompany them.”
“And we go on to Rappengrass?” Justin asked.
“Of course,” Amalie said.
Donnal spoke up. “Is the princess safer or more in danger now that Halchon Gisseltess is under guard again?”
Tayse’s eyes were on Amalie. “I think we must always assume she is in some kind of danger, and prepare ourselves accordingly.”
“I don’t think she’s the only one,” Cammon said. All eyes turned in his direction, and everyone wore a questioning look. “The only one in danger,” Cammon clarified. “I think Romar should be guarded, too.”
Justin laughed. “He seems well able to handle himself.”
Cammon shook his head. “He takes risks. And he’s a target. And there is—there’s a sort of hatred directed toward him. I can feel it all the time, all around him. Senneth might be right—what he did tonight might make people believe he will be a very strong regent. But that will just put him in more danger. I think there are plenty of people who don’t want to see a strong regent behind the throne. And he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who is willing to guard his back.”
Valri threw her hands in the air. “So we must spend our energy protecting
him
as well? We hardly have the resources to keep Amalie safe! If she won’t go back to Ghosenhall, then send
Romar
back. We can’t afford any distractions!”
The rest of them laughed at that, though Kirra could tell Valri was not entirely jesting. Truth to tell, Kirra was in sympathy with the young queen, and she believed Cammon was right. There had been ample evidence that
someone
would be happy to see the regent dead, and equal proof that Romar disdained to take extraordinary precautions. A bad combination. She could already feel herself starting to worry.
“The regent seems like a reasonable man,” Senneth said. “I think if we explain to him our concerns, he will be willing to show some circumspection. And perhaps we just include him in our watchful circle. Donnal, you and Cammon are always aware of dangers that threaten the rest of us—expand your awareness to include the regent as well. Tayse, Justin, you and the Riders keep tabs on him. Amalie—”
“I will tell him to be careful,” the princess said sunnily. “He will do it for me. He knows how much I value him.”
I will ask him, too,
Kirra thought.
For I do not think he would want to make me live without him.
THEY did not talk much longer. The hour was so late by this time that they had no hope of getting on the road tomorrow before noon if they were to get any amount of sleep before they left. One contingent stayed behind in Amalie’s room. The rest of them stepped into the hall and exchanged a few more words before seeking their own places.
“You will sleep at the princess’s window again tonight?” Kirra asked Donnal. She watched idly as Tayse gave instructions to Hammond, the Rider now stationed outside Amalie’s door. Justin and Cammon disappeared into their own room, both of them yawning.
Donnal nodded. “Tonight and every night. I think she likes to know I’m there.”
Kirra smiled and put a hand to his cheek. “Such knowledge cannot help but make her sleep more soundly,” she said. “I always dreamed more easily knowing you were nearby.”
He smiled back at her, but his dark eyes were sad. “I am still near you, serra,” he replied. “Never doubt that. Not even for a princess, not even for a queen, would I abandon you.”
For a moment she thought she might cry. “You must be so tired,” was all she could bring herself to say. “You can sleep tomorrow in the coach.”
“We both can,” he said. And without another word, he changed himself into an owl and went skimming through the narrow corridors. Kirra did not watch long enough to see what aperture he found that let him out into the night air and back to the sill at Amalie’s window.
She stopped in her own room just long enough to change out of her ballgown and freshen her face. Melly stirred but did not wake up, and Kirra left her a note:
I have business to take care of. I will be gone much of the night. Do not worry if I am not here in the morning.
Ridiculous that she should have to reassure a maid. She was not used to being answerable to anyone. She was not used to being so closely watched.
She was not used to assignations in the dead of night, either, but she thought she might find herself getting accustomed to the stealth and the lying.
Still in human form, she glided from her room, nodded at Hammond, and tiptoed down the stairs. The ballroom was almost entirely empty by now, though Kirra caught sight of a few revelers still clustered together in the middle of the floor as maids cleaned around them. She crept down the servants’ hallway and outside, pausing a moment to enjoy the fresh night air against her skin. Then she made her way farther out, past the kitchen gardens to the decorative flower gardens some distance from the house. It was too dark to admire roses and hollyhocks, but she sat on a stone bench and watched the upper-level windows of the house. She was guessing Romar was still out settling Halchon’s men or conferring with Colton, and indeed the window to his room was dark. She would wait there and dream by starlight until he was ready for her to come to him.
She had been in place about twenty minutes when she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving across the lawn. Her first reaction was fear—another assassin, sent for Romar or Amalie—because the shape moved with the muscular certainty of a born soldier. But then the shadow drew closer and assumed familiar proportions, and she realized it was Tayse, out doing his nightly patrol.
