Seregil, Alec, and Thero arrived at Kylith’s villa to find it already full of mourners and a cold feast laid out in the reception hall. Dead she might be, but Kylith’s hospitality lived on. Looking around, Seregil saw Eirual and a number of her courtesans, as well as Count Selin and Malthus. A very somber Ysmay was attending to the guests, dressed in black and jet.
Seregil went to her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Ysmay, I’m sorry for your loss. Thank you for sending word.”
“Of course,” she replied sadly. “She loved both of you very much.” She paused and dabbed at her eyes with an already damp and wrinkled lace handkerchief. Seregil took his out and pressed it into her hand.
“Thank you. It was so sudden! And she was so looking forward to the play last night. She just said she was a little tired. I had no idea-”
“I doubt she did, either, my dear,” Seregil said.
“May we see her?” asked Alec.
“I’ll be here,” Thero told them.
Ysmay led Seregil and Alec up the gilded marble staircase to Kylith’s bedchamber, where the lady was laid out on the bed in a magnificent gold-embroidered gown and slippers, and heavy gold and ruby jewelry. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, as always, and adorned with jeweled pins.
“You did her proud, Ysmay.” Seregil went to the bedside. “Rhiminee has lost some of its light today.” He placed a hand over Kylith’s where they rested on her breast and bent to kiss her brow. A single tear ran down her cheek as if she were weeping rather than him. Accepting Alec’s handkerchief, he carefully blotted the streak of moisture away so as not to mar her carefully applied cosmetics.
They returned downstairs to find Duke Reltheus there.
“Such a wonderful lady.” Reltheus sighed. “I wish I’d gotten to know her better.”
“Mother is devastated,” said Selin. “She was friends with her since before I was born. Lady Kylith was always there, my whole life, like an extra aunt.” He broke off and wiped his eyes.
Just then Atre was ushered in by the doorman. He could easily have been mistaken for a nobleman, so richly was he dressed and bejeweled. His mouth was set in a tragic line, and he looked pale and drawn.
“I hope I do not give offense with my presence,” he murmured, coming over to join them. He cast a curious look at Thero. “I could not believe the news. Though when you did not come to the theater last night- Such a tragedy!”
At this range Seregil could see that Atre was wearing a bit of cosmetics. His grief might be genuine, perhaps enough to affect his looks, but his vanity was clearly intact.
They exchanged condolences, then Atre went to offer his sympathies to the grieving niece.
“He must have been very fond of her,” said Thero.
“Perhaps, though I think he was more interested in her purse, which is now in the hands of Ysmay.”
Thero shook his head disapprovingly. “The man is nothing if not bold.”
“It’s a shame he and Kylith were on such strained terms at the end,” said Alec.
Ysmay was weeping in Atre’s arms now.
Seregil frowned, watching them. “It doesn’t seem to have affected relations with the niece. I suspect he’s just secured his new patron.”
CHAPTER 23. Malthus
“WELCOME, my friend, it’s been too long since you’ve dined with us!” Seregil exclaimed the following evening as Runcer ushered Duke Malthus into the salon. The theater was still closed in mourning for Kylith, and it was too soon to go out carousing.
“Not that long, certainly?” Malthus replied with a sad smile. “Terrible thing, Kylith. She’ll certainly be missed. Good evening, Alec.”
Alec shook hands. “Good to see you. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I must leave after supper for another appointment.”
“Not at all, dear boy! Attending to Princess Elani again?”
“No, Seregil forgot that I’d promised to visit Myrhichia tonight.”
Malthus raised an eyebrow at that.
“They’re friends,” Seregil said with a chuckle as he led the way to the dining room. “I understand you had an unfortunate bit of excitement at your house the other night.”
“You could call it that. Some servant left a candle burning in the library and set the room on fire.”
“Oh, dear! I hope the damage wasn’t too serious.”
“Fortunately it was confined to the library,” Malthus said with a sigh. “Gutted that room, though, and took all my books and papers with it. My wife has gone to our summer estate until the mess is dealt with.”
“How inconvenient for you,” Seregil commiserated, secretly relieved that he hadn’t done more damage than that. At least the fire had covered the theft.
He and Alec kept the conversation genial over the roast quail and white pear and cheese tart. As they adjourned to the library upstairs for Zengati brandy, Alec excused himself. “Good night, Malthus.”
“It’s been good talking with you.”
“I won’t be late, Seregil.”
“See that you’re not,” Seregil said teasingly.
When Alec was gone, Seregil closed the library door and locked it. “Malthus, I arranged for him to be gone. I have something very serious to speak of, and I don’t want him involved. I pray you’ll hear me out.”
The man raised a surprised eyebrow. “ Youbeing serious, Seregil? I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed that.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m serious now.” Seregil filled a cup for each of them from the crystal brandy decanter and sat down with him by the window. He paused and sipped his drink. “You know how gossip floats around the city.”
“Yes, and how you take it in.”
“Yes, well-This isn’t easy, my friend, but I’ve heard whisperings that a group of nobles may have ideas about putting Princess Klia on the throne, and- Well, your name came up.”
“That’s preposterous!” Malthus exclaimed indignantly, but he wasn’t as skillful a liar as Seregil. “Where did you hear this?”
“I can’t say, but I think by your expression that I’m not wide of the mark.”
“You’re wrong, Seregil. I wouldn’t have any part of that.” He paused, a little short of breath. “Have you told anyone else about this?”
“No, of course not. I speak to you as a friend, Malthus. And one concerned with your safety.” That last bit was true, at least.
The duke’s hand was unsteady as he sipped his brandy. “I appreciate your discretion and your concern, but you must put such thoughts out of your mind at once.”
“Of course.”
They sipped their drinks in silence for a few moments, then Malthus said, “Princess Elani is a fine girl, very intelligent, by all accounts. But she is very young, don’t you think?”
“She wouldn’t be the first green girl to wear the crown,” Seregil replied with a shrug. “But really, chances are she’ll be grown and more experienced before she has to rule. Phoria is healthy and from a long-lived line.”
“Her mother died in battle,” Malthus reminded him.
“Yes, she did. And I suppose you’re right to think there’s always that possibility. But deposing her heir? By the Light, that would mean civil war. You can’t want that.”
“Of course not.” Malthus paused. “You have gotten on very good terms with the princess, haven’t you? And Duke Reltheus, who’s so close to her.”
“Alec and I have that honor.”
Malthus gave him a thoughtful look. “Perhaps you’ve lost some of your affection for Klia.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, my friend, but I am and always will be Klia’s friend and supporter. And because of that, I could never believe that she would do anything that would threaten Skala’s well-being and stability. Don’t tell me you do?”
“No, but I’m not so certain about Reltheus and his lot.”
Seregil shook his head. “I’m completely confused. First it’s Klia, then it’s Reltheus. I’ve never heard anything of this from you before. Please, Malthus, speak plainly!”