Moth and Spark (28 page)

“There’s nothing we can do, Tam, they may as well have their last pleasure. It will be different after the Sarians cross the border.” He kissed her. Then he added, somewhat grimly, “And you’re right. Once they start asking questions, nothing will get done. I need them to be distracted a while longer.”

There it was, the hard side of him. She was going to have to get used to it.

“How much time is there?”

“Two or three weeks if the Sarians come by foot. Much less if they ride. We aren’t going to keep people here, but I don’t want them to panic. They can start leaving tomorrow, peacefully. Except for the ones who would go east.”

“What about me?”

“I won’t send you away sooner than I have to. But when it’s time, you need to go.” He touched her cheek. “Tam, things are going to change for you after tonight. Especially with a declared war. Are you sure you want me to come with you?”

“Things already have changed,” she said. “What difference does the war make?”

“It’s going to drag you in. A thousand people are going to want to know if you know my secrets. Some will be curious, some will be spies. If I am with you during a war, they will know you are not a passing fancy. They may even try to get through you to my father. It could be horrible. I don’t want you to endure that needlessly.”

The apprehension in her belly told her it could easily lead to a quarrel if she answered thoughtlessly now. “Is it better for you if we keep things as they are?”

“It doesn’t weigh to one side or the other for me,” he said. “My duties won’t change. But I don’t want you to be between me and all the arrows coming. There will be a lot.”

“I can manage,” she said. Alina’s jealousy seemed petty and far away now. But with a pang she realized how little time they had actually had together. “You’ve been in a rush all day, Corin, is it going to be better tomorrow?”

“Unlikely. Why?”

“You’ve told me what’s happened, but we haven’t really talked about it. Or how it plays out. I can take the questions and the gossip and the prying, but I might make a disastrous mistake if I don’t know more. I don’t know whom to trust or not. You can’t just keep warning me away from people.”

“I’ll find you the time for that somehow. You deserve it. You need it.” He kissed her lightly. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ll come get you a little before time.”

Time can trap you, she thought, wind around things as transparent as glass and strong as steel and before you know it you’re caught. Nothing moves. It mattered terribly but was unchangeable.

She watched him walk away with a straight back and rapid pace. She suspected he was already thinking of something else. She wanted to run after him, to warn him of danger, but he knew as much as she did. She could do nothing but stay wary herself.

T
am had eaten a light dinner when the maid arrived, with a quick curtsy and a statement that “Her Majesty would like me to help you with anything you need, my lady.” Tam’s experiences with someone dressing her in the past had been with foolish-seeming girls who chattered and gossiped endlessly, asking questions and never waiting for an answer, while they pulled strings and curled hair with efficient graceless force. This woman was young but otherwise entirely different; her voice was more educated, and her attention was absolute. She had brought scented soaps for Tam to use in bathing, stones to scrub off rough skin on her feet and hands, and handsome and strong hairpins. She adjusted stays and laces with such skill that Tam, who had worn the gown before, was stunned to see how differently she wore it now. The neckline was trimmed with a stiff and heavy brocaded silk that had chafed her skin in the past; the maid’s adjustments revealed that it was meant to stand up instead of lying flat, moving subtly with her breath to suggest fullness across the breasts. When the maid had finished with Tam’s hair there might have been two score pins in it, but Tam could not feel any of them, and her hair looked glossy and alive. Troublesome strands that could not be pinned up were curled to the perfect balance between girlishness and enticement. The maid reddened Tam’s lips and rouged her cheeks (
Just a little, m’lady, you do have nice color already
), lined her eyes at the outer corners, and added a little powder to the lids that was invisible when on but which changed the shape of her eyes to something more almond. When the maid held up the looking-glass, Tam saw a stranger, beautifully soft with a suggestion of alluring knowledge.

“He’s not going to recognize me,” she said, feeling both slightly foolish and delighted.

“He’s not going to be able to keep his eyes off you,” said the maid. “Nor will the other gentlemen, if I may say so.”

“You’re a magician.”

“There’s other girls I could work on for hours who I could never get to look like this,” she said wryly. “And they couldn’t wear a dress that simple at all.”

Tam liked the gown and was glad that it was good enough. It was a shimmering sapphire-blue silk woven with contrasting threads to make it look gold when the light struck it a certain way. There were no crystals or lace trim. It had off-the-shoulder sleeves, a bodice and waist embroidered in thread of the same color, and a sweeping skirt cut at an angle to the weave, making the shifting colors of the silk a contrast to the darker-seeming bodice. The hems were all edged with seed pearls. It was light and comfortable, for a gown.

