Moth and Spark (20 page)

“Thank you,” he said.

“I think they mean to kill you,” she said quietly.

“I expect so,” he said. He had become used to that idea very quickly. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Tam, there’s no chance of it.”

“But if there are traitors . . .”

“No one is unaware of that possibility, including me. Whatever happens will only have a chance of succeeding if it is entirely unexpected.” He ate and drank nothing now that had not come straight from the kitchens. There were plenty of poisons besides blood-dust.

“Do you think war will come here?”

“Yes.” He would have preferred to lie, but he owed her the truth. If he did not give it to her he would lose her.

“Even with—what about Mycene?”

Oh, how was he going to get around that one? He said truthfully, “We must plan for everything. It takes a long time to move a hundred
thousand soldiers across an ocean. The Sarians are going to come through Argondy very fast.” They had horses that were both swift and strong. “And Tyrekh’s soldiers may have been sneaking in for months now. We’ve had reports of Sarian attacks.”

“You’ll have to leave, won’t you?”

It was an unwelcome question, and unavoidable. “Eventually, yes. I will stay as long as I can, but my father is going to send me off sometime. He’s made that plenty clear.” Tam, Tam, she would need to be safe, he would give her a hundred soldiers if that was what it took. “What about you?” he asked. “Do you have friends outside of your city?”

She nibbled her lip, puzzling it out. “Yes,” she said. “Why?”

“I’m going to have to send you home when the Sarians get too close, you see that, don’t you?” She had to. She would not want to. “But I don’t think they will leave Dalrinia alone. They want everything. You need to have some place to be if they decide to sack it.”

That had not really occurred to her, he could tell from the tightening of her face. She held her hand out to him and he slid down to sit beside her. When he put his arm around her, she was rigid as could be.

“Let me help you,” she said, her head down. “Let me come with you.”

“I wish I could,” he said. It hurt to even think of parting like that. “But you’re not a soldier.” He almost said she could help him by being some place where he knew she was safe, but he managed not to. It would infuriate her.

“I can endure hardship.”

“It’s not hardship, it’s fighting. You don’t know how to use a blade.”

“It’s the waiting, Corin, I can’t bear it. If I have to go back to my parents’ home and wait, and wait, and wait, I’ll go mad.”

He understood entirely. It would drive him mad too. But she was not a soldier. “That’s most of what war is, waiting.”

“I can help the doctors.”

That was a suggestion hard to resist. There would be need of every person who could assist. But it was far, far too dangerous. Her father would have told her enough that she could imagine the things the Sarians did to women if she did not already know. “There’s no way to keep you safe. I don’t even know where I am going to be, I can’t plan for you.” If he said anything else he would stumble over his words into a quagmire of warning, threatening, persuading through fear.

She scowled. He didn’t try to appease her or convince her. Finally she said, “Don’t send me away any sooner than you have to. Please.”

“I promise.” He let himself touch her smooth soft hair. “Ah, Tam,” he said, “I wish we could just find a quiet place.” He thought perhaps she had the same restlessness he did, that quick wanting for things to change, to happen. Her eyes were a pale chilly blue instead of lapis, and they were challenging him. Gently, he leaned forward and kissed her eyelids.

“I know that,” she said softly. “Do you think I don’t know that what we have right now is grace? It’s all right.”

“It’s not,” he said, “but I won’t belabor it since it’s not changeable.”

She kissed him. “Well, I would rather kiss you than spend whatever time we do have worrying.” She pursed her lips.

He put his forefinger to them. She opened her mouth slightly, ran her tongue slowly around the tip of his finger, flicking the way a snake’s would, burning his hand. He swallowed. She leaned toward him. He slipped her sleeve off her shoulder and kissed her skin. Her hand went to his thigh, right at the outer hip crease. Her eyes were closed. He tipped her back, noticing that her nipples had gone hard. If he pulled any more at her sleeve it might tear the seam; he didn’t dare do it as much as he would like to. The dress fastened in the back, that was awkward. She slid her hand slowly across his abdomen. He wanted her as he had never wanted a woman.

Then both of them heard voices and jumped up guiltily. He could not see anyone, but they were obviously coming closer. His face had to be flaming.

“Go!” she said, pushing him on the chest. “You’ll never get away if they see you.”

He kissed her hard and raced quickly off, sure to take a path that doubled back so it was not apparent where he had come from. He heard a burst of laughter. His frustrated desire turned into exhilaration at his escape. As soon as he was far enough away he slowed down to a dignified walk. By the time he entered the palace he was entirely the proper prince.

T
am kept her eyes on the pond. She was still alert with desire. The voices were coming closer. When she looked around, she didn’t see Corin, and she relaxed. It wasn’t going to be a secret long, she could tell that already. She wanted him too much to waste time sneaking and hiding. Even thinking about wanting him made her body respond. She had had no idea she could feel like this. What if she had kissed him there in the library instead of freezing like a fool? He would have returned it, pressing her back against the shelves. And then—well, nothing, really, they were both too decent for that. At least she thought they were. Her imagination was ready to run forward, but she stopped it just as she heard her name.

