A table was set for two in the center of the room, with several covered plates and wine already in the goblets. She could not see anyone in the room, though an open doorway led away into other chambers. A log fell in the hearth with a fountaining of sparks, drawing Ana’s gaze.
She drew in her breath. Over the mantel, swathed in candlelight, was ci’Recroix’s portrait of Kraljica Marguerite, eerily lifelike. She seemed to gaze back at Ana almost sadly, her mouth open as if she were about to speak.
“Startling, isn’t it? I think it’s the eyes that fascinate me most; you can almost see the firelight glinting in them.”
With the sound of the high-pitched voice, Ana spun around to see the Kraljiki standing by the table. He was dressed casually, in a bashta of yellow silk. She tried to smile and failed. “That painting. . Kraljiki, it was ensorcelled and was responsible for your matarh’s death. I’m certain of it. You can ask the Archigos if you don’t believe me. This. . this was the instrument of your matarh’s death.”
The Kraljiki’s shrug closed her mouth. “Perhaps,” he answered in his high voice. “Or perhaps not. It changes nothing, though. The painting’s exquisite, regardless. Ci’Recroix was a true genius, even if he was also an assassin.”
“You’d keep the painting, knowing what I just told you?”
“Would I cast away the Kralji’s ceremonial sword because it has killed before? It’s not the sword that kills, but the person, Ana.” She shivered at his use of her name. “I took the liberty of having our food served already. Sit-the lamb roast, the chef has assured me, is delight-ful and so moist it will dissolve in your mouth. And if the painting bothers you, then sit here, where the fire will warm your back. .” She heard the scrape of a chair on the floor, and turned away from the painting with a final, lingering glance. She allowed the Kraljiki to seat her. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment before he took his own seat across from her.
She thought then, for a time, that perhaps he had simply invited her to eat with him. As they ate, he spoke of Nessantico, of how he hoped to continue the growth of the Holdings, of how he intended to visit each of the nations within the Holdings as part of a Grand Tour to celebrate his coronation, to travel even to the Hellins across the Strettosei. He spoke of his devotion to Cenzi, how he believed that the Concenzia Faith was the bedrock of the Holdings, but how the Holdings must be prepared to allow within their borders those who had yet to learn the truth of the Faith.
“The Archigos understand this, of course,” Justi said, breaking off a bit of bread, dipping it into the sauce on his plate and tucking it into his mouth. “He served Matarh well, and I expect him to do the same for me until such time as Cenzi calls for him. And after that. . well, he certainly speaks highly of you, and your skills. Only six women have ever been Archigos. Perhaps it’s time for the seventh?”
Ana thought of her shaken faith, of her lost gift, of her uncertainty, and shook her head as she sipped at the wine. “You flatter me, Kraljiki, but I’m not ready for that burden. I don’t know that I’ll ever be.”
“You would rather have A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca ascend to the title?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she answered quickly, then realized how blunt that sounded as Justi laughed.
“Your openness is charming,” he said. “Most people are afraid to speak their thoughts in front of me. But not you. .” He set his goblet down. “So tell me, Ana,” he said. “This Numetodo, Karl ci’Vliomani; does he satisfy you as a lover?”
The shock of his question, so frank and direct, startled her. Her goblet crashed against porcelain and silver as she set it hurriedly down.
“The envoy and I are not lovers, Kraljiki,” she said, swallowing and forcing herself to return his challenging, amused stare. “If this is the quality of the information Commandant ca’Rudka is giving you, then I can understand why the Numetodo have been unjustly detained.”
“Oh, the commandant is very careful to only give me verifiable facts.” Justi’s finger circled the gold-chased rim of his goblet, the thin metal ringing. “I know you were with him when he was arrested; I know you visited him at the Bastida. I was making the natural inference.”
“It would be better for the Holdings if the Kraljiki made his decisions not from inferences but from certain knowledge.”
She thought for a moment that she’d gone too far. His face darkened and lines furrowed the tall brow under his thinning hair. Then he smiled again. “You are undoubtedly correct, Ana,” he said. “So give me that knowledge. You’ve gone to see ci’Vliomani alone, more than once. If you are not lovers in fact, then what is your interest in him, an interest so strong that you would come to me to intercede for him?” He paused, but before she could form a reply, he raised a hand. “No matter; I see it in your face. There is ‘certain knowledge’ in faces, if you know where to look, Ana, and I’ve had much practice with that over the years-and a harsh taskmaster in Matarh to school me. You might not be lovers, but there is an attraction there.”
The words were harder to say than she thought they would be.
“There is,” she admitted. “But attraction doesn’t mean there will be anything more.”
“ ‘Love rarely respects the order of life, but love is not a prerequisite for marriage,’ ” Justi said. “That’s a saying of Matarh’s. She would drag that out whenever she ordered one of her nieces or nephews to marry for the sake of Nessantico. She used it with me when she arranged my own first marriage.” He rose from his seat, the chair scraping against the parquet floor. Ana watched him come around the table to stand behind her chair. His hands stroked her neck, lifting her hair, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “The person I marry would have to understand that I would not be a faithful husband,” she heard him say.
“My appetite is. . large, and while I would certainly continue to do my duty by my wife, I also know she would not be enough for me. But I’m not an unreasonable man. I would not expect faithfulness of her, either, were she to find solace in another’s arms. Not as long as there was sufficient discretion so that no embarrassment came to me.” His fingers trailed down, under the loose collar of her teni’s robe to the nape and down to the slope of her breasts. She sucked in her breath at his touch.
“Do you understand me, Ana?”
Ana stared blindly across the table to his empty seat. She realized her hands were clenched, that she was holding her breath, that she wanted to flee. He is not your vatarh. You don’t have to do this. This is your choice this time, not his.
She nodded silently.
“Good,” Justi said. His hands slid back up, cupping her face. His hands surprised her with their softness, and they held the odor of lav-ender oil. I used to love that scent. .
His hands left her and turned her chair abruptly. He lifted her up, his eyes on hers now. There was fire in his eyes, but no affection. His kiss was ungentle and quick, but she opened her mouth to his tongue as his hands went around her, pulling her to him. She could feel the hair of his mustache and beard, prickling her skin. She moved her face from his with a gasp, making her own arms go around him so that she rested her head on his shoulder. She could see the painting of Kraljica Marguerite over the fireplace; she seemed to gaze almost approvingly to her. The Kraljiki’s hands slid down her back to her buttocks, pressing her against him so that she felt his arousal.
Is this what you want? There was no answer within her.
“I trust I won’t be just a duty with you, Ana,” Justi spoke in her ear.
He released her, taking her hand. She followed him, her eyes on the picture rather than him. The Kraljica’s gaze seemed to follow her as she left the outer room and went into the bedroom beyond.