She made sure her shoes were not too slick-soled or high-heeled for dancing, then thanked the maid and settled down to wait. It was close to time, but she was afraid to move much, lest something wrinkle or fall irreparably. For a while the hallway outside was loud with the voices of other women moving about, laughing. Briefly she considered joining them, but she thought she would be too easily rattled if she saw Alina. Jenet and the impending proposal could have the stage.

Fortunately for her nerves, she did not wait long before a boy appeared and told her Corin was ready. She followed him out of the wing, passing several waiting gentlemen, who stared, to a small side chamber not far away.

“My God. Look at you.” He came forward and kissed her, quite lightly, obviously wanting to avoid smearing the lip color. “I have something for you. And it’s a loan, not a gift, so don’t get all prideful and refuse to wear it.”

It was a diamond necklace, each stone as clear and colorless and sparkling as a diamond could be. She stood still while he clasped it around her neck.

“I’m really allowed to wear this?” she asked. “It’s not a royal heirloom reserved for state occasions?”

“It’s not,” he said. “It was a gift to my sister Mari from a suitor she later rejected. He refused to take it back. My sisters and mother pass it back and forth between them. Mother suggested you wear it.”

“I take it I passed highly,” she said. “Are you ready? I thought you would be longer coming.”

“I’m going to shock everyone by being early,” he said. “Unless you
want to vanish with me into an empty room and keep me there long enough to preserve my reputation? They can’t start without me.” His forefinger slipped under the edge of her gown.

She pulled it out. “You have to wait, my lord,” she said primly. “Who are you going to open with?”

He took her arm as they left the room. “Should I leave you guessing? You still have time to place a few bets. Not you, don’t worry. You should dance with whomever you wish.”

“Tell me. Then I won’t hate her at once.”

“I thought you didn’t want to open.”

“I don’t. That doesn’t mean I want someone else to. It’s all right, Corin, I’m not really going to hate anyone.” She squeezed his arm.

“Well, in this case I most certainly don’t want you to. It couldn’t be better,” he said. “Mari arrived late this afternoon. I’ll dance with her, and no woman can feel that I’ve passed her over for some more beautiful potential bride.”

“But wasn’t she—isn’t she—her husband—”

He understood. “She told me it was better than sitting alone and thinking. He’s not far behind her.”

“You’re sure?” She did not think she could dance with anyone, even her brother, if she were in that situation, wondering where her husband was, when he would come, if he was safe.

“It was her idea.”

She felt more grateful than she should have at the thought that no one would wonder if he meant anything by his choice. It sent a signal that he did not want to honor any woman there, but it could not offend them or provoke them to come second place to his sister. “You should do that for every ball,” she said. “Keep yourself away from the battlefield.”

“You do have little faith in your own fair sex. Where did you acquire this belief that all women are armed to the tooth against each other?”

“They aren’t, all the time. But when the stakes are high enough they are, and how could the stakes be higher than here? Don’t tell me you don’t know that.”

“I’ve taken myself out of the game,” he said, a bit fiercely. “There’s only you.”

Oh, love, she thought, the game goes on, I can’t drop out that easily and neither can you. “Who is Seana?” It slipped out, a childish
question, one that should have turned to ash with what he had just said. She was ashamed of herself.

“A mistake,” he said.

“Why?”

“For several reasons. She came to me the night I returned from the north, and I sent her away. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” she said, though it was not entirely true. He was done with the woman, it was obvious, but she envied the past. “Why didn’t you tell me?” To her relief, her tone was only mildly curious.

“I suppose I assumed you knew. Most everyone does. They probably know I sent her away, too. It’s nothing you should concern yourself with, she isn’t the type to be vengeful. If she’s there tonight she’ll be civilized. I’m not proud of it, but there’s no reason it needs to dog either of us. It’s over.” He pressed her hand.

Tam glanced around. They were alone. She stopped him long enough to kiss him. Then she had to find a handkerchief to wipe the color off his lips, and he had to dab at the skin around her mouth. The suggestion of an empty room was tempting, but she was afraid that if she said it neither of them would stop the other, which really should not happen. She realized, surprised, that she was happy.

When they came to a flight of steps beside a balcony, he paused. Below, many men and women, colorful and elegant, were walking across a wide hall. She could have spent time just watching from above. Somewhere close musicians were tuning their instruments. “The entrance to the ballroom is through there,” he said, gesturing downward.

