The woman was very beautiful, and much younger than her husband. Her eyes shone as she took in Thero’s rich, silver-embroidered blue robes. “I do hope you’ll show us a bit of magic while we wait.”
“He’s not a performing bear, my dear,” the duke told her with an indulgent laugh.
“Thero doesn’t mind!” Seregil chimed in. “Do you, Thero? You do such pretty magics.”
“Of course not,” Thero replied, resisting the temptation to use a little magic to shove Seregil over the box railing. Looking around, he found a bowl of pears. One of them still had a few leaves clinging to the stem. He held it on his outstretched palm before the young duchess, drew his wand for effect, cast a shimmer of light for show, and turned the pear into a plump wooden rabbit with leaf-shaped ears. It was a simple permutation, transforming a pear to pear wood, but Palmani giggled like a little girl as she held it up for the others to see.
“I heard you were clever,” Reltheus said, and probably meant it as a compliment.
“You’ll like this play, I promise,” Alec said, sitting down beside Thero. “The main character is a wizard, and Atre carries it off well.”
Wine and plates of dainties were served as they waited. Thero nibbled a few and looked around, recognizing faces in the boxes around them.
“This company certainly attracts a fashionable crowd,” he remarked.
“Yes, and to think they were nothing more than street players in the spring,” said Reltheus.
“We have you two and Lady Kylith to thank for that,” Palmani said, then placed a hand on Seregil’s arm. “I’m sorry. Does the memory of her give you pain?”
“More pleasure than pain, my lady,” Seregil replied sadly. “By the Light, I miss her! That’s her chair you’re sitting in. No, no, don’t get up,” he added quickly when Palmani went to rise. “She’d be so pleased you’re here. She would have adored you.”
As the others conversed, Thero paid special attention to Reltheus. The man was a charmer, certainly, and his regard for Seregil and Alec appeared to be genuine. The wizard chanced brushing the man’s mind, but Reltheus was thinking only of his companions and the pleasure of being in the theater.
A few moments later there was a stir in the crowd near the theater doors. A herald in blue and white stepped in and announced loudly, “Her Highness, the Princess Royal, Elani, accompanied by His Highness and Vicegerent, Prince Korathan, and Archduchess Alaya.”
Everyone stood and bowed as the royal party made their way to Seregil’s box to join them.
“Your Highnesses, welcome!” Seregil said, bowing with the others.
“Thank you for your invitation,” Elani replied, kissing Palmani and Reltheus on both cheeks before taking her place in the central seat of honor, flanked by Alaya and her uncle. She was quite lovely tonight, glittering in crystal-spangled sea-green silk that brought out the royal green in her eyes and the sparkle of the diamond pins in her hair. “Mother is having
one of her headaches tonight, so I brought Uncle Korathan instead.”
“Delighted to see you, Your Highness,” Seregil said.
Korathan allowed himself a small smile. “My niece was most persuasive.”
“He hasn’t come to see these players once!” Elani told them.
“He was always pestering his mother to take him to the theater as a boy,” Alaya put in, giving the prince a fond look.
“There wasn’t a war on then, my dears,” Korathan replied.
To Thero’s surprise, Elani leaned forward and smiled at him. “I remember you! You came to Duke Reltheus’s hunt last winter. You’re the one who made the snow catamount for the children, and the golden diadem out of pine tips. I still have it.”
“I am deeply honored, Your Highness.”
“He just made this for me!” Palmani proudly showed off her rabbit.
“Allow me, Your Highness.” Thero picked another pear from the bowl and made one for the princess, this one sitting up on its haunches. Elani and the other women exclaimed over it like delighted children as he presented it to her.
As Elani admired it, Thero cast a brief spell, looking for any tinge of magic around her or the others. There were just a few excellent protections on Elani and Korathan, cast no doubt by the court wizard, but nothing malevolent.
Presently the house lights were snuffed and the play began. There was a brief prologue delivered by a beautiful dark-haired woman, then the heavy curtains opened to reveal a cleverly painted background and set pieces that were someone’s idea of what a wizard’s workroom looked like. It was a bit overdone, but Thero refrained from saying so.
Presently the handsome Atre appeared in an approximation of Oreska robes and began declaiming his intention to capture the heart of some unwilling woman with magic. Why on earth had Alec assumed he’d like this play? It was an appalling misuse of power! He glanced over at Seregil, who was sitting to Alec’s right, and his friend gave him a maddeningly innocent grin.
Since he couldn’t very well leave, he poured himself a cup of wine and settled in to critique every error. But instead he found himself caught up in the story, which was far more complex than he’d expected, with very good costuming. He was actually enjoying himself when, at the beginning of the second act, a new actor came onstage. He was an imposing presence, very tall, with a long, stern face and red hair. It took Thero a moment to place him but he had an excellent memory for faces, even those he’d only glimpsed, and he certainly remembered that hair. This was the man from Painted Lane, the one on whom he’d thought he sensed magic.
“Who is that?” he whispered to Alec.
“Brader. He plays the second lead quite often. Good, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Thero murmured, gaze fixed on the actor. “Would it be possible for me to meet him after the play?”
“Yes, of course. We’re dining with them afterward.” Alec gave him a knowing grin. “I told you you’d like it, didn’t I? Though it’s usually Atre that catches people’s eye.”
“He’s quite remarkable. But I think I’ve seen the other one-Brader-before.”
“Really, where?”
“Are you two going to talk through the entire play?” Korathan hissed.
Alec gave the wizard a comical look of embarrassment and settled back in his chair. Thero had to content himself with watching the rest of the play, impatient to get a closer look at this Brader fellow. Gradually the plot recaptured his interest, and by the end of the play he was hoping he was wrong, impressed as he was with the troupe’s talent.
After the actors had taken their bows, Thero and his party waited in the box until the theater emptied, then went down to the stage area. When the actors came out to present themselves to Elani, Brader was not among them.
“Your Highnesses, may I present Master Atre and his company,” Seregil said, doing the honors.
“I’m so happy to see you onstage, after that wonderful performance you gave at Alaya’s that night!” Elani said, clearly
enchanted. She gave Merina a golden ring and Atre a small brooch studded with emeralds. “In honor of seeing you onstage at last. I hope you will keep them as a remembrance.”
“As I do this ring, Highness,” Atre said, showing her a ring set with a large amethyst. He knelt dramatically and kissed her hand while the rest of the company bowed and curtsied.
“Dare I hope you will join us for dinner with the company, Your Highnesses?” asked Seregil.
“No,” Korathan replied, though Elani had for an instant looked hopeful.
Brader came in from the wings just then, and although he was still several yards away, that strange feeling shivered up Thero’s back again, muted, but unpleasant. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and then Seregil was introducing him to the man.
“My lord, we’re honored by your presence,” Brader said to Thero. “This is your first time with us, isn’t it?”
“It is, Master Brader.”
“I hope you weren’t offended by our humble efforts in portraying your vocation?”