It was Jenet, on the arm of a handsome man who must be Count Darrin. Alina was behind them, between two young men who appeared bored. She repressed a groan. Alina had already spent too much time prying and refusing to be gotten rid of in the first half of the morning. All three of the men glanced at Tam rather cursorily, and the glances turned into stares, shaken off later than was polite. It made her wonder if Corin had left some trace on her dress or skin. She remembered about the flower in her hair and reached up to remove it, but Jenet said, “Oh don’t, it’s lovely.”

There followed a flurry of introductions (
Lady Cina’s sister-in-law, you know; What an unusual name
), disclaimers of formality, and redundant comments about the pleasantness of finally having sun again. Tam would have preferred to stay while they went on, but when one of the bored young men offered her his arm and the count said, “And now we have our sixth,” there was nothing to do but go along.

She did not have much to say to her young man, which presented no problem as he had plenty to say to her. At first she thought he was a boaster by nature, but she realized soon that he was trying to impress her. It was amusing. He was nice in his way. If he were set to hard honest work for a year or so to wear away all the veneers of wealth and leisure,
there would be a real person when he finished. She wondered if younger sons still bought commissions in the military since Tyrekh had come west.

The walk turned into a luncheon and she resigned herself to staying with the group somewhat longer. The wine was good, though nowhere near what Corin had served her, and as the others admired it greatly, she gathered it was a privilege to drink. Count Darrin was in full display. When Tam’s bored young man asked Darrin about the wine, he declared it the best the wine steward would let him have for an informal daytime meal.

“He did give me a morsel of news, though,” Darrin said tantalizingly. Tam knew immediately what was coming. Oh God, she thought, please don’t let me show anything.

Alina obliged him. “Tell us,” she said.

“He decanted some of the best for the prince last night. The Illyrian red that is usually reserved for state dinners. From a wine merchant it would be five hundred crowns a bottle.”

Tam sat back in shock. Her inability to stay calm went unnoticed as everyone else reacted with exclamations or whistles. She had drunk at least the value of a good horse last night. Five hundred crowns a bottle. Fifty marks. And he ordered the wine before he had even met her in the fountain hall. How could he have been sure she was worth such an extravagance? Not a word of it to her, it was not a brag. She wanted to go find him and ask him what it meant.

Tam’s young man said, “I’d like to see the lady. It can’t have been Seana, she’s been gloomy since he returned.”

Seana? Tam thought rapidly. The only Seana she knew of was the Duchess of Osstig. Married. Had Corin had something with her? It didn’t matter, if he had he must have ended it for her to be gloomy. But why had he not told her?

The other man said, “So that’s why Arnet had to cancel his gathering. I heard him complaining about it last night. It was very sudden. His Highness wants the Terrace Room, find yourself someplace else.” He didn’t sound very sympathetic to Arnet.

Tam worked at her food more elaborately than she needed to with her fork. The pattern on her plate was a crimson dragon at the center with its tail winding around the edge. It was a good thing she had kept her mouth shut as much as she had about last night. Thank God
she had been prepared for some remark on it. She dared not look at anyone.

“If you’re going to serve that kind of wine to a lady, you aren’t going to do it in the Terrace Room. Especially not him. It must have been something else there,” said Tam’s young man, Therry.

Jenet said, turning a little pink, “Maybe it was political.” The men all stared at her. Tam wished she could shake them.

After a pause, Darrin said with more thoughtfulness than Tam had given him credit for, “That’s possible. There’s something going on. Corin’s hardly been seen since he got back, and the king canceled a petition hearing yesterday. He never does that.”

It was an interesting opening, and she would have liked to hear more of what they thought, if they would deign to discuss it in front of women. Not that she could say anything of what she knew. War. It was still too remote and unreal for her to feel frightened, but she had seen how it weighed upon Corin. She supposed he did not show that side of himself freely.

As she was gathering her thoughts, Therry leaned over to her and whispered, impolitely and not especially quietly, “If that’s the case, Corin’s still free for Alina to chase.”

Alina heard, as she was intended to, and glared at him. Rather than striking back directly, she said with false concern, “How is your gentleman, Tam? I didn’t expect to see you in the garden alone. I do hope nothing has happened between you.”

It was an economical thrust, designed to make Therry jealous and to humiliate Tam at the same time. It surprised her to be targeted so overtly; what did Alina have against her? This was something quite different from prying. It was far too rude for Alina to get away with at the lunch table, even disguised as solicitousness.

“I beg your pardon,” Tam said politely. She removed the flower from her hair and ran her fingers up and down the smooth stem, sniffed the blossom. “I must not have heard you correctly. Would you repeat yourself, please?”

Dead silence. Darrin, who was sitting at Tam’s right, placed his hand over hers.

Alina was not up to the challenge. She wiped her mouth, put down her napkin, and stood up. “Please excuse me, I’ve just remembered something I must do,” she said stiffly, and left.

“How stupid can you get?” Therry said.

Darrin lifted his hand. “You really shouldn’t have said that about her, Therry,” he chided.

“It was worth it,” Therry said. “It got rid of her.”

