A Posse of Princesses (6 page)

She wandered out, her gown trailing behind
her, and Rhis resolutely closed her eyes and turned over.

oOo

Next morning, she was up and dressed fairly
early. Shera was still soundly asleep, so Rhis rang for a runner to
take her to breakfast.

“Can you explain the palace to me?” she asked
the boy in livery who came to conduct her. “So I can learn it, and
I won’t have to ring that bell all the time.”

The boy bobbed his head. “Main structure in
this shape, Your Highness.” He formed his fingers into a square.
“With smaller buildings joining the inside, like this.” Now he
formed a cross. “Those are all the grand salons.” He pointed out
each intersection as they walked, and Rhis studied them, memorizing
landmarks. After breakfast, she decided, she’d just wander around
and try to learn her way.

When they reached the bright, sunny parlor in
which breakfast was served, she thanked the runner and wandered
out. She found long tables set out on a terrace and more inside for
those who didn’t want to be in the outside air.

The morning was clear and cool on the
terrace. Rhis found a side table with trays of tempting foods to
choose from. When she’d made her selection she sat down alone at
the end of a table where she could observe the rest of the terrace
and the forested garden beyond.

Someone came and asked what she wanted to
drink; soon she had creamy hot chocolate to warm her up.

There were very few people up as yet. Several
sat alone like she did. A group of three girls arrived together,
and took a table across the terrace.

Then a slight stir went through the
breakfasting people, and Prince Lios strode out onto the terrace,
followed by a group of seven or eight, mostly boys. With them was
Dandiar. The group circled around the prince, faces expectantly
watching to see where he wanted to sit. He waved carelessly at one
table just outside the terrace doors, and when the group moved to
sit down, he tapped Dandiar on the shoulder and they walked across
the terrace to stand by the low carved marble rail.

Rhis munched a biscuit as she idly watched
them talking, the taller Lios bending his head to hear what his
scribe was saying. She reached for another biscuit—everyone else
was watching the two at the rail as well. What would it be like to
be courted by Lios? He really was devastatingly handsome, she
thought, admiring the cut of his green-and-white tunic that
flattered his athletic body. He laughed suddenly, a loud, free
laugh, then stopped, and cast a guilty look around. Had this prince
been cautioned by tutors just as Rhis and Shera had that civilized
people did not make a lot of noise while laughing? Rhis thoroughly
enjoyed the idea. It made him seem a little more human.

Meanwhile, Dandiar laughed as well, though
his was soundless; she only knew he was laughing because of his
shaking shoulders, and the deep dimples flashing in his cheeks.
Servants, Rhis knew, learned how to be soundless—something that
Elda approved of. Everybody in their proper place. Rhis had never
dared to make friends with any of the few castle girls her own
age.

Then the scribe bowed low and moved away,
flashing one last smile over his shoulder. The prince grinned back.
They were obviously good friends. So maybe ‘proper place’ wasn’t
always true any more than ‘no proper princess likes ballads.’

Dandiar disappeared inside, and Lios rejoined
his company, after smiling round the terrace at everyone—Rhis
included. She felt her face heat up, but she managed to smile back.
Was there something special in his smile to her? Did he linger just
a little longer, or was it her imagination?

She watched him as she sipped chocolate,
hoping he would turn and look again. She was so engrossed that when
someone sat down across from her she was startled, and nearly
dropped her cup.

“May I join you?” a male voice asked.

She looked up at a fellow with dark, curly
hair and bright blue eyes.

“I’m Vors Admasos,” he said. “You’re Rhis of
Nym, am I right?” When she nodded, he went on, “Shera told me about
you last night. Said you love music. So do I! There’s to be a
concert after supper tonight. Singers all the way from Charas al
Kherval, I’m told. Will you sit with me?”

“I’d be glad to,” she said, surprised and
flattered.

Vors sat down and dug into a plate piled high
with food. “Had a little sword fighting practice this morning,” he
said. “Lios and a few others. Works up an appetite.”

“Sword fighting? Did Lios win?” she asked,
and tried not to blush.

