There was a knock on the door; a heavy, authoritative knock, not her mother’s impatient series of raps, designed to irritate. Oh, lord. Io sat up in bed, aware of her wrinkled clothes and her uncombed hair hanging halfway down her back. She’d thought the Cardinal wasn’t coming till four.
Another knock. She cast a desperate glance toward the vanity, but there was no time to do anything. She stood up, smoothed her dress, and opened the door.
“May I come in, child?” asked the Cardinal, coming in as he did so.
She curtsied and moved aside. “Forgive me, Lord Cardinal, I had a … I wasn’t feeling well.” After all, one couldn’t lie to a priest.
“You do look a little pale. Although it’s hard to tell in this light.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Just a minute—” She raised the dimmers and watched Arno’s face spring into full eagle prominence.
“There we are,” he said, smiling. “Not so bad, after all. That dress becomes you. I wonder if you have a chair for an old man?”
“Certainly, Lord Cardinal.” She pulled out the chair by her carved wooden desk, laden with stacks of books assigned by her now-unemployed tutors. A frieze of walnut ran around the desk’s borders, showing the loading of the Three Cities in the days of Adrian Sawyer: a line of Curosa worker-beasts, carrying materials on their backs; Adrian Sawyer leading a family into the hatch of a ship; one of the Curosa themselves, preaching the Story of Life. It was beautiful carving work.
No doubt they wouldn’t let her take it off the City of Opal.
“What a frown, my dear,” said Amo. “I hope your headache isn’t too bad?”
“No, really, Lord Cardinal; I’m much better.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Frowns and young ladies do not go together. Can I have a smile from you instead?” Iolanthe forced a smile, wondering why no request ever seemed as humiliating as that one always did.
“There!” said Amo, evidently pleased at having lightened the atmosphere. “Now, no more ‘Lord Cardinals’ from you, my dear; I want to speak as your confessor.”
“Yes, Father,” she said obediently.
“Tell me, what are your feelings about this match?”
“My feelings?” Her voice was wary.
“What do you think of it?”
“It’s a great opportunity for the family,” she said carefully.
“No doubt. But you’ll be leaving all your friends, going to a new place, marrying someone you’ve never met … this must be on your mind.”
“The thoughts had occurred to me, Father.”
“It’s only natural that they should. You know, Iolanthe, all young ladies worry about what marriage will bring, and it’s proper for them to do so; modesty prompts it, and natural feminine fears.”
At times like this Iolanthe wondered what unmarried clergymen knew about “natural feminine fears,” but she had to acknowledge that there was a lot she didn’t understand. “Yes, Father,” she said. This was a phrase she knew could get one’s boat safely through whole vast seas of lecturing. No one, fortunately, ever seemed to want to hear more from her than the affirmative. Of course that “what are your feelings” question had been a bit alarming; but one hoped it had been an aberration, and that the conversation would soon return to a normal pattern.
“I was wondering, my dear, if you’d heard anything about your future husband.”
Io had the expression of a startled forest animal. “Heard anything?”
“Anything that disturbed you, I mean. Your mother’s worried about you, you know.”
“Oh. Lord Cardinal—Father—I’ve heard very little about him at all, really. Just that he’s the new Diamond Protector. Which I’m sure is a great opportunity for me, and I should be very grateful.”
This last came out so like a rote lesson that the Lord Cardinal chuckled. He recited, as though it were the other half of a textbook exercise, “And you’ll have lots of fine dresses and jewels…. I’m sure they told you that, too.” She looked up, startled. “They did.”
“Well, of course they would. They don’t want you to have hysterics on the way over.”
Io was thrown completely off-stride by this sudden acknowledgment of reality. Even so, it was bracing; like having layers of cotton wool unwound from one’s soul and finding it healthy and sane after all. She was aware of a feeling of gratitude toward the Cardinal, which worried her.
“Do you want to go?” he asked.
“I know my duty to my family,” she said, stepping delicately around the chasm of honesty which had suddenly opened up between them. “A life of service to the City is one of the highest things anyone could aspire to.”
A dangerous glint of humor had reached the Cardinal’s eyes. She’d never even known he possessed the quality. “ Beautifully spoken, dear Iolanthe. It pleases me to hear you say so. You’re certainly not the kind of young lady who just blurts out whatever is on her mind, are you?” She was uncomfortably silent.
He chuckled again. “I’m not unhappy with you, dear, I promise. In fact, I’d like to talk with you seriously for a moment.”
She looked up at him. It was becoming clear now that he had something on his mind, and she was only incidental to it; that was reassuring. She could still retrieve the conversation. The role of listener was one she knew how to play. “Please go ahead, Father.”
He sighed as though he regretted something on her behalf. “There are many lessons still ahead of you, but you’re a bright young lady, Iolanthe. I’ve seen the reports of your tutors; you mastered all your subjects in record time. Tell me, which was your favorite?”
“Paperfolding,” said Io, whose favorite had been history. Although the boys’ books her brothers had studied from had been much more interesting than her own in that area.
“A becoming accomplishment,” agreed the Lord Cardinal. “In your other lessons, however, you no doubt learned a little about the City
