Reader And Raelynx

CHAPTER 9

SENNETH found herself enjoying Kirra’s visit as she had not enjoyed anything in weeks. It was just so frivolous and girlish and-and-unimportant to spend the days combing through all the fine merchandise in the Ghosenhall shops, debating over the merits of blond lace or white, picking out rugs and curtains and goblets.

“Ellynor will want to choose some of her household furnishings herself, I’m sure,” Senneth said as she held up a beautifully embroidered quilt. “We should hold back a little, perhaps.”

“You didn’t spend this much time shopping for your own house,” Kirra retorted. “I’ve never seen you look at so much frilly stuff in my life.”

Senneth smiled. “I don’t like bows and ribbons and clutter. But it’s making me happy to pick things out for someone else.”

Kirra held up a pair of pillowcases, even more elaborately embroidered than the quilt. “Can you picture Justin laying his head on this?” she said, choking back a giggle. “Do you think he’s ever used a pillow in his life?”

That made Senneth laugh again, abandoning any notions of restraint.

It had been so long since she had been able to focus on anything that was inconsequential and fun. That had no chance of resulting in someone’s death, or the overthrow of the king, or the complete reshaping of the world.

If you were going to spend a day immersing yourself in frivolity, Kirra was the ideal companion.

They shopped and bought, pausing for meals, and then shopped and bought some more. Kirra seemed to have wholly recovered from her distress at seeing Romar Brendyn, though she had made a point of avoiding the formal dinner the previous night.

“While we’re buying things for Justin, we might be considering what to give our siblings for their wedding,” Kirra said as they sat at a bakery and ate sweets to recover their strength.

“You have given Danalustrous to Casserah. Surely that’s enough of a gift?” Senneth said. Kirra was the eldest daughter and by rights should inherit the House, but her father had determined that Casserah would make the better landholder. So he had bestowed the property on his youngest child instead.

“Oh, and I have given her my loyalty. Another expensive present,” Kirra said. “You’re right. She can’t possibly expect anything more.”

“And my gift will be my attendance at the event, since I hate affairs like this,” Senneth said. “Everyone will be so impressed by that they won’t look for a wrapped box with my name on it.”

“Did your family present you with any gifts upon the occasion of your own wedding?” Kirra asked. “I’m sure your brothers were disappointed that you chose to elope.”

“I’m sure they were relieved,” Senneth retorted. “How to explain to the Brassenthwaite vassals that the serramarra is taking a King’s Rider for her husband? You know that Nate was mortified just at the thought of such a disastrous alliance. I did them a favor by marrying where no one could witness the humiliation.”

Kirra waved this away. “So? Presents?”

Senneth grinned and nodded. “Trinkets and some cash. Not that we needed either, but I suppose the gesture was kind.”

“And you like being married?”

“I like it very much indeed.”

She could not have such conversations with anyone else-not Tayse, not Cammon, none of the Riders, certainly not the king. Her adventurous life had not left Senneth with an overabundance of close friends, and she had been estranged from her family too long to ever want to confide in her four brothers. But restless, irrepressible, unpredictable Kirra was the one woman in Gillengaria that Senneth absolutely trusted, and that meant she could count on Kirra to fight at her back or give her advice on love.

Strange.

They returned to the palace grounds tired and happy, but once they arrived at the cottage, Senneth learned her day wasn’t over. A note from Milo had been slipped under the door. The king requests your presence at dinner this evening.

“You’ve probably got one just like it in your room,” Senneth said, showing the invitation to Kirra.

“Well, I’m not going,” Kirra said. “I just won’t return to the palace. I’ll stay here and add our new purchases to Justin’s cottage. Oh, sorry, Majesty, I didn’t receive the note until too late.”

Senneth shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re one of Baryn’s favorites.”

Kirra smiled and tossed her gold curls. “I’m so charming that he has to forgive my poor manners.”

“But is charm ever really enough?” Senneth asked, with mock solemnity.

“It better be. Because that and hair are all I’ve got.”

