In a very soft voice she replied, “I think he’s falling in love with Amalie, and he can’t help it, and he doesn’t want me to know.”
Tayse shrugged. “So a mystic becomes devoted to the princess. That’s not such a terrible thing. If he loves her, he will serve her with all his heart.”
She gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I’m even more afraid that Amalie is falling in love with him. And he knows that, too.”
Tayse’s eyes narrowed. “Do you seriously think she would take him as her lover?”
“I think that both Amalie and Cammon have led such unconventional lives that something that seems impossible to us does not seem particularly consequential to them.”
He smiled. “Many men have dared to love women whom they had no reasonable hope of winning.”
She laughed, but grew instantly grave. “This is a little more outrageous than a serramarra and a King’s Rider! She will be queen, and he is nobody. You hold a respectable position that my brothers can admire, but Cammon can’t even claim that distinction.”
Tayse didn’t seem nearly as concerned as she was, which she found both calming and exasperating. “Say it happens. She takes him to her bed. What are you afraid of? That she will bear his child?”
“Sweet gods, I hadn’t even gotten that far in my calculations! No, I’m afraid that a number of her noble-born suitors might decline to marry her if it was discovered she had taken a lover.”
“You’re strangely moralistic for a woman who has defied every law of her own society,” he commented.
She exhaled a breath of laughter. “I am, am I not? Does that make me hypocritical? It is just that the laws I disregarded myself seem to have been designed to apply to Amalie.”
“And I would say she can contravene them with even more impunity. So she has a lover. So she has a dozen. Does that truly ruin her marriage prospects? A man who loved her, or a man who wished to be king, wouldn’t care at all.”
Senneth had never thought of it that way. “I suppose you’re right. But there are plenty of serramar who might care less about virginity and more about her choice of bedmates. If Cammon were of noble blood, they might not cavil so much. And if she has fewer candidates to choose from, I think it will be harder for her to find the right husband.”
He turned his head to give her a long, half-smiling appraisal. “And tell me again, please, why it is so critical that Amalie marries?”
She practically stared at him. “Because the whole kingdom is watching her and wondering if she is suitable to be queen! Because a stable alliance with a strong House will mollify the marlords-we hope-and help us stave off the possibility of war.”
“We are already going to war,” he pointed out. “There is a navy collecting outside of Forten City. Marry her off tomorrow, and Ghosenhall will still be under attack. Why does she need to wed?”
She absolutely had no answer for that. It had seemed to make such perfect sense, back when she and Valri and Baryn were talking strategy. Find Amalie a husband, show the marlords that she was a fit and fertile princess, strengthen the alliances, avert war. But if war were to come anyway…
“If you are so determined to get her a bridegroom, wait till the war is over,” Tayse recommended. “Reward some House that shows exemplary service to the crown. But I see no need for Amalie to marry where she has no inclination. At this stage, a husband could divide her loyalties and scheme to influence her in ways that you do not desire. She is young, yes, but she is already surrounded by advisors who are utterly faithful and united in their views. Why bring in another voice? Why bother with a husband at all?”
“There is still the matter of heirs,” Senneth said faintly. “Eventually, she must produce a few of those.”
His smile was even broader. “She wouldn’t need a husband for that, either.”
She couldn’t bite back a laugh. “But this is too amusing!” she exclaimed. “You have always been far stricter than I have about the boundaries of class! And now you would upend everything! Just for the pleasure of the debate? Or is this how you truly feel?”
“I never understood why Amalie was being rushed toward a wedding. I do understand why you want her to marry within her own rank and station, but I am not worried that a liaison with Cammon will harm her.” He shrugged. “In fact, the opposite.”
“You think it would be a good idea for her to fall in love with Cammon?” Senneth demanded. “Oh, no, surely not!”
“If he is lying in bed beside her at night, no assassin will be able to reach her in stealth,” Tayse said deliberately. “My first goal is to keep her alive. Everything else bends to that imperative.”
Senneth caught her breath. Yes, Tayse always saw life in the starkest and most absolute terms. It was something she had had the skill for at one point-when her own life had been simplified to the most drastic choices of survival or death. She had lost her way a little in these past months, as she had reentered the social circles she had scorned for so long. She had gotten muddled. She had lost her focus.
“I am not going to encourage him, even on those grounds,” she said. “In fact, I still want to wring his neck for being so heedless and-and stupid. But you might be right. Perhaps. Some small part of your argument might have merit. I will think it over.”
His lurking smile was back. He placed his right fist against his left shoulder and bowed from the saddle. “Serra, that is all I ask.”
DANAN Hall was festive with bridal decorations, but they had to work their way through a half dozen checkpoints to get a glimpse of the bouquets and garlands. Senneth could tell that Tayse approved of the soldiers massed around the city that surrounded the Hall; more guards patrolled the grounds of the manor itself. Trust Malcolm Danalustrous to protect his own.
Kirra met them in the great foyer while they were still being interrogated by the steward. “Carlo, of course you remember Senneth!” Kirra exclaimed, flinging her arms around first Senneth and then Tayse. “She used to live here! Though, of course, it was a long time ago.”
“Yes, serra, and she and her escort were here last fall,” Carlo replied. He was a thin, precise, well-dressed man who was a little vain about his appearance. “But your father has instructed me to ascertain that everyone who crosses the threshold is, in fact, on the list of expected guests.”
Kirra had taken hold of Senneth’s arm and was pulling her toward the gracious, polished staircase. “Well, both of them are,” she said over her shoulder. She glanced at Tayse. “At least, I think so. Are you going to attend the wedding? Or are you going to spout some nonsense about Riders not being fit to participate in the celebrations of the nobility?”
“No, Tayse is in quite an iconoclastic mood these days,” Senneth said. “Topple the social conventions! Let peasants mingle with princesses! We shall all be equals.”
“I think I’ll need to hear the rest of this story later,” Kirra said, herding them upstairs. “But I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid you’d decide not to come.”
“Well, with the news about ships at Forten City, I wanted to stay in Ghosenhall,” Senneth replied. “But Baryn insisted we come.”
Kirra turned off at the landing on the second floor and tugged Senneth forward again, down the main corridor. The ceiling arched high over their heads and banners fluttered on the walls. Danan Hall was so beautiful and so restful that it scarcely allowed a visitor to entertain thoughts about something as ugly as war.
“Baryn has called in his reserve troops. We’re readying for an onslaught,” Tayse said.
Kirra stopped at a room not far from the stairwell and pushed open the door. The room was decorated in dark maroon shades lightened by accents of pale wood, washed gold, and pale green. “This is where you’ll stay. Isn’t it pretty? I’ve put you in the family wing, so you might stumble over my father or my stepmother when you come and go. But you’re right down the hall from me, which should be convenient. I hope our new egalitarian Tayse isn’t going to insist on sleeping in the stables.”