Ileth nodded.
“You would be a sensation at Court. I could get you an audience with the King. You’d barely have to speak. Galantine women say ‘yes, thank you’ and ‘thank you, but no,’ and list the number and gender of their children. You could get posted to the dragons, not in uniform, but in a similar role to Ottavia. Form your own troupe. They’ve tried bringing Galantine women around the dragons and they about die of fright. They’re no good at all because of the way they’ve been raised. Those Tribals, we don’t trust them; they’re not even Galantines. You speak it, look it; sometimes I wonder”—he lowered his voice even further—“well, I don’t know enough about the Directist purges but we may have to be careful if they ask about your family background. Your name’s a bit of an obstacle, but it’s out of living memory now about.”
Griff slid to the edge of his chair. “If you would join my fliers I can guarantee you a title as lady. A property—not a big one, but it would be all yours. You would see Galia again.”
“I would like . . . that, but I’ve . . . but I’ve reconciled myself to never seeing her again.”
“You can do better, much better, with me. That man of hers, he’s with the Squadron, in a way. He’s a good man, doing his duty to his king, but”—Griff spread his hands—“no ambition. I shall rise.”
“It’s . . . it’s good to have—to have ambition. How high does yours go?”
“I have learned something since coming here. Every time I think I have gone too far, I find I can go further.”
He reached across the space between them, then took her hands in his.
“We could go further still together.”
“The two of us?”
“Three. With Fespanarax. I’ve spoken to him, and he’s agreed to come over to our side. It would be a brilliant coup for us.”
There it was again. Our. Us. Did he mean the Galantine nation, or Griff and Ileth?
His hands felt strong. But not so strong she couldn’t grab them and fall to the floor, pulling him on top of her, and yell for all she was worth. The Baron might have been hinting to her that she should do that exact thing. Griff would fall just as quickly as he’d risen in the Galantine lands.
No. Even if Griff was an enemy of the Serpentine now, even if she disliked him, even if he’d called her a jade or worse, she wouldn’t resort to that.
“Fespanarax will leave the Serpentine?”
Griff stared at her hands in his. “You know him.”
She withdrew from his touch. “I do. I am . . . I am surprised he’s throwing over his friends for . . . for Galantine silver.”
“You know dragons. One bunch of humans is much like another to a dragon. The Galantines can give him gold and silver instead of waste ores, beef and pigs instead of fish.”
“For me?”
“Gowns instead of sacking overdresses. Shoes instead of slippers. Servants instead of duties. Featherbeds instead of mats. A great house instead of a shaft.”
“As your wife, I suppose.”
Griff raised his eyebrows. “So you do think of such things.”
Ileth shrugged. “I just believe that before coming to an agreement, you see . . . you see all the terms laid out plain.”
“Marriage. Not right at first. All I propose is an alliance between us. I will introduce you at Court. Get you a role with the Squadrons at the Trifall.”
Trifall. Trifall. Trifall. She’d never heard of the place. Three falls?
“That sounds pretty. Three waterfalls?”
“It’s lovely. Two of the waterfalls are beautiful. The third fall isn’t much, but there is a pool beneath it that is excellent for swimming in the summers.”
“I should like that. The summer heat gets to me.”
“The Court Exalted is on a low plateau. It’s even more pleasant in the summer. Chapalaine here is in the wallows. But I didn’t come here to talk geography, I came here to get you out of that grotty little hole and put you on my arm at the most glittering court in the world. What do you say?”
She thought of Ottavia’s talk about how young noblemen liked to have a dancer on their arm as a sort of ornament.
“It is too much to think about now. I have certain commitments to the Baron.”
“Your silly beer barrels? I will not repeat this offer again after this interview. Rise with me or fall with your Republic.”
She was tired of probing him. He wasn’t giving anything else away, not without much more from her—and she was in no mood to give him anything but spittle.
“It’s your Republic too, Griff. You have family there.”
“They will be taken care of. It’s why the family divided to begin with. The Republic would prosper, and the family with it, or fall, and the rest of the family would be there to pick up the pieces. My family plans for eventualities.”
“What is your eventuality for me refusing you?”
He stood at her question.
“I appreciate your offering to put the past behind. I took an oath that gave the Serpentine everything but my honor. Both my honor and my oath make agreeing to your offer of an alliance impossible. Last year I took you for a villain, when you were just a boy who—”
“You’ve been in the Galantine lands long enough to know that a young lady doesn’t lecture her superiors.”
He let that sink in, then continued, ice in his words. “I thought that despite your tongue you were clever, quite clever. That scheme I had with the scale, you sniffed it out, turned me in, and attracted the notice of the Masters. Brilliantly played. There are women at Court with twice your years who couldn’t anticipate and adjust all the angles you did. I thought, once I placed what I have in mind before you, you’d be smart enough to agree at once. I am sorry to be mistaken.”
Apparently he’d finished.
“Aren’t you going to . . . threaten me or something?”
“Would it change your mind? Ease your conscience? Then I’d be happy to. We’re not on some stage acting out a drama for shopkeepers. I made you an offer. You declined. We are finished. I hope you will accept that I alone, out of all those you’ve met since you came to the Serpentine, am the only one who discerned your talents. I wanted to give you the opportunity to make the fullest use of them. When the wheel of fortune begins to turn and crush, as it inevitably will if you return to the Republic, and you find yourself dirty and hungry again, I hope you do not lose yourself in regret. When it all comes down, mention my name and I’ll see that you at least have bread in your stomach, Ileth. You still have my esteem, even if we shan’t have an alliance.”
With that, he left the interview. Ileth sat in the chair, listening to footsteps, and didn’t rise until she saw him leaving the house and mounting his horse.
The Baron appeared and asked if she was all right, whether she needed some tea or perhaps even a little brandy to recover from the encounter, but Ileth made her excuses. She hurried to Fespanarax. She found him idly gnawing on a steer’s head.
“Sir,” Ileth said. “I just had an interview with Gr—Young Ransanse, of the Dragon Squadron or whatever they call it. It astonished me.”
“I should think if I were astonished I’d sit down a bit until the sensation passed, rather than go bother a dragon enjoying his digestive bones.”
“He insulted you, sir.”
“The birds insult me every morning with their chatter. At least that grasper had the courtesy to do it out of my hearing.”