Though not interested in attending the meal herself, Kirra supervised Senneth’s toilette and even modified the bronze-colored gown Senneth had chosen to wear. Kirra was a shape-shifter, but she could also change anything she put a hand to if she felt like it, and now she traced a finger over the décolletage of Senneth’s dress.

“You simply cannot go up to the palace with a dress so high-necked it’s practically strangling you,” Kirra insisted. “There. That’s more attractive. Now everyone can see this lovely necklace Tayse gave you and they’ll realize you’ve got a housemark under the pendant. Make them remember you’re a serramarra! Make them treat you like one, too.”

The gold sphere did indeed fall perfectly over the Brassenthwaite housemark burned into Senneth’s skin just above her breasts. She’d spent a good seventeen years of her life wishing she could erase that symbol of her family heritage, and now here she was, living a life where she was forced to flaunt it again.

“That’s too low. Change it back,” she commanded, but Kirra shook her head.

“I won’t. Go up there and flirt with somebody. Give Tayse something to worry about.”

Senneth tugged futilely at the neckline, which left her feeling ridiculously exposed. “You’re the most wretched girl!” she exclaimed. “I don’t have time or I’d put on a different dress.”

“And I’d change that one, too. Go! Have a lovely dinner.”

Naturally, the meal was not lovely, but it wasn’t dreadful, either. Senneth actually ended up being pleased that she had attended, because Ryne Coravann was there with his sister, Lauren. Ryne, of course, was courting Amalie and sat next to her for the meal. He was tall and dark, neither as bulky nor as sensible as his father. Senneth scarcely knew him, but she liked Lauren, and she made it a point to approach the Coravann serramarra as they gathered in the salon after the meal.

“So you have accompanied your brother as he makes his bow to the princess,” Senneth greeted her. “Do you find it odd? I was with my brother Will last year as he paid court to Casserah Danalustrous, and it was a most peculiar experience.”

Lauren smiled. She was as dark as Ryne and just as attractive, but had a much greater air of self-possession. “I cannot think Amalie will choose him from all her suitors,” Lauren said. “He’s very wild. But my father wanted him to come, and I jumped at the chance to visit the royal city.”

“How are your Lirren relatives?” Senneth asked, for Lauren and Ryne were the rarest of creatures: products of a marriage between a Lirren woman and a Gillengaria man.

“Some of them were arriving just as we left,” said Lauren, “and with a most incredible tale! Perhaps you’d heard that two of my cousins were novices at the Lumanen Convent?”

“I did know that.”

“And one of them has run away with a King’s Rider! They are actually married, he said. Do you know how unlikely that is?”

“I lived in the Lirrenlands for a few years. I know,” Senneth said, amused. “But I cannot help but think this is an excellent match. I know the Rider, and I met the girl.”

“That’s more than I’ve ever done. I’ve met many of my Lirren relatives, but the younger women rarely travel across the mountains, and I’ve never seen these two,” Lauren said.

“I have been wondering,” Senneth said, “how Coralinda Gisseltess took the news? I know she could not have been happy that one of her novices fled the convent. And I know your father holds her in high regard. So, I thought perhaps you might have heard something.”

For a moment, Lauren’s serene face looked troubled. “She came to Coravann Keep just a week or two ago,” she said. “The tale came up. You could tell she was trying to control her temper, but she was still enraged. This girl was a mystic, apparently, and Coralinda had wanted to exorcise the magic from her veins. She did not say how. But the girl eluded her and escaped the convent-Again, Coralinda did not elaborate. I watched her hands as she told the tale. They were clenched so hard I thought her bones must hurt.”

“I believe Coralinda was at the Keep last summer when your father held his ball,” Senneth said, her voice neutral. “Does she visit you often?”

Lauren had smoothed her face out, but it was clear she was not entirely at ease. “My father thinks of Coralinda Gisseltess as a devout and reverend lady,” she said slowly. “He worships the Pale Mother himself and has always worn a moonstone pendant. My father would never harm a mystic-my father in general is the most gentle of men-and he does not seem to believe that Coralinda Gisseltess offers any real threat to anyone, mystics included.”