Jenet said, “She’s in the same wing that Tam and I are. We can’t get rid of her.”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t made things worse for you.”

Jenet nodded an acceptance of the apology. Tam said, “Don’t concern yourself. I can handle her.” The last thing she wanted was for him to start trying to mend matters.

“I believe you can,” he said admiringly. He added, “
Do
you have a gentleman?”

“Therry!” came the chorus, followed by laughter.

Tam joined in, but she remembered Corin’s bitter comment about the court. All these games and feuds, just to get a little more power. None of it was unexpected, but it saddened her a little. As soon as she was seen with Corin, it was going to suck her in.

“I’m afraid I do, Therry,” she said. “You’re out of luck.”

“She’s keeping it completely secret, though,” Jenet added.

“In this court, who could blame her?” said Therry. “But I must admit to being disappointed. You should prepare to fend off suitors, Tam.”

“I can handle them too,” she said, to more laughter. She could not keep herself from asking the next question. “Is Alina really chasing the prince?” Her voice was calm, unremarkable.

“Yes,” said Darrin. “Or she would like to. She hasn’t had much chance. Tried last winter for two weeks and he had no idea of it. Keeps her away from the rest of us, so no one is going to try to talk her out of it. No one will ever catch him, he avoids marriage like the plague. Would you like more wine?”

Jenet asked her to walk back to their rooms together. More out of curiosity than anything else, she agreed. Darrin kissed both their hands, holding Jenet’s a touch longer. Tam wondered if he was that discreet in private. If they ever were in private. Jenet was sure to go to her marriage bed a maiden. Will I? Tam wondered. It seemed unlikely if things went on as they were. She was shocked at her own lack of shame.

Jenet said, “I’m sorry about Alina.”

“She’s not your responsibility.”

“She is in a way. She’s on her own, you know, her brothers are from her father’s first marriage and twenty years older. Her mother died ten or eleven years ago, and she’s no sisters or aunts. The only company she has is her maid.”

Tam said, without sympathy, “You are kind to help her. But if she acts so rudely to everyone, it’s no wonder she’s alone.”

“Well, she seems to have taken a particular dislike to you. I wish it weren’t so.”

“Forget about it,” Tam said. “There are more terrible things in the world than being disliked by someone with no manners.”

Jenet laughed, then said, “She’s apt to try to steal your gentleman away, I’m afraid, simply for spite. She will never succeed, but you might be particularly discreet around her.”

That could be a plain statement, or a subtle question. She was starting to fall into the game-playing already. Forthrightness was the only way around it. “Why do you think she wouldn’t succeed?”

“You would not choose someone who could be interested in her. And even if you did, you’re too beautiful for him to choose her. I’m sure that’s why she’s jealous.”

“That’s absurd,” Tam said. She knew she was handsome enough, but so was Alina. And Alina was much more inviting.

“My dear Tam, you only had to give the signal and Darrin and the other men would have been on their knees to you.”

“Bosh,” Tam said. She did not want to discuss it anymore. “Thank you for the warning.”

“When will you see him again?”

“I have no idea,” she answered honestly. She kept herself from saying he was busy, because the busyness of most young men here was attending to the ladies. “We hardly know each other. I can’t expect him to be giving me every minute of his day.”

“You spent rather a long time with him last night.”

“That was yesterday.” If it was a hint, she was not going to go further. Was there nothing else to talk about besides men? At least they had not gotten around to discussing marriage yet, though Tam thought Jenet may have felt on uncertain ground there herself.

When they reached their rooms, a page was waiting for them. It was
the boy who had been haughty the day before. He was much more deferential now. He handed her a message and said, “I’m to wait for a reply, please.”

She cracked the plain wax and unfolded the letter while Jenet stood aside. Another paper inside had something that looked like an official seal at its bottom. She tucked it into a pocket while she read the letter.
Tonight at eight. You should eat first. There will be someone to escort you from the fountain hall. Be prepared for a lot of mud. Let me know if you need anything.
He had not signed it at all, but below the paragraph was another line, more hastily written.
If the boy is rude to you again I will make him act as a copyist for a month, and he knows it.
Below that, a third line, even more of a scrawl.
If you disobey your father, however, I will never tell.

She laughed. The boy could probably not imagine a worse punishment. “Tell him I will,” she said, refolding the letter.

He nodded and bobbed a short bow.

As soon as he was gone Jenet said, “How in the world did you get that boy to be polite?”

“Hmm?”

“He’s arrogant to everyone.”

“Then perhaps he was so to someone he should not have been,” she said. “I haven’t done anything.” How easy it was to lie.

She took the other paper out of her pocket and held it carefully so Jenet could not see. It was indeed an official seal, beside a formal signature. It gave her all rights and privileges reserved to those of ducal rank. A full pass. She stared at it. He did not need to do this for her. It was a very very precious thing.

“Tam? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, clutching the pass. “Excuse me.” She hurried into her room and shut the door.

First the wine and now this. From another man it might have been meant to urge her into bed, but she was sure that was not Corin’s intent. She would not have needed any urging last night, and he knew it. No, this was a gift, pure and simple.