“Fine, thank you. I’m such a clumsy ass. You can see all the grace in the family wound up on Verena’s side.” Locke swept the coins back into the purse. “Sorry about your game.”
“It was just a solitary diversion,” said Boulidazi, as he helped Sabetha into a chair. “And yes, on holidays, we do give gratuities to the help, but there’s a little ceremony and some temple nonsense. You needn’t worry about it.”
“Well, we’re obliged to you,” said Locke, relieved that he could escape without surrendering any of the flash bag funds. All Boulidazi had to do was believethat money was no real object to them.
“Now,” said Sabetha, “I suppose you’d like to find out why we’ve come to you.”
“Of course,” said Boulidazi. “But first, why not tell me what it would please you to be called, if not Dona Botallio?”
“That’s easy,” said Sabetha, flashing a smile that hit Locke like a boot to the chest even though he wasn’t positioned to catch its full effect. “You should call me Verena.”
“Verena,” said the baron. “Then I beg that you’ll call me Gennaro, and let no more ‘Lord Boulidazis’ clutter the air between us.”
“With pleasure,” said Sabetha.
“Gennaro,” said Locke, “we’re here to discuss the situation of a man named Jasmer Moncraine.”
“What?”
“To put it even more plainly,” said Sabetha, “we’ve come to ask that you decline to state your charges against him.”
“You want me to forgivehim?”
“Or appear to,” said Sabetha sweetly.
“That arrogant piss-ant struck me before witnesses,” said Boulidazi. “With the backof his hand! You can’t expect me to believe that a Camorriwould bear such a thing, were either of you in my place!”
“If I had nothing to win by a display of mercy,” said Locke, “I’d have whipped the stupid bastard’s face into bloody mince. And if none of us stood to gain right now, I’d go to court with you merely for the pleasure of hearing the sentence read.”
“We’re not strangers to Moncraine,” said Sabetha. “We’ve been to see him at the Weeping Tower—”
“Why?”
“Please,” said Sabetha, “just listen. We know what a fool he is. We’re not here to discuss the brighter facets of his character, because we know he doesn’t have any, and we’re not asking for mercy for its own sake. We’d like to propose a mutually profitable arrangement.”
“How could I possibly profit,” said Boulidazi, “by accepting disgrace in front of the entire city?”
“First, tell us: Were you serious about wanting to fund Moncraine’s troupe and buy out his debts?” said Locke.
“I was,” said the baron. “I certainly was, until he decided to thank me by lunging at me like an ape.”
“Why did you make the offer?”
“I grew up attending his plays,” said Boulidazi. “Mother loved the theater. Moncraine really used to be something, back before … well, years ago.”
“And you wanted to be a patron,” said Locke.
“All my family money is sitting safe in vaults, gathering dust and shitting interest. I thought I’d do something meaningful for a change. Pick Moncraine up, run things properly, associate my name with something.” Boulidazi drummed his fingers against one arm of his chair. “What the hell can Moncraine possibly mean to you?”
“I came here to be part of his troupe for the summer,” said Sabetha. “I, ah, I have a certain inclination. It’s awkward to talk about myself, though. Lucaza, would you?”
“Of course,” said Locke. “Cousin Verena has always loved the theater, as much of it as she could get in Camorr. Grandfather’s hired players a dozen times for her. But she’s always wanted to be onstage. To act. And that’s just not done.”
“If I’d taken up alchemy,” said Sabetha, “or gardening, or painting, or investment, that’d be fine. I could even ride off to war, if we had ever had any. But noble heirs don’t go onstage, not in Camorr.”
“Not if they want to inherit,” said Locke. “And grandfather won’t be with us forever. After him it’s uncle, and after uncle it’s Verena.”
“Countess Blackspear, eh?” said Boulidazi.
“Whether or not we keep Blackspear is up to the duke; the Five Towers are his to dispose of. But our lands wouldn’t go anywhere. If Blackspear was rescinded, I’d be countess of the old family estates.”
“So you’ve come here posing as an actress to avoid a scandal in Camorr.”
“You understand perfectly,” said Sabetha. “Verena Gallante can have a summer or two onstage in Espara, and then Verena Botallio can go back to being respectable back home. That’s the bargain I struck with Father, also provided Lucaza and a few trusted men came along to keep an eye on me.”
“And that’s the understanding we had with Moncraine,” said Locke. “We’d furnish several actors, and he’d make use of us in a play. Imagine our surprise when we arrived this afternoon to discover the situation.”
“Imagine my surprise when Moncraine attacked me!” said Boulidazi. “You’re putting me between two fires, my friends. I can protect my dignity according to the laws and customs of Espara, or I can grant this request, to which I would normally be very happily disposed. I can’t do both.”
“If you withdrew from chastising Moncraine out of cowardice or indifference,” said Sabetha, “then I agree, your behavior would be improper. But what if your peers could see that you had forgiven him for the sake of a greater design?”
“Mercy,” said Locke, bringing his hands slowly together as though squeezing his words into one mass as he spoke them, “ambition, artistry, and good old-fashioned financial sense. All at once.”
“Moncraine wants nothing to do with me,” said Boulidazi, “and I’m pleased to return the sentiment. Let the bastard rot for a year and a day. Maybe he’ll grow some discretion when he loses his hand.”
“I don’t have a year and a day, Gennaro,” said Sabetha.
“Then why not see Basanti? He’s the success. Built his own theater, even. I’m sure he’d put you onstage in a heartbeat. You’re certainly, uh …”
“Yes?”
“You’d certainly have a great many eyes following you attentively, if you’ll pardon my boldness.”
“Pardon gladly extended. But if Basanti’s really the thing, why didn’t you approach him about a partnership rather than Moncraine?”
“Basanti has no need of a bandage on his finances. Besides, there’s nothing to buildwhere he’s concerned. It’s hard to take credit for something already achieved.”
“Believe it or not, we feel much the same about Moncraine,” said Sabetha. “He’s a means to an end. Forgive him. Let him go free, and I guarantee he’ll accept your patronage.”
“What makes you assume I’m still willing to offer it?”
“Come now, Gennaro,” said Sabetha, deepening her voice a little, adopting a slightly teasing tone. “Don’t punish yourselffor Moncraine’s stupidity. Your plan was a good one.”
“If you help us in this,” said Locke, “you’ll have him entirely in your power. Financial debt and moral debt, and you’ll have us to keep him in line.”
“The Moncraine-Boulidazi Company,” said Sabetha.
“Or the Boulidazi-Moncraine Company,” said Locke.
“I’ll look weak,” said the baron, but his voice had the wavering quality of a man nearly ready to go over the edge of the precipice they were nudging him toward.
“You’ll look clever,” he said. “Hells, you’ll look like you might have planned the whole thing all along to stir up notice!”
“That’s marvelous!” said Sabetha. “At the end of the summer, after we’ve whipped satisfaction out of Moncraine, you let slip that the whole affair was just a ploy for attention. That’s the payoff for a little bit of pain in court tomorrow! Basanti will be forgotten in a moment, and all the city’s admiration will settle on what you’ve done.”
“You’ll look like a bloody genius,” said Locke, immensely pleased with himself.