Shadowborn (Light & Shadow, Book 1) (14 page)

“
My Lady, forgive me.”
Temar’s voice was soft, but unyielding. “His Grace requested
Catwin’s presence as well.”

Miriel bit her lip against
a retort and swept past me, her gown brushing against me so that I
must step back. I met Temar’s eyes and he only gave a distant
half-smile. His words echoed in my ears:
It is your duty to be at her side, whether she wishes it or
not
.

We walked in stony silence, Miriel
pretending that I was not there, Temar acting the part of a
respectful servant. I concentrated on memorizing the corridors.
They were low and dark in this part of the building, the rooms set
back from the hallway proper; I thought it would be a good place to
hide.

The Duke had good rooms, on the side of the
building closest to the Palace proper. His was one of the oldest
titles, but he was common-born; he was not given leave to live in
the same building as the king himself. Still, he was well-guarded
and well-housed. The guards uncrossed their pikes and swung open
the doors at the sight of Temar and Miriel, and the three of us
were ushered into rooms larger and airier even than Miriel’s. A
fire roared in the grate, fine carpets were piled on the floors,
and the curtains were rich brocade.

We continued through the outer chamber, and
the Duke looked up as we entered his study. It was a cheerless
room; the Duke hated luxury. He kept up appearances in his
receiving rooms, but in his private world, there were no rich
carpets and no ornaments. He was economical even in his words, was
the Duke: he wasted no time on greetings, not even for Miriel.

“
Temar says he told you why
you are here,” he said to me. “I will explain again, so that there
can be no mistake. Pay attention, girl.”

“
Yes, my Lord.”

“
You, Catwin, no longer
exist. You no longer have a fate of your own, a will of your own,
or indeed a soul of your own. Henceforth, you and Miriel are to be
as one: she the light, and you the dark. You are to cease thinking
of yourself as other from my niece—you are to be her shadow, as
Temar is mine. You will go where she goes, you will watch instead
of being watched, you will hear instead of being heard. Do you
understand me?”

“
Yes, my Lord.” I did not.
I did not understand in the slightest. I did not like the
uncharacteristic, lyrical tilt to the Duke’s words. I did not like
that, over on the side of the room, Temar had gone so still that he
might have been carved from stone.

“
Swear it,” the Duke said.
There was no refusing.

“
I swear.” My voice was
barely audible, but he nodded.

“
You will both take
instruction from me as to how to behave, what to say and what not
to say, and how to remain safe. There is no safety for those alone
in court, but you will be under my protection.

“
You, Catwin, are to take
lessons with Roine, Temar, and one of the guardsmen. Temar will
tell you where to go.” He said no more, not that he expected me to
do well, not that he would be displeased by failure. Either it did
not occur to him that I would do poorly, or he considered me
frightened enough to do his bidding without further
instruction.

He turned his face to Miriel. “Your
governess will continue your lessons as usual. You will also study
with other tutors. They will teach you how to dance, how to play
instruments, how to sing, and most importantly, they will teach you
how to behave at court.”

He stood and came around the desk, and I
admired Miriel for not flinching as her uncle looked her over. He
looked at her as an engineer might measure the strength of a
bridge. He did not look at her as if he would see into her soul, he
cared only that she might fail him. Miriel looked back at him so
blankly that I wondered for a moment if she might be slow in wits,
if I simply had not realized it until now.

I would realize only later that Miriel’s
beautiful face could be as formless as water when she wanted it to
be. She gave the Duke nothing upon which to comment. Miriel was
learning to play his game; she said nothing, and waited.

“
You are to dress with
care,” he said at length. “Your dresses are to be of the finest
cloth, in colors and cuts that suit you. If you must create a new
style in order to be flattered, do so; but wear nothing scandalous.
Your dresses should be simple in cut, and your jewelry should be
sparing, but you are to be elegant.
That
—“ he pointed to Miriel’s
beautiful gown “—is of an old fashion, and you will dispose of it.
You are to dress as a princess, not a merchant’s
daughter.”

I thought, irrelevantly, of the piles of
gowns in Miriel’s rooms now, of the gold that had been spent on the
rich fabrics, the exquisite workmanship. All of it would be tossed
away without a thought.

Miriel had been looking at the floor. Now,
the Duke paused until she looked up at him. Then he continued,
staring into her eyes.

“
You will behave in a
charming manner. I expect you to be the finest of the ladies in the
court in everything that you do. You will be the most elegant
dancer, you will learn to sing and compose music, carry a harmony,
and play cards. If you require instruction in anything, no matter
how small, you will tell me of it and I will make sure that you
have the training you need. You are to be perfect.

“
You are to learn, most
importantly of all, how to enchant a man. You will learn when to
talk and when to be silent. You will learn when to compete with
men, and when to let them win. You will learn to lose without
seeming to do so a-purpose. You will learn how to hold yourself to
stir a man’s desire without ever appearing to flirt.”

I stared at the Duke, frankly shocked by his
cold discussion of the topic. Miriel might be of age to be
betrothed, but she was only fourteen years old, like me. She was
not a lady of the court, to be lacing herself tightly into a gown
or flirting with a fan, she was a child. She should not be learning
to enchant men.

The Duke appeared to have no such
reservations. His voice was impassive, wintry. “You are to learn to
arouse a man with nothing more than a smile, but I expect you to be
as chaste as a temple virgin, Miriel. Whatever your mother may have
told you about how to attract a man, you are to forget it at once,
and you are never to use what she taught you. There will be no
bawdy language or overt suggestion, no provocative gowns, no
knowing glances. You are not, in short, to use a whore’s tricks.
You will be untouchable, and I expect you to behave with such
propriety that there is never the chance for a rumor about your
honor.

