“You are the consummate performer, my dear!” Alaya said, offering the actor her hand to kiss and gifting him with a golden ring from her finger.
“I am honored beyond words, Your Grace,” Atre said, gazing into her eyes as he took it, making even the old woman blush like a girl and clear her throat. Atre was already wearing a ruby ring Seregil recognized with a twinge of annoyance as having belonged to Kylith; Seregil had given it to her.
“I think you must be the most amusing man in all of Rhiminee,” Aralain exclaimed, clearly charmed as she gave him a bracelet from her wrist.
“You are far too generous, Your Highness,” Atre demurred, but pride shone in his eyes as he bowed and pressed his hand to his heart. “I hope you will come and see the plays in their entirety.”
“I shall attend your theater very soon,” she assured him.
“I shall, as well,” the princess royal said. Blushing a little, she pulled off one of her own rings and gave it to him.
Atre was allowed to withdraw to a back table with the poetess, and talk turned to other subjects.
“Tell me, Reltheus, what do you hear from Lord Danos?” Princess Aralain asked.
“I received a letter just the other day, Your Highness. He and his company captured and held a bridge at Redpoll for the queen, who led her forces to victory on the Plenimaran frontier.”
“He’s very fortunate to serve so close to my aunt,” said Elani. “I’d like to hear more of his exploits from him, when he returns.”
“May Sakor bring him safely home,” added her mother, who appeared to be as smitten with this potential suitor as her daughter.
“Most assuredly, Highness,” Reltheus told her. “Perhaps you’ll come to my estate again. Danos would be most honored to lead a hunt for you.”
Elani smiled, looking charmingly girlish. “I’d like that.”
“He also sent a private note to the princess royal, if you will allow it, Highness?”
“Certainly,” Aralain replied.
Elani blushed a bit as she took the sealed letter and tucked it into her sleeve.
“Do you have any more news of the war, Your Grace?” asked Alaya, clearly in his camp. “Is there any end in sight?”
“I don’t think so,” Reltheus told her with a sigh. “Part of the regiment was moved up the river toward Fleet Ford. Danos said they’d seen a great deal of battle, and he’s lost some good riders. He himself was wounded-”
“Not seriously, I hope!” exclaimed Elani.
“A mere flesh wound, he said. Although knowing my boy, he wished to spare my feelings and those of his stepmother with any detail.”
“Does he ever speak of Captain Beka Cavish?” asked Alec. “She’s with the Queen’s Horse, as well.”
“Now and then,” Reltheus said, clearly intending to keep the focus of the discussion on his son’s exploits and bravery,
which he extolled for several minutes. Princess Aralain hung on his every word, as did Alaya. And Elani, too, though her gaze did stray Alec’s way every now and then.
“And what does he say regarding his commander?” asked Evesia, who’d been quiet for some time.
Interesting, thought Seregil, that Aralain had not asked after her half sister.
“Nothing but praise!” Reltheus assured the marquise. “After the queen herself, Princess Klia is accounted the finest commander in the field. But you must hear a great deal of news, working so closely with her brother, the vicegerent. What does Prince Korathan have to say?”
“Very much the same,” Evesia replied. “Only the other day he noted that the Queen’s Horse has one of the highest success rates in the army, but also among the highest casualties. No doubt because they are on the front line so often.”
“The queen must have great confidence in her sister,” said Seregil. “We were honored to serve her, Alec and I, in Aurenen, and found her tremendously capable and intelligent.”
“Oh, she is,” said Elani. The obvious affection there made Seregil doubt that Elani knew anything of a plot against Klia.
As talk turned to the summer’s fashions and concerns about the lack of fine wool for the fall, Elani again fell silent. Alec must have noticed, too, for he took advantage of a pause in the conversation to ask her a question about hunting.
The girl brightened again and soon they were discussing the pull weights of their bows and the relative merits of swallowtail arrowheads and broad heads. Alaya and the other guests were soon left behind and looked on in amusement-all but Reltheus and Aralain, Seregil noted, watching them through lowered lashes. There was a hint of annoyance behind Reltheus’s forced smile, no doubt at the attention Alec was getting, and Elani’s mother clearly had other plans for her daughter. This wouldn’t do, not after the work they’d done to curry the duke’s friendship.
Seregil leaned over and draped an arm around Alec’s shoulders. “It’s a shame you don’t have your bow, love. I’m sure Her Highness would find it of interest.”
The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on anyone, least of all Elani. She colored a bit and looked down at her hands.
Alec shot him a puzzled glance, then turned back to the princess and smoothed the moment over by describing the Radly to her, and how it could be taken apart.
“I’d like to see that,” she said, enthusiasm returning. “You and Lord Seregil must come shoot with me at the palace lists.”
“I’d be most honored, Your Highness,” Alec replied.
“As would I, Highness,” Seregil said, giving her a warm smile. “Although my shooting will be strictly for your amusement, I fear.”
“Aunt Klia says you are one of the finest swordsmen she knows, though,” Elani replied. “Perhaps you will give me a match.”
“I am yours to command.” Seregil hoped the invitation came soon, as he doubted Phoria would welcome his presence or Alec’s on the palace grounds after her return, much less contact with her niece.
“She will prove quite an opponent for you, Seregil,” Reltheus said. “After all, she’s been trained by the queen.”
“I’m no warrior, as you will soon attest,” Seregil said with a laugh, playing the fop. “I’m sure I wouldn’t last half an hour on a battlefield.”
Talk turned back to the war after that. Seregil glanced now and then at the actor, who sat at the back table with the poetess. To most eyes the man would have appeared to be politely concealing growing boredom as he toyed absently with the expensive pearl bauble hanging from his ear, but his lazy gaze was never quite at rest.
It was not yet midnight when Alaya bid farewell to her guests. As they were waiting for their horses to be brought around, Seregil turned to Atre. “You were absolutely wonderful.”
“My lord, it was nothing, but I am glad to have been of service,” Atre replied modestly, though he was clearly pleased.
“Come have a drink with us to finish off the evening. There’s a decent tavern in the next street.”
“Of course, my lord!”
The Mermaid was a luxurious establishment patronized by the nobles of the area. In addition to excellent wines and ales, it also had small private rooms available off the main chamber. Seregil gave the doorkeeper gold and he
