"Thank you, Your Highness." He bent over it, pressed a kiss to its back, and then they took their places as the orchestra played the first few bars of a New Farnal country melody and the step-caller called out thecircle dance's first movement.
The dance was far more lively than the stylized, refined waltz which had preceded it. Kinlafia was obviously familiar with the steps, although despite his athleticism, he was not Howan Fai Goutin's equal as a dancer. Yet there was something profoundly soothing about him, and Andrin found herself actually laughing with delight as he twirled her through the dance's movements. And as she did, she realized it was precisely for that moment of escape that Kinlafia had asked her to dance.
It came to an end at last, and she tucked her hand into his elbow. He started to escort her back to where her abandoned suitors waited, but she looked up at him with a winsome smile
"If you please, Voice Kinlafia," she said, "I think I'd prefer a glass of lemonade."
"Nothing could please me more, Your Highness."
From one of the nobly born butterflies who had been fluttering about her so assiduously all evening, it would have been a pleasant nothing. From Kinlafia, it was a completely sincere statement, and she squeezed his elbow gently. He glanced down at her with a small smile, and she realized there was no need to explain to him what that squeeze was for.
Lazima chan Zindico trailed watchfully along behind, his eyes searching constantly for any tiny flaw in the crowd, any possible sign of danger for his charge.
He didn't find one, of course, which didn't prevent him from settling into what Andrin privately thought of as his "brooding protector mode" as Kinlafia seated her at one of the small, candlelit tables placed to catch the pleasant evening breeze swirling in through the wall of opened double doors. Kinlafia glanced at chan Zindico with a much more measuring eye than most of the young sprouts who had pestered Andrin all night ever showed. Obviously, the Voice recognized chan Zindico for what—and who—he truly was, whereas most of the spoiled, pampered aristocrats saw him only as one more item of furniture.
Andrin liked that.
Kinlafia disappeared for a moment or two, then returned with not one glass of punch, but four... and Prince Howan Fai Goutin and Alazon Yanamar. Andrin thanked the Voice for the glass and raised it to her lips a bit more quickly than she might otherwise have to hide her smile. She'd wondered when Alazon would turn up. She also wondered how long it would be before the reporters noticed that wherever "candidate Kinlafia" happened to be, the Emperor's Privy Voice was virtually certain to turn up, and vice versa. The thought tickled her fancy, and her eyes gleamed mischievously as she considered how she might twit the two of them. The two Voices were busy looking at one another, and Andrin's dancing eyes met Prince Howan's equally amused gaze for just a moment.
"Forgive me, Voice Kinlafia," she said then, lowering her glass, "but I've noticed that some of the papers and some of the Voice reports are commenting on how much time you seem to be spending here in the Palace. There's speculation that your presence here indicates you've decided to become one of 'Zindel's men.'"thinspace""
She paused, and Kinlafia cocked his head slightly to one side.
"I've seen the reports, Your Highness," he said. "May I ask why you mention them?"
"I know from something Yanamar said that Father didn't want it to seem as if he was too openly supporting your candidacy. But I've also noticed he seems to be spending an extraordinary amount of time talking to you ... especially for someone who hasn't even won election yet. I was just wondering if you and he had changed your minds about the possible implications of his openly supporting you. Or, at least, appearing to support you?"
She looked at him very steadily, and saw something like recognition flicker back in those brown eyes of his, but he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he sat there for several seconds, gazing at her thoughtfully
—much as Shamir Taje might have. That thought danced through the back of Andrin's brain, and as it did, she realized that one of the things which most appealed to her about Kinlafia was that he and Taje were the only two men, apart from her father, who didn't seem to care about her youthfulness when she asked a question. They actually thought about those questions, about their responses to them, because they extended respect to the person asking them, not simply out of courtesy to the title of that person.
Then he tilted his head to one side, glancing at Prince Howan, and arched one eyebrow.
"King Junni has become one of Father's closer allies, Voice Kinlafia," Andrin told him. "I don't think we need to worry about the Prince's discretion, do we, Your Highness?"
"Most assuredly not, Your Grand Imperial Highness," Prince Howan responded with a slight smile. His Ternathian had improved enormously over the last couple of months, thanks in no small part to the services of a Voice language tutor, and the irony in his tone came through perfectly. Then his expression sobered. "Still, I will certainly understand if Voice Kinlafia would prefer to answer your question in privacy."
The Eniathian prince started to stand, but Kinlafia shook his head.
"If Her Highness trusts your discretion, Prince Howan, then certainly I do, as well," he said. The prince looked at him for a moment, then inclined his head in a small bow which mingled acknowledgment and appreciation of the implicit compliment. He sat back down, and Kinlafia turned to Andrin.
"Actually, Your Highness, I don't really think you were wondering about campaign strategies at all, were you?"
Andrin's eyes widened. Despite what she'd just been thinking, his directness—and perceptiveness—
surprised her. No wonder Alazon was so attracted to him!
"You're right," she admitted. "I suppose I'm just not used to asking such questions directly."
"With all due respect, Your Highness," Alazon put in, "you should get used to it." Andrin looked at her, and the Privy Voice shrugged. "You happen to be Heir-Secondary, Your Highness. Yes, you're young.
But don't let the natural deference of youth keep you from asking the questions you need to ask and demanding the answers to them."
Andrin glanced at Prince Howan, the only other person at the table remotely her own age. His expression gave away very little, but she thought she saw a trace of agreement in his almond eyes as he looked at the Privy Voice. And as Andrin considered the advice herself, she remembered that Alazon Yanamar was far more than simply her father's privy voice. She thought about it for several seconds, then nodded in acknowledgment and moved her eyes back to Kinlafia.
"Taking Alazon's advice, Voice Kinlafia, am I just imagining that Father—and First Councilor Taje—
both seem to be treating you much more as if you'd been a family adviser for years than like someone who just got back from Hell's Gate less than two weeks ago?"
"I—" Kinlafia began, and paused. He looked very thoughtful for a moment or two, then he gave a little shrug of his own—very much like Alazon's had been—and nodded.
"I wouldn't say they regard me as any sort of adviser, Your Highness. And they certainly don't regard me as any sort of retainer, or as some sort of official member of your household or administration. But there have been certain ... developments, since your brother sent that flatteringly inaccurate letter of recommendation to your father. I'd really rather not go into all of them at this point, but—" he looked into her eyes once more "—some of them, at least, concern you."
"Me?" Andrin's pulse fluttered ever so slightly as she remembered her own thoughts during the Unification Parade. "Is it something Father's Glimpsed?" she asked.
"To some extent, yes."
She could tell Kinlafia hadn't really wanted to admit that, yet she felt strangely certain he'd never been tempted to lie to her, however diplomatically. The front of her brain told her she should take her cue from him, let it rest where it was. She'd already learned more than she'd really expected to, after all.