“In an ideal empire, they would,” Shan agreed. “But we don’t live there. Don’t look so upset. She likes you. If she likes you enough, she’ll make you one of her attendants even if you are married. Life at court can be amusing.”
Leaning over, Sandry plucked a sprig of mint and held it under her nose, enjoying its fresh scent. “And if I lived only to be amused, I might even like it, who knows?” she asked with a shrug. “But I’m a mage. I live to work. I love my work. The court will have to amuse itself without me after Wort Moon.” She named the last month of summer.
Shan got to his feet. “I’d better put myself back under her nose before she suspects me of courting you. I haven’t been disciplined by Her Imperial Majesty in four months. I’d like to keep the winning streak going. If you’ll excuse me?”
It was the first time all day that a young man had left her and not the other way around. “Don’t you want to court me?” Sandry heard herself ask, her mouth seeming to have a will of its own. Although her tone was one of mild curiosity, she could feel a beet red blush creep up from her neck to cover her face. Stupid! she scolded herself. Stupid, stupid! Now he’ll think you’re throwing yourself at his head, when you just wanted to know why he wasn’t grazing with the herd!
Shan laughed, which made her blush burn all the hotter. “I like you, Sandry, but I’m not on the permitted list,” he said, grinning. “Besides, friendship is always better than courtship—that’s what my grandmother used to say. I’d like for us to be friends.”
“Oh,” she said, struggling to keep her voice disinterested, even if her blush still lingered on her cheeks. “I’d like that, too.”
“Good,” he said, offering his hand. Sandry took it and discovered that his hand engulfed hers. “Friends it is,” Shan said, giving her hand a single, firm shake before he let it go. He grinned and walked back to the castle.
Sandry could still feel his warm fingers against hers. She looked at her hand, wonderingly. There was a green streak there, and the scent of mint.
She smiled. He had stolen her mint sprig.
When Sandry returned to the empress, she was once more surrounded by nobles. Daja couldn’t help noticing the look Sandry traded with the man who now lounged at the empress’s elbow. That was Shan, who had talked to her that day in the imperial gardens, Daja remembered. I hope Sandry isn’t hoping for something there. He and Berenene seem really, really friendly, and that Quenaill, who I thought was really friendly with the empress, too, he took himself off to a corner when Shan arrived. He’s been there ever since, glaring at Shan.
Daja nudged Rizu, who sat on the bench next to her with Chime in her lap. When Rizu looked at her, Daja ignored that fizzing sensation inside her skin and whispered, “Her Imperial Majesty seems very friendly with Shan.”
Rizu chuckled, a sound that raised goose bumps on Daja’s arms. Am I coming down with some sickness? Daja wondered.
Leaning over to whisper in Daja’s ear, Rizu said, “I should hope they’re friendly, since he shares her bed.”
Daja flinched, almost bumping Rizu’s nose with her own. Rizu giggled and brushed Daja’s nose with her fingers. Daja gulped and turned to whisper in Rizu’s ear, “He’s her lover?”
Rizu slid a little closer. “He is, Quen was and may well be again, and there are two other fellows you may have seen glaring at them, who might just bounce to the front of the line if Berenene gets bored.”
Daja rocked back, startled. Plenty of people had lovers if they weren’t married, but it seemed greedy to have more than one.
“How do you think a nobody like Pershan fer Roth got an important position like Master of the Hunt?” Rizu wanted to know. “He couldn’t have afforded the fifty gold argib fee to get the post. Her Imperial Majesty paid it.” Rizu lowered her long lashes. “He’s been the imperial favorite for about five weeks. Do you like him?”
“No,” Daja said, bewildered that Rizu should even ask. “Oh, he’s pretty enough. With those shoulders he could be a smith, but no. I was just curious.”
“Sandrilene,” called the empress.
Sandry looked at Berenene with yearning. She silently asked Daja, Is she going to pull my suitors off me now? Before they smother me?
Daja snorted.
“What?” Rizu wanted to know, but Daja just shook her head.
“We are of a mind to go hunting tomorrow, in the Kristinmur Forest,” Berenene explained. “We invite you and your friends.” Her tone made it not a request, but a statement.
Sandry frowned, then got to her feet, shooing the young men who sat in front of her out of her way as a farmwife might shoo chickens. “Your Imperial Majesty is gracious,” Sandry replied slowly. Daja could tell she was groping for words that would not offend. Sandry went on: “The truth is that my friends and I do not hunt.”
Briar sauntered into the clear space before the empress. “Well, I’ve hunted, when I had to,” he said with a polite bow. “But not as Your Imperial Majesty means it, with horses and the birds and the dogs.”
“And beaters,” added Tris, coming into view from a pocket of shadow where she’d been talking with Ishabal. “Frightening helpless animals.”
“A boar or an elk is hardly helpless,” the empress said drily. She found Daja immediately. “Do you also object to hunting?” she asked mildly.
Daja shrugged and got to her feet to bow. “I never learned, Your Imperial Majesty. I ride well enough, but the only weapon I’m good with is a staff, and that’s for bashing human heads, not animal ones.”
The courtiers laughed as Berenene smiled. “Delightfully frank,” she told Daja with a smile. “You must forgive us northerners. We all learned to hunt as children on our first ponies. Very well, since hunting does not appeal, what do you say to a visit to Dragonstone? Saghad Ambros knows where that is, between here and Sablaliz. It’s a fortress from the old Haidheltac empire, very lovely. I’ve been remaking it as a kind of stone garden, in and around what remains of the buildings, with ponds and places to picnic.”
Sandry curtsied. Tris followed suit, as Briar and Daja bowed. “It sounds wonderful, Cousin,” replied Sandry. “We would love to join you.”
12
Supper that night seemed lonely without Rizu, Caidy, Jak, and Fin to tell stories and make jokes over the table. They had returned to Sablaliz with the empress, who had declared herself helpless without their companionship. Jak and Fin had seemed genuinely sad to leave Sandry. And Daja was definitely sad that they had lost Rizu and Caidy.
Over supper, Ambros announced, “Her Imperial Majesty has invited Ealaga and me to join you tomorrow. In addition, I’m detaching five men-at-arms to guard us. There’s no need to bring more. The presence of the empress in the district should discourage kidnappers. Besides”—he began. Sandry and Tris chorused with him, “There’s the plowing to be done.” It was why they had taken so few guards to Pofkim.
Ambros gave his crackling laugh. His wife and daughters fell victim to the giggles. Daja fixed it in mind to share with Rizu, who probably would have joined their chorus. They’d all had plenty of time to learn that Ambros’s first priority, apart from acquainting Sandry with her estates, was to make sure every acre that could grow a crop was plowed and sown. Despite Sandry’s visit, the yearly round of the castle continued.
“And I will stay here,” Zhegorz said firmly.
Sandry gave him her warmest smile. “You’ll stay here,” she reassured him. “No empresses for you.”
At dawn their small party left, along with their guards and two donkeys who carried picnic delicacies from the Landreg kitchens. The four mages rode silently, saving their conversational skills for the day ahead. When they reached Dragonstone, they were rewarded for their early ride. Berenene, as wide-awake as she had been the day before, took them on a tour of the fortress ruins.