“But I didn’t know the man was a Firenzcian, Ambassador,” ci’Bella protested. “I swear it by Cenzi. He seemed lost, and I only escorted him through the palais…”
“You showed him through the corridors for the palais staff, the corridors that only authorized staff are permitted to access.”
“It was the quickest way…”
“And it was also a way that someone wishing to harm the Kraljica or to prowl about the palais would desire to know and use.”
“But I didn’t know…”
Sergei smiled. He rubbed at the carved nostrils of his false nose, where the glue holding it to his face itched. “I believe you, Aaros,” he said gently, smiling. “But I don’t know if that’s the truth. Perhaps you’re a skilled liar. Perhaps you’ve helped other people find their way through the palais corridors. Perhaps you’re an agent of Firenzcia yourself. I don’t know. ” He plucked a set of clawed pincers from their loop and stood with an effort, his knees cracking once more. The garda pushed himself off the wall, moving forward to Aaros.
“But I will know,” Sergei told the man. “Very soon…”
Allesandra ca’Vorl
Allesandra knew that there would be a backlash to her decision to hold a state funeral for Ambassador Karl ca’Pallo. She just hadn’t expected it to be quite so vitriolic nor so rapid.
Her aide Talbot entered her chamber with a quick warning knock. “I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Kraljica,” he said with an elegant half-bow as her domestiques de chambre diplomatically left the room. “A’Teni ca’Paim is here to see you. She insists it is ‘vital’ that she see you immediately.” Talbot frowned. “I swear, the woman doesn’t know how to speak in anything but hyperbole. If her breakfast is late, it’s a crisis.”
Allesandra sighed and set down her fork. “It’s about our request to use the Old Temple for Karl’s funeral?”
“I sent your request over to A’Teni ca’Paim’s office less than a turn of the glass ago. So, yes, I suspect that’s why she’s come. A’Teni ca’Paim seems… well, rather nervous and upset.” Talbot’s pale eyes glittered with a hint of amusement, a corner of his thin mouth lifting. But then, Talbot was a Numetodo, which meant that he might believe in other gods than Cenzi or no god at all. Being a Numetodo rather than a follower of Cenzi had become nearly fashionable in Nessantico in recent years-the fact that ca’Paim was the leader of the Faith in Nessantico mattered not at all to him.
Allesandra pushed the silver tray away from her. Cutlery rattled, tea shivered in the cup. “Since the a’teni herself has come rather than sending one of the lesser teni over, I assume she feels this can’t wait?”
“A’Teni ca’Paim said that she was-and I quote the woman-prepared to stay here until the Kraljica can find time to see me.’ Though if the Kraljica wishes to make her wait until this evening or even tomorrow, I’d be pleased to give A’Teni ca’Paim that message.”
“No doubt you would,” Allesandra said; Talbot flashed another grin. “And to bring her blankets and a pillow, too. But I suppose I might as well get this over with. Wait half a turn so I can finish my breakfast, then bring her up. Ply her with those candies from Il Trebbio, Talbot; perhaps that will sweeten her mood.”
Talbot bowed and left the room. Allesandra glanced up at the painting of Kraljica Marguerite, a masterpiece by the painter ci’Recroix. The painting, like most of the city of Nessantico, had undergone extensive restoration from the damages it had sustained a decade and a half ago, when the Tehuantin had sacked Nessantico. Rips in the canvas had been meticulously glued together, the smoke stains carefully cleaned and the burned sections repainted, though the restoration work was visible if one looked closely at the canvas: even the best painters still could not match ci’Recroix’s subtlety (or literal magic, if one believed the tales) with the brush. Archigos Ana, Allesandra knew, had insisted that the painting had been ensorcelled and was responsible for Kraljica Marguerite’s sudden death. Certainly Kraljiki Audric had displayed an unhealthy relationship with the painting of his great-matarh, treating it as if the portrait were the Kraljica herself. Allesandra occasionally found herself glancing uncomfortably at the painting, installed over the mantel in the reception room of her apartments in the rebuilt palais. Marguerite always seemed to be gazing back at Allesandra, the painted highlights glistening in her eyes and an inscrutable expression of half-disgust touching her lips, as if the sight of a ca’Vorl bearing the crown and ring of the Kralji pained her.
Perhaps it did, in whatever afterlife the woman inhabited. No matter what the truth of the painting’s history might be, Allesandra found that the piece served as a reminder of what Nessantico had been under her rule, and what perhaps it might become again.
“Does it bother you, Marguerite?” she asked the painting.
There was no answer.
She finished her meal and called the domestiques de chambre to take the tray, telling them to bring a new tray with tea and scones for the a’teni. Talbot knocked again on the outer door just as the servants brought in the tea. “Enter,” Allesandra said, and Talbot stepped into view.
“A’Teni ca’Paim,” he said, bowing more formally this time. He started to step aside to allow ca’Paim to enter the room, but she pushed past him. Only Allesandra saw the roll of Talbot’s eyes
Soleil ca’Paim was a portly woman in her mid-forties, with dyed dark hair showing white at the roots and a complexion that the emerald green of her robe rendered pasty. She had the harried look of a matron with too many children-and indeed she had birthed ten children in her time-but Allesandra knew it would be a mistake to think of her as soft, ineffectual, or unintelligent; a mistake many had made during her career. Soleil had risen quickly within the ranks of the teni from her beginnings as a lowly e’teni in Brezno, to her current position as the representative of the Faith for Nessantico. There was talk that, should Archigos Karrol’s ill health take him, the Concordance of A’Teni might elect her as Archigos. Certainly Archigos Karrol had shown her favor in giving her charge of Nessantico.
“Kraljica,” ca’Paim said, inclining her head. The woman was breathing a bit heavily, and Allesandra waved to the chair set across from her.
“A’Teni, it’s so good to see you. Would you like tea? These scones are still warm from the oven and our new pastry chef, I have to say, is excellent…” Allesandra waved to the servants, standing against the wall, and they scurried forward to serve the tea and hand the a’teni a plate adorned with several scones, drizzled with honey. A’ Teni ca’Paim was not one to turn down food: she ate a scone, then another, while the two of them talked pleasantries, circling around the subject they both knew must be broached.
Finally, ca’Paim set down the plate, dusted with sticky crumbs. “I received your request this morning, Kraljica,” ca’Paim stated in her flat, somewhat nasal voice. “While we of the Faith readily acknowledge Ambassador ca’Pallo’s long service to Nessantico and the Holdings, that doesn’t alter the fact that neither the Ambassador nor any of the Numetodo believe in Cenzi as we do, and the usage of Concenzia Faith’s facilities would amount to a de facto acceptance of their heretical beliefs.”
Allesandra set her own plate down. She put a hand on either side of it. “I must remind you, A’Teni, that the Old Temple was rebuilt at least partially with funds given to the Faith by the Holdings.”
Ca’Paim acknowledged that with an inclination of her head. “And for that the Faith is extremely grateful, Kraljica. We have tried to give back to the Holdings what we can. I’d remind the Kraljica that our light-teni donated their services to the Holdings for five years in thanks. Archigos Karrol, in particular, has been most generous with his attentions to the Holdings, making certain that the Faith is as well-served here as it is in the Coalition. But this…” Her lips pressed together, and Allesandra could see that the woman was concealing a genuine indignation, not something feigned because it was forced upon her. “This is a matter of faith, Kraljica, as you must see. Surely the Grand Hall here in the palais could accommodate the crowds that might wish to pay their respects to the Ambassador.”