This was interesting. “And you do?”

Lauren raised her dark eyes to Senneth’s face. “I hear the rumors, serra. About how she sends her men out to murder mystics in their beds. I do not like her. I do not trust her. I believe she is capable of doing exactly what they say.”

Senneth nodded. “And I know she is. Last fall, the king sent a Rider to spy on the convent, and that Rider followed Coralinda’s men as they rode to the houses where mystics lay. Her soldiers burned those houses to the ground. She wants to rid the realm of mystics, and she will stop at nothing until they are all dead.”

Senneth paused and glanced over at Ryne Coravann, who was standing beside the regent, a glass of wine in his hand. He had apparently already had a few drinks, for his handsome face was flushed and he was laughing immoderately. And Romar Brendyn was not a particularly amusing man.

“Halchon Gisseltess, on the other hand, wants to rid the realm of Baryn and his heirs,” Senneth added slowly. “I am not sure it is in your best interests to promote a match between the princess and your brother. I believe Halchon Gisseltess wants to take the country to war in order to win the throne for himself. Anyone who marries Amalie is likely to find himself facing down an assassin before the year is out.”

“My father does not believe war will come,” the girl said.

Senneth returned her attention to Lauren. In a deliberate voice, she replied, “Your father is wrong.”

BARYN wanted Senneth’s attendance the following morning-more to trade gossip than anything else, she realized. “What about Ryne Coravann? What do you think?” he asked as they settled in his untidy blue study and sipped hot tea.

Senneth eyed him over the rim of her cup. He looked worn and weary today, she thought. His flyaway gray hair was particularly unkempt this morning, and he had dressed himself in what had to be his oldest and most comfortable clothes. Still, his eyes were bright and sharp, and he waited with eager interest for her reply.

“I think he’s immature and hardly fit for marriage with anyone, if what you want is a proper husband for your daughter,” she replied bluntly. “If all you’re looking for is a bloodline that will satisfy the marlords, he might do. But I cannot imagine he will bring Amalie anything but heartache if she were ever to try to love him.”

He seemed neither offended nor alarmed. “I would like to say that love is unimportant, but you have proven in the most flamboyant way that you believe it is the card that trumps all others,” he said, his tone mild. “Perhaps I should be looking for advice from other quarters.”

She smiled. “Perhaps you should.”

“What do you think of Toland Storian? For he will be coming soon to pay court to my daughter.”

She almost spit out a mouthful of tea. “I hate him. And so does Amalie. He’s boorish and arrogant, and we had ample opportunity to observe that for ourselves last summer.”

The king was amused. “Yes-I believe there was some incident when you set him on fire?”

“Kirra arranged that,” she said hastily. “She provoked him on purpose. He behaved badly, and I had to protect Amalie.”

“In truth, I am not eager to see her wed Ryne Coravann or Toland Storian,” he said. “Let us see what our choices are after all the young men have come courting.”

She blew on her tea. “Do you have a favorite?”

He shrugged. “I would like to see her marry a man from Brassenthwaite or Rappengrass or Danalustrous,” he said. “A nobleman, of course, but not necessarily a serramar. Someone intelligent and kind, who would allow himself to be influenced by Romar.”

“Well, intelligent, kind, and easily dominated are not words that typically describe the men of Brassenthwaite, but I’ll ask my brother Kiernan to look around,” Senneth said dryly. “There must be some Thirteenth House lords lurking about who would be happy to see their sons marry into royalty.”

Baryn tapped the fingers of one hand against his cheek. “There has been more talk,” he said. “Of changes to the aristocracy. Soon there may be no Thirteenth House at all.”

The noble-born lords and ladies who were not purebred enough to belong to one of the Twelve Houses were all lumped under the rather derisive name of the Thirteenth House. During the past year, some of these lesser nobles had begun to agitate for more power and prestige-including a clear title to the lands they held in trust for the marlords. Many of these vassals had come to Ghosenhall to negotiate in good faith with Baryn. Others had tried to capitalize on the general unrest in the kingdom. Indeed, last year a few rebel lords had attempted more than once to murder the regent.