“He’s good,” Vors admitted. “Strong. Good
reach. I’ll tell you who’s really good, though, and that’s Taniva
of the High Plains.” He whistled softly. “I always heard those
plains riders were half-barbarian, and I can well believe it. She
rides like a windstorm, and she’s death with the two blades.” He
waved beyond the rail. “There she goes!” He half rose up in his
seat. “Got to see if she’s barefoot again. Hates shoes. Guess
that’s formal wear up in those mountains.” He laughed as he peered
into the garden.

A tall girl with two long dark braids was
just breaking off a crimson blossom from one of the flowering
vines. She stuck it behind her ear, then moved out of sight at a
brisk pace along the garden path. Rhis admired her brightly colored
gown, very different from the others, but it suited Taniva’s strong
figure.

“Not that I mean everyone from mountain
kingdoms is a barbarian,” Vors said in haste.

Rhis snapped round, looking at Vors in
question. Vors stared back at her in obvious consternation—yes, he
had
meant Nym!

“Well, it’s been said about us in Nym,” Rhis
said, trying to decide how she felt about that. A barbarian, she
decided, would get mad. But a polite ambassador for her kingdom
would . . . turn the insult into a joke? “But I’d never go
barefoot. Too cold.”

“That’s what I like, a girl with a sense of
humor.” Vors grinned, his face clearing. “Now. Music. Tell me what
your favorites are.”

They talked for the remainder of the
breakfast. Rhis found that he knew very little of ballads, but he
was familiar with other kinds of music.

He was nearly done with his food when a
shadow fell across the table, and Rhis discovered Dandiar the
scribe standing just behind her, a cup and saucer in one hand. “May
I join you?”

“Of course,” Rhis said, giving him a smile of
welcome.

Vors got to his feet. “Tonight,” he said to
Rhis, and without a glance at the scribe, he walked away, leaving
his unfinished food.

A servant appeared and quietly removed the
plate as Dandiar sat down. His mouth quirked deeply at the
corners.

Rhis stared after Vors, surprised at his
rudeness. Was it so terrible to sit down to a meal with a scribe?
Then she wondered if she had inadvertently disgraced Nym with her
own compliance—but she remembered sitting with him the night
before, and no one had given them odd looks. She also remembered
Lios’s behavior earlier. Though Elda might not approve,
he
obviously didn’t think it so terrible to be seen talking to his
scribe.

“I’m glad to discover that you can, in fact,
speak,” Dandiar said, smiling at her.

Rhis felt her cheeks burn. “Oh. Last night—I
think everything was overwhelming,” she said.

“Everything, or everyone? Or maybe just one?”
Dandiar retorted in a good-humored voice. “Never mind, I won’t
tease you. It’s to be expected.”

Iardith swept out onto the terrace just then,
followed by no fewer than five boys. Rhis thought privately that if
it was ‘expected’ that the girls would react to Lios the way she
had, the boys were just the same about the Perfect Princess.

Dandiar was smiling in a way that made her
suspect he’d had the very same thought.

But all he said was, “Have you any questions?
Is everything to your satisfaction?”

Rhis said, “More than satisfaction. I like
everything I see. A question—well, is there also a library
here?”

Dandiar looked a little surprised. “Nothing
easier,” he said. “If you’re finished, I can show you how to get
there from here.”

They left the table and crossed the terrace.
Dandiar pointed down the length of the building. “See the corner
room? That’s the library. It will be straight down the hall to your
left when you go out. You came from the right.”

“Down and to the left,” Rhis repeated. “I can
remember that. Thank you.”

“If you do go in there, don’t worry about the
crowd of scribes. They won’t disturb you, and your being there
won’t disturb them. Lios brought back a lot of books from his
travels, and they are busy translating and making copies in our
language.”

“Other languages,” Rhis said wonderingly.

She knew that people in Nym and Vesarja and
the other countries on their subcontinent spoke the same tongue,
though with some regional differences in pronunciation, and in
idiom. Rhis also knew that over the land-bridge of Meshrec the big
continent lay, and there people spoke several different
tongues.

“It must be frightening, a little, to hear
people speak but to not be able to comprehend them, or get them to
comprehend you,” she said.

“Oh, if you’re quick, and pay attention, you
learn,” Dandiar responded in a light, careless tone.

