ALEC, at least, must have made a good impression on the princess. A few days after the shooting match, he and Seregil were invited shooting again, and then to a picnic on one of the islands in the harbor. In the invitation, the princess reminded Alec to bring his bow.
It was hardly an intimate affair. Princess Aralain and her three younger daughters came along, as well as Duke Reltheus, Alaya and five young ladies-in-waiting, and a score of courtiers, most of whom Seregil recognized from the archery contests. Selin had not been included, he noticed.
There were also a host of servants in charge of the hampers and cushions, minstrels, and a bodyguard of twenty. Elani took Reltheus’s arm to ascend the gangplank of the sleek caravel moored at the royal quay. She was dressed in a blue summer dress today, but her shoes were sturdy. She wore no jewels, and her fair hair was caught back in a brightly colored ribbon under her broad-brimmed sun hat.
The minstrels struck up a lively tune as they set sail under a clear blue morning sky and a few of the guests danced on the deck. Elani and her women remained at the rail with Reltheus, and she beckoned for Seregil and Alec to join them.
“My lords, welcome again,” she said, offering her hand. “My uncle mentioned to me that you are a gifted harpist and a fine singer, Lord Seregil. I hope you will contribute to the entertainment.”
“I am, as always, yours to command, Highness,” Seregil said with a bow. “And Alec here has a very pleasing voice.”
Elani smiled at Alec. “You have many skills, it seems.”
“A few, Highness,” Alec replied.
When the minstrels paused in their playing Seregil borrowed a harp and he and Alec found themselves the center of attention for some time, singing love songs and war ballads. Seregil even managed a few of the songs he’d heard in the theater, which won him much applause.
“Lords Seregil and Alec are patrons of that new company in Gannet Lane,” Reltheus generously informed the party.
“Indeed?” sniffed Count Tolin, the young blond man Alec had seen at Kyrin’s. “I prefer the Tirari myself.”
“Then you are denying yourself a great pleasure,” Reltheus told him. “Their lead actor is a marvel.”
“He entertained at my salon, Tolin,” added Alaya. “I’ve since been to his theater and really, it’s as good as anything I’ve seen in the Street of Lights. The plays are quite original.”
Tolin bowed to them. “Perhaps I shall try it one night, then.” But he sounded less than enthusiastic.
The ship skimmed across the harbor to a secluded cove on the seaward side of a wooded island just beyond the outer moles. Sailors rowed them ashore and Elani led the company up to a pretty wooden pavilion that stood in a clearing just above the shingle. Its ornately carved posts and railings were weathered silver with age and decked with flower garlands. While the servants prepared the midday meal and the older courtiers settled down to gamble and gossip, Elani, her ladies and sisters, and the younger nobles wandered the trails that wound through the woods to various vantage points overlooking the sea.
Seregil found himself revising his view of Elani. She’d been bored at Alaya’s salon until the talk had turned to hunting and bows, and had been cheerful and friendly at the lists. This island was clearly a special place for her, and she seemed much more her age as she held her youngest sister, Princess Leali, by the hand and led the party to gulls’ nests that covered the ground on the leeward side to see the fuzzy grey-and-white chicks, and on to a shadowed glade where
rare pink and white saphis flowers bloomed, the frilled, slipper-shaped blossoms swaying gently on their long stalks. There was a pond, as well, stocked with huge, precious gold-and-white-striped fish that rose greedily to eat the crumbs the girls scattered for them.
Duke Reltheus occupied a favored place at her side. He made her laugh, and she occasionally took his arm. Seregil and Alec, however, found themselves at the back of the pack among the lesser courtiers.
“Her Highness certainly seems fond of the duke,” Alec remarked to Earl Stenmir.
“She’s fonder of the father than the son, they say,” Tolin murmured, keeping his voice down. Then, without much warmth, “And you seem to have made quite an impression in a very short time, Lord Alec.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, but you have. Wouldn’t you say so, Lord Seregil?” Stenmir insisted with a somewhat nasty grin.
“They’re both archers,” Seregil said with a shrug.
Neither answer seemed to satisfy the count. “Of course, you’re some relation to the princess, aren’t you, Lord Seregil? Odd that we haven’t seen more of you at court. Is it true that you’re in trade?”
“I amuse myself with a few investments now and then,” Seregil replied with an easy smile, not rising to the bait of what was clearly intended as an insult.
“And with Lord Alec,” a young countess said with a laugh.
“A lucky thing for our friend Reltheus,” Duke Solis, a friendlier sort, noted, nudging Alec good-naturedly with his elbow. “He wouldn’t welcome any competition for a certain person’s hand.” He shot a meaningful look in Reltheus’s direction that no one missed.
“Do you think his hopes are well founded?” asked Seregil.
“I hear the son has caught the queen’s eye in the field,” Earl Stenmir sniffed. “And the princess royal is said to have been taken with Danos during a hunt. The young man is pleasant enough, but the father is quite the social climber, don’t you think?”
“I am honored to call the duke my friend,” Seregil replied
stiffly, recognizing a gossip trap. “I will thank you to keep such insulting opinions to yourself, my lord.”
Stenmir was clearly taken aback, given Seregil’s lower social rank. “I was merely making an observation.” With that he walked quickly to the head of the line and struck up a conversation with a marquis. The others who’d been walking with them moved away, as well, and that was the end of conversation for a while.
“You drew a little blood there,” Alec whispered in Aurenfaie.
Seregil chuckled. “At least it drove them off,” he replied in the same. “Tiresome lot. But I think we’ve both made a name for ourselves among them.” He nodded at Tolin, now walking with Elani. Reltheus had fallen back and was laughing with a portly duke. “I expect a bit of bad-mouthing is going on-in the most veiled way, of course. ‘I had no idea Lord Seregil was in trade.’ ‘My, but that lover of his is very young, don’t you think?’ ‘I’m surprised the queen hasn’t kept him at court. Isn’t that interesting?’ ”
Alec smothered a laugh. “You don’t think the princess is really interested in me, do you?”
“She’s a young girl, tali, surrounded by women and old men. I expect any handsome young fellow would at least catch her eye.” He slipped his arm through Alec’s and kissed him on the cheek for the benefit of those stealing glances back at them and added in Skalan, “Not that I’m in any way discounting your natural charms.”
The air in Dyer’s Street reeked of various pigments and their fixatives, mingled with the heavy odor of wet wool. Thero held up the hem of his blue robe as his horse splashed through a red puddle. The gutters here often overflowed, filling the street with swirling pools and rivulets of color-stained water and making islands of the cobblestones. A narrow boardwalk ran down each side of the street, for the benefit of those who had to pass through on foot.
Without an apprentice to send on errands, Thero did his own shopping. He happened to enjoy it, and welcomed the opportunity to get out of the Oreska House, something he
didn’t do often enough these days, as Seregil most annoyingly insisted on pointing out whenever he saw him. Alec wasn’t much better, always after him to come to the gambling houses with them, or the theater. These days the younger man was constantly talking about some actor he admired, the one Thero had missed meeting at his party. Thero had no interest in gambling, and little time for pointless pleasures.