She took a step forward, stopped. “I don’t even know what I am to call you.”

“You’ve already made ‘Highness’ into a parody,” he said drily. “What’s left? ‘Your Gracelessness’?”

She blushed.

“Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It would matter if it were politics or diplomacy or a High Court. It’s not, it’s a ball.” He made an amused sort of noise. “You should be able to entertain yourself highly while they try to figure out what to call you. Do be nice about it, though, will you?”

“I’ll try,” she said. “This sort of thing always makes me devilish, I don’t know why.”

“Because you get bored with people less clever than yourself, which is most everybody,” he said. “I will do my best not to abandon you to them too much. The first dance, clearly, and I will certainly be ambushed several times by politickers. But that should be it.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you had nothing but pleasure to think of.”

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s an irremediable character defect. Come, let’s go in.”

The ballroom was splendidly lit, very crowded, and insufferably hot. Tam had a moment of unreasoning panic, fear that she might get lost or sucked away. She gripped Corin’s hand and felt her palm sweating. It was hard to breathe. She understood Talia’s advice about drinking plenty of water. The sound of voices was a loud roar. She tried to ignore the people looking at them and hoped there was no one she knew.

“Here,” he said, almost pushing her into a cushioned chair against the wall. “Sit. It should be better soon, it always crowds up by the entrance at the beginning. When music starts people thin out. I have to go find Mari, will you be all right here? Do you want to come with me? Should I find you a partner?”

“I’ll stay here,” she said, with a forced smile. “Until you come. I’ll be fine, it was just so hot there.” He squeezed her hand, then disappeared into the press of dark-clothed men and wide-skirted ladies. It was only a ball, she had been to balls before.

It could not have been more than a minute before a young and fairly good-looking man appeared beside her. “Are you unaccompanied, my lady? Might I have the honor of the first dance?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, and felt the impishness begin to rise. “I am already engaged, my partner has just had to step away.”

“A later one then?”

“Perhaps. If you might ask me then?”

“Of course, of course.” He kissed her hand, bowed, and walked away.

One.

The next man was average-looking, blond, about forty, not fat yet but headed inexorably there. He wore a heavy ring on his right hand that suggested considerable wealth. He bowed before speaking and said, “I would be most delighted if I might have the honor of your company as the ball begins, my lady.” He sounded powerful; his voice had the inflections of high rank.

“I regretfully must decline, my lord,” she said, “as I have already been engaged for the first three dances.”

“I will take the fourth,” he said, in the tone of one who is used to receiving what he demands. She had never heard Corin use that voice, not even to servants. It riled her.

“I’m afraid that will not be possible, your lordship,” she said. She shouldn’t, she shouldn’t. But the words would not stay back. “I’ve just decided to give it to the first gentleman who asks me courteously.”

His face darkened, and he turned stiffly away. Several men standing nearby laughed.

Two.

It was another minute or so before the third one appeared. He was so young and awkward that she felt sorry for him, and refused as gently as she could.

The fourth man was Therry, who was clearly expecting to be turned down but said it never hurt to ask. She spoke briefly with him, then sent him on his way. He joined Darrin and Jenet farther down the hall. Jenet gave Tam a rueful smile, shrugging her shoulders. It could not have been clearer that she had told him not to bother. Tam wondered if Jenet had already seen her with Corin. Likely not.

The fifth one was more clever, which was all that saved him from a snapped reply; she wanted to be left alone by now. She should have gone with Corin, he could have found an innocuous partner for her. If only the music would start.

This man was handsome and obviously of high rank, but his tone was friendly and not arrogant as he said, “May I inquire as to your intentions for the sixth dance, my lady?”

“The
sixth
?”

“You have been turning away all who asked for your company, my lady. Including His Grace the Duke of Dele, who has probably not been rejected for years. I therefore assume that I would also be rejected for the first few dances, for whatever the reason. But you might not yet be engaged for the sixth one.”

“Well . . .” she said, even as she was thinking in a panic that she had insulted the Duke of Dele, which could cause trouble for Corin. On the other hand, this man seemed to approve of it. And other men had laughed, perhaps the duke had no real power here. She knew from her brother that he had no real power in Dele either.

Carefully, she said, “I do not have the honor of knowing your lordship by face. May I in turn inquire as to whom I would be dancing with?”

“Or rejecting? Mattan of Harin.”

Another duke. But considerably more polite. She said, “Sir, the truth is that I am engaged for the entire evening. But I will happily give you a dance in spite of this if you will help me fend off any other askers.”