After that, when we were properly seated, I asked, “The day after, what did you think of last night?”
“Your parents are sweet. They don’t understand you, and they worry about you.”
“They worry about the wrong things,” I pointed out, “and they’d worry themselves to death if they knew half of what’s happened to me.” Not to mention what hadn’t happened and might yet.
She smiled. “I’m glad you don’t protect me that way.”
That brought me up short. Why didn’t I? Because I knew Seliora was stronger? “I trust you to understand. Also . . . your family . . . your background . . . you all do understand the undercurrents. My father knows they’re there, and he does his best to avoid them, without overtly even acknowledging their existence.”
She poured Sanietra for us, then said, “Grandmama found out some of what you asked about Madame D’Shendael.”
I waited.
“She was the only child of High Holder Shendael and his wife Helenia. According to Ailphens, everyone was surprised that there was even one child, given all of Shendael’s young male friends . . .”
I kept my nod to myself.
“. . . the estate was really Helenia’s, but of course she had to marry to keep her status. Right after the daughter-that’s Madame D’Shendael-reached eighteen, Shendael was shot. Helenia was charged with the murder. Ailphens said that sections of the public records are missing, except for those dealing directly with Helenia’s execution.” Seliora looked to me.
“What did Grandmama add?”
She shook her head ruefully. “Shendael’s only male relative died on a hunting trip when his rifle exploded. That was actually right after the trial.”
“How do you think Emanus managed it?” I asked.
“Do you think he had anything to do with the senior Shendael’s murder?”
“No, but I’d wager that he had that male relative killed so that no one could contest his daughter’s holding.” I’d also have wagered that Helenia hadn’t been the one to fire the shot that killed her husband, but that she’d accepted the blame to save her daughter, not that I’d ever find any proof of any of that.
“That doesn’t explain why Emanus was killed,” Seliora pointed out. “If Madame D’Shendael were worried about her father . . .”
“He gave up everything to protect her. It can’t be that.”
“It has to be connected to her in some way.”
We talked a bit more, agreeing on that, but we couldn’t think of how, at least not based on what we knew. Finally, Seliora lifted her glass and sipped, then asked, “What are you doing next week?”
“Did I tell you that I have to stand duty, so to speak, at the Council’s Harvest Ball?”
“When is that?”
“Vendrei night. I’m also supposed to watch closely for trouble and be ready to dance with any woman in distress or who appears to have been deserted on the dance floor, so to speak.”
“What women?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to anything like it. I’ve been told it’s for councilors and their guests, and that a great many who attend are High Holders.”
“You’d better be even more careful about any young High Holder women.”
“Even more?”
“Rhenn . . . isn’t it obvious? What kind of man is the only kind that a woman who wants to escape that gilded prison could marry? Especially a younger daughter of many in an important family, or one from a declining family.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. My face must have showed it.
She offered her soft and warm laugh. “You’re handsome, intelligent, and muscular, and to be at the Ball, even as a sort of guard, means that you’re a more promising imager. Also, you’re one of the few that they can meet.”
“But . . . no one has ever said that we’re imagers, and we’re not allowed to admit it.”
She laughed. “Don’t the councilors know? And you think that some of them wouldn’t tell their families?”
Once more, she had a point. “I don’t even know if there will be any women of that age and inclination.”
“If there’s a fancy ball and men . . . there will be. Not the type you’d prefer, but you may well be the type that they prefer. Don’t let them.” The last words were as warm as those that preceded them, but I could sense claws within them.
“Yes, mistress.”
She mock-slapped me, her hand stopping just short of my cheek, then tapping it lightly.
“Beyond the Ball, nothing is happening, except you. I’d hoped we could do something next Samedi.”
“Would you mind attending a wedding with me-on Samedi?”
“A wedding? Is someone in the family getting married?” I hoped she wasn’t asking me. Much as I liked, even loved Seliora, I wasn’t certain I was ready to be married.
“No, I’m not even hinting. You aren’t ready.” She kissed my cheek. “It’s Father’s niece Yaena. If you could meet us here at a little before noon?”
“I can do that, but I don’t have wedding garb.” I did, from Rousel’s wedding, but as an imager, I couldn’t wear it, and I wasn’t certain it even fit any longer.
“Your grays are suitable anywhere.” I got another kiss.
In the end, we didn’t talk so much as just sit in the afternoon and be with each other.
69
Everyone has rules; but yours are always wrong.
On Lundi evening, Maitre Dyana dismissed me after lessons saying that she’d taught me what I could learn about poisons and imaging at the stage of life experience I had, an interesting way of putting it, I thought. On Mardi, Master Dichartyn said that he’d be too occupied to see me, except in a dire emergency, for at least a week. I also received a short letter from Mother.
Dear Rhenn,
We all enjoyed meeting your young lady ever so much. She is charming, cultured, intelligent, and beautiful. I can understand your caution, but, as Culthyn said, “Rhenn should be ashamed of himself for making everyone worry so much.”
I strongly doubted Culthyn said any such thing, but it was a convenient fiction through which Mother could chide me for making her worry about my not finding a suitable young lady.
We all hope it will not be too long before we see both of you again. We are considering having a larger dinner for some of our friends near the end of Erntyn, and trust you will be able to join us then. I will send you the formal invitation when we receive them next week . . .
Now that I had found a suitable young lady, Mother couldn’t wait to display her to everyone. But I suppose that was minor compared to what else was happening in the world.
According to the newsheets, particularly Veritum, the situation between Jariola and Ferrum was continuing to worsen. On Meredi morning, the lead story featured a statement by the Ferran minister of state that described Jariola as “a land governed by reactionary landholders who understand nothing of commerce and less of government.” He went on to claim that oligarchs like Khasis III and certain High Holders in other lands were mere parasites on a country’s productive capability, as were worker drones who wanted employers to pay for everything while working less and less. From that alone, even had I not been forced to study Ferrum in more depth by Master Dichartyn, I wouldn’t have had much trouble in determining that Ferrum was what I would have called a mercantile empire.
Other than those events, not much of interest occurred during the week, and, while I was interested in seeing what happened at the Council’s Harvest Ball, and learning what I could from observing, I was far more interested in seeing Seliora on Samedi, even if it happened to be a family wedding.
On Vendrei morning, as soon as we arrived at the Council Chateau, Baratyn gave us a final briefing on the Council’s Harvest Ball.
“As I told you, not everyone will be a councilor or a family member. Each councilor has five invitations, and each invitation is good for two people, usually a couple, but it could be for daughters or sons. In addition, there are invitations to the justices of the High Court of Solidar and a number of other functionaries, including the more important envoys from other lands. You will doubtless see other faces you have seen at the Collegium. Do not speak to them unless they address you. Your function is twofold, to watch for anything untoward and to stop it without anyone noticing”-his eyes flicked to me, momentarily-“and to serve as dance partners for ladies in need, with discretion, or if asked. You will, of course, wear the formal white and gray jackets. You all have one, do you not?”