Page 76 of The Ragpicker King
Lin frowned. She did not like the idea of letting Aron come with her on her rounds, but to push back would only make him suspicious when she had nothing to hide. And she did need that translation.
“Is this an order?” she asked.
“More an exchange,” said Aron. “But you may consider it an order from your Exilarch, if you wish.”
There was at least a symmetry to it, Lin thought as she left the garden. A tense and complicated symmetry, but there it was: She was under orders from two different Princes.
Silla
“Silla,” Audeta whispers. “Silla, come here a moment.”
Silla approaches the other girl hesitantly. She likes Audeta, she always has, but Audeta has a boldness to her that renders her somewhat insensitive to anxiety in others. Silla has been on her guard all night, since Artal Gremont came into the Caravel with some of the other nobles. He’d been laugh-snorting like he often did—he reminds Silla of a horse that way—and slapping Joss Falconet on the back. He gave no sign of having noticed Silla, but she still didn’t wish to risk running into him; her wrist has only just healed. She’d slipped away past Alys’s office instead, where Alys sat closeted with the blond girl from the Hill.
Audeta is lounging in an open doorway, wearing a colorful silk robe and smoking a cheroot. Her hair is down around her shoulders. She winks at Silla as the other girl approaches and stands back, letting Silla have a clear view into the room where Artal Gremont is sprawled on the bed, snoring and... quite naked. He hasn’t a stitch on—not even the gaudy necklace he usually wears.
Audeta blows a smoke circle. “He’s drugged. One of Alys’s brother’s potions. Won’t be awake for hours.”
“What are you going to do to him?” Silla whispers. She knows she can’t wake Artal up, but she can’t help herself.
“We won’t lay a finger on him, scaredy-cat.” Audeta grins. “But Alys said he’ll learn what we’ve done the hard way soon enough.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early the next evening, Kel dressed as Kel Anjuman to escort Anjelica to her meeting.
He was still reluctant to go—reluctant enough that he cursed under his breath as he dressed in soft leather boots, a mossy silk tunic, and a gray-green linen jacket with a wide, lined hood. But Anjelica would go whether he accompanied her or not, and the results could be disastrous if she went alone. They could probably be disastrous either way, he thought, and slid a dagger into the top of his boot. Then added another one, up his sleeve, just in case.
Upon leaving the Castel Mitat, he found Lilibet in the courtyard garden, pacing back and forth. She looked up eagerly when she saw him, only for disappointment to flash immediately across her face. It was a phenomenon Kel had observed countless times: At a glance, Lilibet would mistake him for her son; at closer hand, she would realize who he was, and her face would fall.
She, too, wore green, just as he did. The color of Marakand. Today her dress was velvet, the color of emeralds, and a choker of emeralds circled her throat. She said abruptly, “Where is Conor?”
“With Mayesh,” Kel said. He hoped she could not see the shapeof the dagger under his fitted sleeve. The last thing he wanted was for her to be too curious about where he was going. “Going over the Solstice Ball invitations. I believe there is an issue of careful wording.”
Lilibet’s painted eyebrows rose. “They didn’t tell me— Well. Never mind.” Her dark gaze sharpened. “I had a mind to ask you. What do you think of the Princess?”
“Of Anjelica?” Kel was taken aback. “It is not my place to have an opinion, my lady.”
Lilibet sniffed. “And yet you have spent more time with her than my son has, I’d warrant. He sent you to take his place at her banquet. Why? Does he find her too stubborn?” She kicked irritably at a border of roses, drooping in the heat. “I question how fine a Queen she can ever be. A Queen must be able to compromise, and the girl refuses to come to terms on anything.”
“She spoke of you only in glowing terms, my lady,” Kel lied.
“Then her words do not match her actions. We have only just had a disagreement on the topic of her elephant. I asked when it would be returning to Kutani. Elephants are very expensive to keep, you know.”
Kel made a noncommittal noise.
“She said the elephant would not be returning, but would remain here indefinitely. That Marivent was now its home. When I objected, she told me in no uncertain terms that any decision about the creature would be up to Conor, not to me, and that Conor approved of the elephant.”
“That’s true,” Kel said. “He does approve of the elephant. He may be more excited about the elephant than he is about the Princess.”
Lilibet made an exasperated noise. If Kel had not been anxious to get away, he would have found the whole business funny. It was rare that anyone got under Lilibet’s skin like this. “Is my son bothered that his bride is so excessively pigheaded?”
“I believe Conor considers this union to be for the good of Castellane,” said Kel gravely, “which is, of course, his overwhelming concern.”
“Of course,” Lilibet said, but there was a note of sarcasm in her tone. “I understand my son is determined to marry for the good of Castellane, as I myself was determined to make an advantageous marriage for my country. Such dreams I had then.” She glanced over at the North Tower, her eyes narrowed. “But dreams are flimsy things. One cannot build on them.” She turned back to Kel. “You said Conor was with Mayesh? Where are they meeting?”
“In the Armory. The Solstice Ball is only a short time away—”
But Lilibet was already flouncing off, her skirts swirling determinedly. Kel shook his head and turned his steps toward the West Gate.