“What will you do with all the lesser lords, then?” Senneth asked. “Gift them their properties outright? Would you want to see Eighteen Houses, instead of Twelve? I am no apologist for the aristocracy, but even I find it hard to say such a phrase. Eighteen Houses. Twenty-four. There is no poetry to either.”

He smiled at her a little absently. “Another kind of title altogether, perhaps,” he said. “We might have both the Twelve Houses and the Twelve Manors. That is pretty enough, don’t you think?”

“Very nice. And can you find a property in each of the twelve regions that the marlords would be willing to give up? And would the lords of these manors be satisfied with their new status, or will they want full parity with the marlords?”

“I haven’t worked it all out yet,” he admitted. “But I believe we might take small steps to change our world, and so perhaps avert a war.”

She lifted her eyes and gave him a hard, comprehensive look. “And do you truly think any measures are sufficient to do that?”

He glanced away, for a long time merely looking out the window. Another gray day, though at least there was no rain to contend with this morning. Then he sighed and shook his head, glancing back at her. His face was sad. “No,” he said. “But I must do everything in my power to try.”

TWO days later, Cammon slipped down to the cottage just in time to eat lunch with Kirra and Senneth. “Justin and Ellynor will be here tomorrow,” he told them.

“Early or late?” Kirra demanded. “Do we have the day to work, or must we finish everything today?”

“I don’t know. If I were you, I’d finish up today.”

“Better finish up by this afternoon,” Senneth reminded her. “You promised Baryn you would attend the dinner tonight.”

Kirra cursed and then laughed. “Well, we’re almost done. Let’s go over now. What have Tayse and the other Riders cooked up?”

“I believe it involves pelting them with flowers and fruit as they ride up to the cottage for the first time, and then creating a great deal of noise outside their bedroom window in the middle of their first night here.”

Kirra grinned. “Everybody loves newlyweds.”

Cammon gulped down his meal and then went off to fence with Tayse, while Kirra and Senneth returned to the house set aside for Justin. It was tiny, a mirror image of the one Senneth shared with Tayse-merely one main room that opened into a small kitchen, with a single door leading to a cramped bedroom. Little more than basic privacy and a place to sit before the fire. But Senneth and Kirra had outfitted it with a new bed and several small storage chests, as well as chairs in the main room and dishes for the kitchen. Rugs on the floor to keep out the chill, curtains at the windows to keep out the curious. They had made Cammon and Donnal haul in wood, which was stacked before the fireplace, and Kirra had filched bread and cheese from the palace kitchen.

“What are those?” Senneth said, pointing at a row of terra-cotta planters holding a wilted assortment of scrubby plants. “Those are ugly.”

“Give me a minute,” Kirra said, and skimmed her hands over the bare, prickly branches. Instantly, the withered leaves turned green; the dried and folded petals were rouged with red.

“Very pretty,” Senneth said. “One would almost think you had the gift of growing things.”

“No-they’re altered, not coaxed,” Kirra said.

Senneth glanced around. “I would start a fire in the grate, but who knows how long it will be before they arrive? But I hate to have them come in to a cold house.” She leaned her hand against the wall, and the temperature in the rooms began to rise. “Perhaps just a little magic in the stone,” she said. “I’ll add another touch of heat before we go to bed.”

Kirra edged toward the door, pausing to survey the entire scene with a look of satisfaction. Warm, colorful, cozy, the front room had a most inviting feel. “Who wouldn’t want to live in such a welcoming place?” she said. “I hope Ellynor is happy here, so far from her family.”

Senneth followed her out the door. “Funny-I’m always happiest when my family is farthest away.”

“And I when I am either setting out to see them or preparing to leave,” Kirra said.

“But then, we’re unnatural.”

“Mystics,” Kirra said darkly. “Never just like everybody else.”