Serai let out a small gasp.
Amara turned, frowning, to find the tiny courtesan staring at her with her mouth open.
"Amara," Serai accused. "You're his lover."
"What?" Amara said. "That isn't what-"
"Don't bother trying to deny it," Serai said. "You were looking at him out there, weren't you?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Amara asked.
"I saw your eyes," Serai said. "When you called him Bernard. He was out there doing something manly, wasn't he?"
Amara felt her face heat up again. "How did you-"
"I know these things, darling," she said airily. "It's what I do." The little woman crossed the room to stare out the window at the courtyard, and arched an eyebrow. "Which is he?"
"Green tunic," Amara supplied, stepping back from the window. "Loading the gargant. Dark hair, beard, a little grey in them."
"My," said Serai. "But hardly old. Went silver early, I'd say. That's always attractive in a man. It means he has both power enough to have responsibilities and conscience enough to worry over them. And-" She paused and blinked. "He's rather strong, isn't he?"
"He is," Amara said. "And his archery is amazing."
Serai gave her an oblique look. "I know it's petty and typical, but there is an undeniable, primal attraction in a man of strength. Wouldn't you agree?"
Amara's face burned. "Well. Yes. It suits him." She took a breath. "And he can be so gentle."
Serai gave her a dismayed look. "Oh, my. It's worse than I feared. You're not his lover. You're in love."
"I'm not," Amara said. "I mean. I see him fairly often. I've been Gaius's courier to the region since Second Calderon and…" Her voice trailed off. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever been in love."
Serai turned her back to the window. Over her shoulder, Amara could see Bernard giving directions to a pair of men hitching up heavy work horses to a wagon of supplies, then checking the beast's hooves. "Do you see him often enough?" Serai asked.
"I… I wouldn't mind being near him more."
"Mmmhmm," she said. "What do you like best about him?"
"His hands," Amara said at once. The answer came out before she'd had time to think it through. She felt herself blush again. "They're strong. The skin a little rough. But warm and gentle."
"Ah," said Serai.
"Or his mouth," Amara blurted. "I mean, his eyes are a lovely color, but his mouth is… I mean, he can…"
"He knows how to kiss," Serai said.
Amara stammered to a silence and simply nodded.
"Well," Serai said, "at this point, I think it's safe to say that you know what love feels like."
Amara bit her lip. "You really think that?"
The courtesan smiled, something wistful in it. "Of course, darling."
Amara watched the courtyard as a pair of boys, no more than six or seven years of age, leapt from hiding places in the wagon to Bernard's back. The big man roared in feigned outrage, and went spinning around for a few moments as though trying to reach them, until the boys lost their grips and fell to the ground, lurching dizzily and laughing. Bernard grinned at them, ruffled their hair, and sent them on the way with a wave of his hand. Amara found herself smiling.
Serai's voice became lower and very gentle. "You must leave him, of course."
Amara felt her spine stiffen. She stared past the other woman, out the window.
"You are a Cursor," Serai said. "One with the trust of the First Lord himself. And you have sworn your life to his service."
"I know that," Amara said. "But-"
Serai shook her head. "Amara, you can't do that to him if you truly love him. Bernard is a peer of the Realm, now. He has duties, responsibilities. One of them will be to take a wife. A wife whose first loyalty will be to him."
Amara stared at Bernard and the two children. Her vision suddenly blurred with hot tears.
"He has duties," Serai said, her voice compassionate, but resolute. "And among them is the duty to sire children so that the furycraft in his blood will strengthen the Realm."
"And I was blighted," Amara whispered. She pressed her hand against her lower belly, and could almost feel the nearly invisible scars from the pockmarks the disease had left. She tasted bitter bile on her tongue. "I can't give him children."
Serai shook her head and turned to stare out the window down at the courtyard. Frederic herded a second pair of enormous gargants into the yard and began hitching up their cargo harnesses with Bernard, while other holders came and went in a constant stream, placing sacks and boxes on the ground to be loaded on the beasts once they were ready. Then Serai stood on tiptoe, and gently drew down the shade.
"I'm sorry, darling."
"I never thought it through," Amara said. More tears fell. "I mean. I was just so happy, and I never…"
"Love is a fire, Amara. Draw it too close and be burned." Serai stepped over to Amara and touched her cheek with the back of her hand. "You know what you must do."
"Yes."
"Then best to make it quick. Clean." Serai sighed. "I know what I'm talking about. I'm so sorry, darling."
Amara closed her eyes and leaned her head miserably against Serai's touch. She couldn't stop the tears. She didn't try.
"So much is happening, and all at once," Serai said after a moment. "It can't be a coincidence. Can it?"
Amara shook her head. "I don't think it can."
"Furies," Serai breathed. Her expressive eyes looked haunted.
"Serai," Amara said quietly, "I believe there is a real threat to the Realm here. I'm going to stay."
Serai blinked up at her. "Darling, of course you're going to stay. I don't need a bodyguard who is pining over a man like this-you're useless to me."
Amara choked on a small roll of laughter that came up through her at Serai's words, and she folded her arms around the courtesan in a tight hug. "Will you be all right?"
"Of course, darling," Serai said. But though her voice was warm, amused, Amara felt the little courtesan trembling. Serai probably felt Amara's shivering in return.
Amara drew back, her hands on Serai's shoulders, and met her gaze. "Duty. The vord may be inside the capital. More killers are probably looking for the Steadholder even now. Cursors are being murdered. And if the Crown doesn't send reinforcements to the local garrison, more holders and legionares are going to die. Likely me with them."
Serai's eyes closed for a moment, and she bobbed her head in a brief nod. "I know. But… Amara, I'm afraid… afraid I am not suited for this kind of situation. I work in grand halls and bedchambers with wine and perfume. Not in dark alleyways with cloaks and knives. I don't like knives. I don't even own a knife. And my cloaks are far too expensive to risk bloodying."
Amara gently squeezed her shoulders, smiling. "Well. Perhaps it will not come to that."
Serai gave Amara a shaky smile. "I should hope not. It would be most awkward." She shook her head and smoothed the anxiety from her expression. "Look at you, Amara. So tall and strong now. Nothing like the farm girl I saw flying over the sea."
"It seems so long ago," Amara said.
Serai nodded, and touched a stray hair back from her cheek. Her expression became businesslike. "Shall we?"
Amara lifted her hand and the pressure of Cirrus's warding vanished. "Isana should be ready to leave shortly. Be cautious and swift, Serai. We are running out of time."