A smile of undiluted mischief shaped her mouth.
Silently, swiftly, she rearranged her features, stretched her spine, colored her hair, until she was the exact image of Senneth. Rising, she crossed the lawn to intersect Tayse while he was still a few steps away from the garden. She made no effort at concealment, and he spotted her instantly, coming to a halt and waiting for her. She stepped close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, close enough to kiss him if she would.
“Tayse,” she said, in Senneth’s voice. “The night is so cool and beautiful. Come into the garden with me for just an hour or two. Everyone in our care will be safe that long.”
His unreadable face was even harder to decipher by thin moonlight. “I wish I could,” he said, sounding suitably regretful. “But I’m afraid your father would have me dismembered and Senneth would set her brothers on me if I transgressed so far.”
She laughed and let her hand fall. “How did you know?” she demanded. “I am perfect in every detail! And you can hardly even see my face in this light.”
“Your hand is cool,” he said. Despite his unmoved expression, she had the feeling he was deeply amused. “Senneth’s skin is always warm.”
“Damn,” she said. “I can’t manufacture heat.”
“You are dangerous enough without that particular weapon.”
She laughed again. Despite the fact that Tayse had not fallen for her deception, she was happy and excited, pleased with the whole world. “Still,” she invited. “You could come back to the gardens with me. You could pretend you didn’t know. Senneth could hardly blame you for loving someone who looked so much like her.”
He studied her a moment from his dark eyes. “I think you have already embarked on enough forbidden romances to waste any effort trying to seduce me,” he said.
It was like a slap across the cheek; it was like a father’s reprimand. It caused her to step back a pace and lose much of her happy mood as she returned to her true form. “I wasn’t serious,” she said.
“I was,” he replied. “You’re setting up camp in dangerous territory, Kirra, if you think to keep Romar Brendyn as your lover.”
She couldn’t believe it.
Tayse
, who could scarcely be forced to offer a personal opinion, giving her a lecture on the most private relationship of her life. But she was not the type to meekly endure a scold. “That’s richly ironic,” she said hotly, “coming from you. The man who took as his lover a woman forbidden to him by any consideration of class or standing. I would think you would be most understanding of someone who loved where it was most likely she would find despair.”
“The difference is, Senneth was free to love me back if she so chose,” Tayse said solemnly. “The difference is, I could hurt no one but myself by loving Senneth. Your infatuation with Romar Brendyn could ensnarl two Houses in conflict and break three hearts. Don’t think I value your own heart any less when I say it is not worth that price.”
“You wouldn’t have given her up,” she said very low. “If Senneth was married. If she was married to Halchon Gisseltess, as she could have been, and you had met her and fallen in love with her. You would not have closed your own heart and walked on by.”
He was silent a moment. “No,” he said at last. “If I had found Senneth as the marlord’s wife, desperate to escape, I would have done what I could to aid her. I would have helped her, and loved her, and I wouldn’t have cared what punishment might have come to me because of it. But I would have been silent about my love, if I thought it would hurt her in any way.”
“That’s not fair,” she said, truly angry now. “Love is about more than
hurting
someone or
not hurting
someone. Love is about joy. And sometimes about sorrow. Love is about great emotion, and it is stronger than any simple rules about right and wrong.”
“That’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to change from human to lion shape and claw him across the chest. He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply; he just kept on speaking. “Love is about caring for another human being so much that anything you do, anything you say, is calculated to keep that person safe. You want Romar Brendyn, and I understand that, but you can’t expect me to be sympathetic. I would never do what you are doing. I would never put someone I loved in harm’s way. I would die silent and alone before I ever did that.”
“You haven’t loved often enough to know what you would do,” she whispered. An unforgivable thing to say.
But he didn’t even wince. “I wouldn’t waste love on anything less.”
She turned away from him, furious and close to tears. “No one—not my father, not my sister, not my friends—has ever told me how to live my life,” she said over her shoulder. “Why would you think I would listen to you?”
“I didn’t,” he said.
It was too much; she could not continue the conversation. She shook her head, put her hands up and waved them in front of her, closed her eyes and felt the blood fluttering under her skin. Good; she would take all that agitation, all that motion, and she would turn herself into a creature of swift nervous energy. She concentrated, she narrowed down, she was small and quivering and restless in the grass. A hummingbird, a creature that could not for a moment stay still. No natural bird of this type would be awake at this hour, but Kirra’s tension was enough to overcome the hummingbird’s sleepy impulses. She trembled into the air, a jewel made for the fitful wind, and hovered over him.