“
If ever I hear that you
have done something shameful, you will be beaten to within an inch
of your life,
after
which you will be given a chance to explain why such a rumor
was given fodder to spread. If the answer is to my liking, you will
be taken from court or not as I see fit, so as to give no grist to
the gossips, and brought back when the time is right. If the answer
is not to my liking, I will banish you back to the mountains, or a
nunnery, or kill you. As I see fit.

“
Do you understand
me?”

I wondered again at the
fact that the Duke never asked me such things. Was it because he
could not fathom that I might fail him, or was he attempting to use
etiquette to impress his point upon his niece? I wondered, also,
why he had waited until she was here to tell her this. It would
have been simpler to teach her this before she arrived. Then I
remembered her mother’s protests, and realized that the Duke had
not trusted his sister to train Miriel properly.
Whatever your mother may have told you…
Interesting. Interesting, indeed. I wondered if I
could ask Temar about it.

Miriel was undaunted by his cold words. She
stood with such an easy bearing that they might have been
discussing the weather. She did not seem the slightest bit
frightened. “I understand,” she said, easily.

Too easily. The unspoken hung in the air,
both of them daring the other to say it.

“
And?” the Duke prompted.
From the look in his eye, I thought that Miriel would pay for
making him speak first. Miriel knew it, too.

“
I will,” she said
sulkily.

The Duke settled into his chair and picked
up a quill, dipped it in ink and wiped it, began to write.

“
You can go,” he said
carelessly.

She looked over at me for the first time
since we had left her rooms, just looked, and I had a sense of
seeing down through shifting layers. I had seen her masks, the part
she played with her mother, the quiet mask she had worn on her
journey, the gay, sparkling mask she had worn just moments before.
Now I saw a part of Miriel that was truly her own. Miriel had
learned her mother’s mannerisms, she had learned to react and be as
changeable as water, as malleable as a winter sky. But today I saw
down to the core of her, stripped bare by the Duke’s win.

Miriel hated to lose.

Chapter 12

“
Up,” Temar said
mercilessly, and I tried to push myself to my feet. I could not
draw in a breath, and everything ached. I was reminded of the time,
once, when I was small, that I had tried to climb onto the high
shelves in the kitchen to get at the honeyed dates. I had lost my
footing and fallen flat on my back, and had lain for a time on the
floor, gasping and trying to pull air into my lungs. I thought
bitterly, now, that no one had expected me to get up and try that
fall again.

When Temar had told me that I was going to
learn to fall correctly, I had laughed. I was regretting that now.
It turned out, to my immense surprise, that there was indeed a
correct way to fall. I did not know it, and I did not seem to be
getting any better at it as the morning wore on. We had tried this
same fall 57 times—I was learning to count, and Temar was using
this for practice. He found the whole thing much more amusing than
I did.

“
You know,” he said, from
where he was lounging against the wall, “it hurts less if you do it
correctly.” I gave him a look, and he grinned. “Cheer up, little
shadow, that’s all for today. Time for your lessons with
Donnett.”

“
The guardsman?” I asked,
recalling the Duke’s words. Temar nodded, pleased that I had
remembered.

“
You should learn about
him,” he said. “I expect you to know, within the week, everything
about the man. Whether he’s married, if he has children, if he has
brothers or sisters. Any loyalties he holds, any of his particular
friends. I want you to learn his mannerisms. Use his speech to
figure out where he’s from, and learn to mimic the accent. You
never know when an accent will be useful.”

It was a dizzying amount of information. I
frowned. “Why?”

“
You should know that much
and more about everyone in your life,” was the reply. “You will
learn the same about Miriel’s ladies: if they have a fancy to any
man, a rivalry with any woman. You will learn what foods they like.
You must know everything, and this is practice.”

I nodded, retying my braid with shaking
hands. I was exhausted. Every moment, it seemed, there was
something new. I had seen more, since coming to the palace, than I
had ever dreamed existed. I felt every bit the provincial nobody.
It was a wonder, really, that Miriel was not as overwhelmed as I
was.

My hands paused on my hair. I thought back
on the past day, on her never-ending smiles, her boundless energy,
the proud set of her shoulders. She was pretty and charming without
stopping, always ready with one of her beautiful false smiles—or,
if she was talking to me, a sharp and witty comment. She was light
on her feet, always ready with one of her perfect ripples of
laughter; every day, watching the courtiers for inspiration, she
got better at mimicking mirth. It was a wonder she was not dead on
her feet with exhaustion, crippled with anxiety; she, who was in
the forefront. At least no one paid attention to me.

No, there must be more to this. I resolved
to watch Miriel tonight. She must be tired, she must be scared. I
was driven to know where the cracks lay in that beautiful façade.
When I looked up, Temar was watching me. I gave him a smile as
bland as the one he showed to nobles, and rotated my right arm
gingerly in its socket.

“
I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s
go.”

As we walked together through the bustle, I
asked him, “What happens if I never learn to fall?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much.”

“
What?” I was incredulous.
“Nothing?”

“
Nothing
much
,” he
repeated.

“
You’re joking with me,” I
said, uneasily.

“
Oh, no, I’m quite serious.
You’ll get in a fight, and you’ll go down wrong.”

“
And then?” I did not quite
like the gleam in his eyes.

“
Well, you’ll be injured.
That’s difficult to come back from.”

“
Well, what if I don’t come
back from it, then?”

He looked at me as if he did not care at
all. “You’ll probably die.”

I shut up.

Donnett was housed in the barracks. When,
after only one or two wrong turns, I had managed to navigate the
two of us to the building itself, Temar took the lead and guided me
through the hallways, down a flight of stairs, and to a storage
room in the cellar.