He couldn’t clear his throat in mind-voice, but he managed a combination of eagerness and diffidence. :I don’t suppose you would care for me to come up instead?:
He heard the purr in her mind-voice, and almost tangled his own feet together, trying to whip himself around and head for the stairs. :Ah, yes. Indeed I would. Please, do.:
13
The journey back up to the Palace was surreal. Dreamlike, as the four of them made their way through peace-filled, cool air scented with honeysuckle. Alberich held onto the moment fiercely; no matter what had happened in the past, or what would happen in the future, he’d had this night, this time. His heart was, for the moment, at peace, and he could not have been more content with his lot. He hoped—he thought—Myste felt the same.
They parted with a touch of lips and hands at the branching of paths, one leading up to the Heralds’ Wing at the Palace, the other to the salle. He and Kantor moved off into the velvet night.
:I told you that you were worrying too much,: Kantor said, when he and Alberich were finally settled back in their respective “beds,” in, and beside, the salle.
:Hmm. You were right.: Still—no, there was no “still.” Kantor was right. The benefit of being Gifted; there was no question of how one’s partner felt. There had been a little initial fumbling, but—
No “buts.”
He sighed, and started to settle into sleep—
Then something popped up into his mind and jolted him into wakefulness again. :Now, why did she tell you “Thank you, you were right”—?:
:Ah. You weren’t supposed to hear that.: Kantor sighed. :I gave her some advice, some time back. Through her Companion, of course, but she knew it was from me, because she asked me directly.:
:Yes?: He decided that, no matter what it was, he wasn’t going to be annoyed. After all, look what it had gotten him.
:I told her, “He won’t make the first move; you’ll have to. And don’t be subtle. In this situation, he’s trying so hard to be a gentleman that he won’t notice if you’re subtle.” But if you’re wondering, I don’t think this was planned; I think she just seized the opportunity when it was too good to be passed up. I know she’s felt diffident about approaching you here, in your own place, and more than a bit shy about inviting you up to the Collegium where—:
:Where everyone would notice and gossip.: Alberich finished for him, and mulled it all over. No, he definitely was not going to be annoyed. :Thank you. You were right.:
Of course, now that the first move had been made in the game. . . .
He chuckled to himself in the darkness. The next time she showed up here, it wasn’t all going to be business. Not that he was going to forget his duty, far from it.
Now he did let his doubly-tired body relax. And his last thought was, perhaps not oddly, Norris is a fool.
***
Selenay sat at her open window, and breathed in the honeysuckle-scented air dreamily. Karath—he had insisted almost immediately that she call him Karath—had been officially presented at Court two days ago. He had gone out of his way to be charming, and Selenay was by no means the only one to have been affected by that charm. But his attention had been directed, like a focused beam of light, on her.
This was not the first time that she had been the focus of someone’s attention, but it was the first time the attention had been completely positive, and universally directed to the sole object of pleasing her. Heady stuff.
And it didn’t hurt at all that Karath was so very good to look upon. . . .
No, not at all. But there was more, as impossible as it seemed. Karath understood her.
It was magical, how well he understood her. Already they had shared commiserations on how heavy the burden of duty was for a royal child, and how unfair it was that they had less freedom than the lowest of their subjects. How very unfair. . . .
And he had looked straight into her eyes and said, “It is a sad pity that you have no one to share your burden with.”
Oh, she had laughed at that, and demurred that she had an entire Council to help her, but his words had rung very true, and she wondered if there was something behind them. As if—could it be—
No, of course not. He’s a Prince of Rethwellan. If he can charm me into giving Rethwellan advantages, he will. He may even be courting me with an eye to a marriage of state. Right now, though, he’s simply being friendly; he’s a Prince, and there can’t be too many people that he can confide in. It isn’t as if he has a Companion to talk to, or even someone like Lord Orthallen. He was, she thought, a very proud young man. It would be hard for him to confide in anyone that he considered below him. Yes, that is certainly it. She rested her head against the window frame, feeling suddenly melancholy, for herself, for him.
No, there could be nothing more to it than that. Besides, he can’t possibly stay for very long. He’ll have to return home soon.
The thought made her feel cheated, somehow, and even more melancholy.
But after a moment, she shook it off resolutely. The Seneschal had decided that having a Prince of the blood here was an occasion of great import, and had arranged that his days should be enlivened by all manner of amusements, and that it was Selenay’s duty to take part in at least some of them. The Vernal Equinox was in a few days, and although it was the wrong season for hunting, it was the best season for other sorts of outdoor excursions. They were all going to watch a new version of the Hurlee game, played Companion-back by the oldest of the Trainees. Others had been trying to come up with warm-weather variations on Hurlee, but this was by far the most exciting and successful. And there were those who were trying to get horses to do what the Companions were doing, but it would probably take a couple of years to train horses to put up with balls rolling under their hooves and sticks whizzing about their ears. For now, at least, the only mounted version of the game would be played by Heralds or Trainees.
It made an excellent excuse to sit out on lawns, with hampers of refreshments, in the warm sunshine, rather than in the stuffy Audience Chamber, listening to even stuffier old men complain about each other.
There would be supper in a pavilion on the lawns after the game, and then, a concert of music under the stars in the gardens. It will be the most fun I’ve had since the Ice Festival. Actually, it will be much more fun than the Ice Festival; I won’t be on show to an entire city.
She smiled as she thought about it. To think that she would have most of a day devoted to something other than Kingdom business! But her Councilors all seemed very much in favor of the idea, even those who were reserved in their assessment of Karath.
Maybe he will stay longer. . . .
After all, Orthallen was convinced that he had come here with every intention of courting her. It was a time-honored means of cementing alliances, marriage. He was the younger Prince; he wouldn’t be in line for the throne at this point, not even if his older brother died, because Faramentha already had a young son of his own. So—