Rhis studied him, impressed. Despite his airy
manner, she knew that the study of other languages was not easy,
because Sidal had told her so. He was just half a head taller than
she, his eyes on a comfortable level. He had a steady, friendly
gaze above a snub nose. “You went overseas as well?” she asked.

He lifted one shoulder. “We all did.”

Of course the prince would travel with an
entourage. “What was it like?”

“Very, very different from life here,” he
said with his quick grin. “Interesting, though. Shall I walk you to
the library? I have to get to work.”

Just then Rhis caught sight of Shera, who
bustled toward them, her curls bouncing as she turned her head from
side to side as she tried to take in who was here and who wasn’t.
“I think my cousin is coming to join me,” she said. “Thank you
anyway.”

Dandiar gave her a little salute, a humorous
gesture, and left.

“Well,” Shera exclaimed, sinking down onto a
chair. “I simply have to tell you about my dances last night. But
first, any news? Did you get to talk to Lios yet?”

“No,” Rhis said, laughing. “But news—yes.”
She thought of Vors, and the horse races at which she’d surely get
to see Lios, at least, and about the library full of books. “Oh,
Shera, I think it’s going to be so much fun here. It’ll be
impossible to go home!”

The girls walked out into the garden where
they wouldn’t be overheard. When they reached a little dell shaded
by aromatic trees, Shera expertly hummed the tunes as she
demonstrated the new dances. Rhis picked up the moves quickly.
Then, encouraged by Shera, Rhis talked in tireless detail about
Lios—the way he looked, how he had smiled at her at breakfast, and
they speculated happily on what he might think and do.

They also talked a little about Vors. Shera
explained that he had introduced himself to her during the dancing,
asking a lot of questions about Rhis—about her home, her likes and
dislikes.

“I don’t know if he fell in love with you
straight off at dinner yesterday, but he seemed might-y
interested,” Shera finished briskly.

Fell in love?
Rhis stared at some
nodding blossoms. “Well, I don’t know how he could, since I didn’t
even see him, much less speak to him . . .” Then she thought about
her own reaction to Lios, and how he hadn’t noticed her. Then she
shook her head. “No, I can’t believe it. I’m not the sort people
fall instantly in love with—not with Iardith around, and that
beautiful one with the red hair and the dimples in her cheeks. I
saw her at breakfast this morning. She’s just as pretty as
Iardith.”

“That’s the one who snabbled up the duke’s
son,” Shera said. “She was pointed out to me last night. She’s
eighteen, almost nineteen, the duke’s heir the same age. Two days’
acquaintance, and he wants to marry her! But she’s not given him an
answer, I was told. Perhaps she’s got hopes of Lios as well.”

“What else did you hear?” Rhis asked.

Shera shrugged, grinning. “Oh, a whole lot of
gossip about this and that person, but I expect it all changes as
fast as you hear it, if it’s anything like our court at home, when
everyone is there. They are all so careful with proper protocol
when my mother is on the throne, but as soon as she leaves, they
start flirting as much as they can!”

“Doesn’t your father mind?” Rhis asked.

“I don’t think he ever notices. He’s too busy
talking with his old cronies, or playing crumback.”

Rhis recognized the name of a popular
card-and-marker game. Elda, like her mother the Queen of Gensam,
did not approve of games, and Rhis’s father had no interest in
them, so no one in Nym’s castle played them. Apparently the queen’s
consort, Shera’s father, was exempt from the rule—at least when the
queen wasn’t around.

Her thoughts were interrupted by
laughter.

The girls had wandered onto the grassy part
of the garden just below the terrace outside the dining area. High,
female voices laughed again, and Rhis looked up at the terrace.
Iardith was surrounded by a half-circle of laughing girls. Iardith
hunched her shoulders, an ungraceful movement that was quite
startling, and she made one hand into a claw as she gestured
wildly.

“Um! Oom! Ze ribbon she is tied on my nose!”
Iardith declared with a heavy accent. “Nose? Toes? Ooom! Boo! What
say I? Say I wrong? Boo!”

Carefully modulated waterfalls of laughter
met this, led by the beautiful redhead who had snabbled a duke
after only two days.