I had thought as much. I recognised Lady Lan Yetrov, away in the crowd and glittering with diamonds, but I didn’t approach her. I wasn’t sure that she would want to see me again after the night I had fed her husband to his pet bear, despite the fact that I had set her free from years of violent domestic abuse in doing so. Perhaps she would remember that, and count me as a friend, but perhaps not. You never could tell, in Dannsburg.
‘Aye, so I see,’ I said. ‘You suggest that her boy could sit on the Prince Consort’s throne, and she promises to make no trouble over her husband’s unfortunate death nor give refuge to the Skanians in Varnburg, is that the lay of things?’
Vogel showed me the razor edge of his smile, and said nothing.
Could and might and possibly, such were the promises of the Queen’s Men.
I admired the duchess, for all that I didn’t know her or much care for her. She had been very quick to make the best of a bad situation, after all. She had seen the way the wind was blowing, and knowing it was futile to fight an impossible battle, she had reached the best agreement she could in order to not only protect her son and the future of the House of Varnburg, but actually advance their prospects while she was about it. She would have made a ferocious businesswoman.
We were eventually admitted to what I supposed you would call an informal drawing room, a great tapestried space full of gilded chairs with red velvet upholstery and pointless little tables that were too low to use for anything useful. I had brought Billy along for the experience, although he looked very bored. That couldn’t be helped. If he was to grow up to become a gentleman he needed to become accustomed to society life, and where better to start than at the top?
Footmen circulated with trays of wine and brandy, for all that it was not yet noon, but it seemed events for children were not to be held in the evening. The Grand Duke of Varnburg, young Marcus, fidgeted nervously behind his mother’s skirts as they waited in front of the huge fireplace. Billy waved at him and Marcus smiled shyly, but made no move to come and speak to him. I strongly suspected his mother had forbidden him from seeing Billy since the events at the inn, no doubt having judged him too dangerous for her precious son to mix with.
There had been muttered talk of witchcraft among the duchess’ men during the last few tense days of our journey, and although no accusations had actually been brought, it was clear that Billy was strongly out of favour. That was a great shame, as I had seen obvious possibilities in my son being friends with the young Grand Duke, but it seemed Billy had thrown that into the shithouse when he burned that inn down. I tried not to take ill against him for it, reminding myself that he was young and inexperienced and foolish in the way of lads that age. It was my fault, I reminded myself yet again, not his. I sighed, and looked around the room.
The Dowager Duchess herself was wearing all black, severe mourning clothes as would only be expected after her husband’s recent passing. Her son, however, had been presented in something resembling a dress uniform, complete with a crimson sash across his tightly fitted black jacket. It was ridiculous; he barely had ten years to him, after all.
‘Who dreams this shit up?’ Iagin muttered as he joined us, a glass of morning brandy in his hand.
‘You, usually,’ Vogel said, and that was the closest to a jest I think I ever heard him utter.
I coughed into my fist and held my peace, and a moment later I was rescued by the arrival of the Princess Crown Royal’s entourage.
She was preceded into the room by a trio of heralds, who blew the first few bars of the national anthem through their curled brass horns, then three burly nuns and two black-garbed men, who I took to be tutors. Then came the Prince Regent with his daughter on his arm, and behind them came Ailsa.
I had barely seen her since my return from Varnburg, and once more I was struck by how truly beautiful she was. The time of mourning for the queen’s death had begun to be gradually relaxed while I had been away from the city, and she wore a gown of shimmering green Alarian silk that made her look like some sea goddess from a distant shore.
Fool, fool, I thought, but those were the facts of how I felt and nothing I thought could change them.
‘It’s Mama!’ Billy whispered, and I had to put a hand on his arm to stop him running to her and causing a spectacle in front of half the court.
The Princess Crown Royal herself looked much as I remembered her, a tiny porcelain doll dressed up as a woman in a dark silk gown. Her eyes were wide with the drugs that coursed through her, but she allowed herself to be led forward by her father until she was standing before the young Grand Duke and his formidable mother.
He bowed deeply, as he had no doubt been coached to do, and in turn the Dowager Duchess dropped a low curtsey. The princess herself smiled at them both, and said nothing. Her face looked blank, vacant, as though she had absolutely no idea where she was or why she was there. I dare say she hadn’t, at that.
Ailsa leaned past the Prince Regent to whisper something in her ear, and after a moment she dipped a tiny curtsey of respect to her potential future husband.
‘Your Grace,’ she said, enunciating the words extremely carefully like an adult who was very, very drunk and trying hard to hide it.
