Unquiet Land

  Ah. Leah could guess Darien’s strategy now. He didn’t want to anger the Karkans—or their Soechin allies—by refusing outright to pledge support, so he was blaming his reluctance on the primes and his other advisors. “Unfortunately, that is the way the Welchin court operates,” she said regretfully.

  The prince settled back in his chair, sipped from his goblet again, and set it carefully on the table. Leah thought she could discern a faint raspberry residue along the rim. “I understand that this was not the case when the old king was still on the throne,” he said. “I understand that Vernon would act swiftly and with no debate.”

  Who did you hear that from? she wanted to ask. It wasn’t true, of course; for the last several years of his life, Vernon had relied heavily on Darien Serlast’s counsel. And even before that, he had had to factor in the opinions of the primes before he made any sweeping decisions. In fact, Vernon had been far less autocratic than Darien, though Leah wasn’t going to say so. “Yes, things were different when Vernon was king,” she offered instead. “But perhaps things will be different again once Darien is officially crowned.”

  “You mean when he usurps the throne.”

  What? “Sire?” she said faintly.

  The prince made a broad gesture. “Vernon’s daughter still lives! A direct descendant! Yet Darien Serlast, who is no relation at all to the king, will be the next to wear the crown. To the Karkan mind, this is unfathomable.”

  She had no idea how to answer this, so to buy time, she asked a question instead. “Does the Karkan throne always pass from parent to child, then?”

  “Always. Since the beginning of time. It is an unbroken dynasty.”

  “Then I must suppose you are the son of the current king.”

  “I am. My father has ruled for thirty years and two quintiles.”

  “That’s impressive,” Leah said. “Are you his only heir?”

  “I have two sisters and a brother still living.”

  The phrasing was so odd she found herself echoing him. “‘Still living’?”

  He nodded. “One brother and one sister who died.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Here was another line of inquiry she didn’t want to pursue. Some of the other nations of the southern seas were famous for the bloody intrigue that accompanied any change in the monarchy; she didn’t want to ask how exactly his siblings had passed away. “Do you have children of your own?”

  “Three, all of them quite promising,” he said. There might have been a note of pride in his voice; it was hard to tell. “One of them will take the crown after me.”

  “Many years from now, of course,” she said lightly.

  He smiled in response. “So I should hope.”

  “You are fortunate,” she said. “In Welchin history, there have been several instances of the throne passing to another family when there were no living heirs.”

  “Perhaps that is unavoidable under certain tragic circumstances. And yet, in this case, there is an heir. She is young, but she is of the royal lineage.”

  “She is damaged,” Leah said gravely. “Her head cannot bear the weight of the crown.”

  The prince leaned closer again. Now Leah was able to trace the network of veins in his nose, see the intensity in his narrowed brown eyes. And she could catch a whiff of whatever he’d been drinking, though she couldn’t identify it. Something salty and warm, with an undercurrent of rot. She tried not to inhale too deeply. “So you have been told,” he said. “By the upstart regent. Can you prove it? Do you know it for certain?”

  She stared at him. Well, now that he asked—no. Leah had never met Odelia, she of the fragile mind, the strange and insular way of looking at the world. How could she be certain that the child had the condition that was ascribed to her? How could she know Odelia was unfit to rule?

  She would have staked her life on Darien’s integrity, but she didn’t have to. Taro—Zoe—Nelson—all the primes had come together in agreement. Odelia would be put aside and Darien raised to power in her place. At some point in the history of Welce there might have been primes who could not be trusted, but Leah didn’t believe a single one of those perfidious creatures was alive right now.

  “I am convinced it is true, sire,” she said quietly. “It is not just Darien, but all of his ministers, who think the throne is better off in other hands.”

  “Or that is what they say,” the prince responded. “Perhaps they merely wish to turn attention away from the girl until she attains maturity. Perhaps they have some reason to fear for her safety, and they believe this fiction will keep her out of danger until she is old enough to rule.”

  “That never occurred to me!” Leah exclaimed. “It would be a very clever ruse.”

  The prince pushed himself back in his chair, but she fancied she could see his look of dissatisfaction intensify. “And yet I am left with a pretend regent and a squabbling band of advisors who will not give me definitive answers,” he said.

  “Perhaps they will,” she said. “If you give them enough time.”

  He held up a bejeweled finger, as if he had had a sudden idea. “But I am led to believe that if the situation was dire enough—if he had cause enough—even this charlatan regent would make a drastic response,” he said. “And he would not wait to survey his ministers before he took action.”

  That was certainly an ominous thing to say. How to respond in a way that satisfied but did not encourage this perverse prince? “I do believe Darien is more decisive than you might think at first,” Leah replied. “Can he be driven to extreme action? I suppose so. Who couldn’t be? Would it be the action you hoped for? In my experience, Darien rarely does what you think he will. It’s one of the most frustrating things about him.”

  She thought the prince might be smiling again. “I don’t always do what people expect, either,” he said.

  She bowed her head. “Sire, even this brief conversation with you makes that very clear.”

  He laughed, pleased at her answer. “But we have talked far too long about me and my impressions of your royal court! Tell me something about yourself. I have met only a few ordinary Welchins, and I would be greatly interested to hear more of your story.”

  So she rattled off a quick and highly edited biography, focusing largely on her new life as a shop owner. “I have developed connections that enable me to procure almost any item I desire,” she said at the end, reaching into a pocket of her tunic to pull out the leather pouch. “And when Seka Mardis mentioned that you had a fondness for a certain item, I was happy to think I might supply it to you this evening. I wasn’t sure I would get a chance to talk to you, but Seka thought you would enjoy our conversation. And my gift.”

  He took the packet with pleasure, opened it, and sniffed at the contents with a connoisseur’s rapture. “Superb,” he murmured. “Nothing could please me more.” He gazed at her with a calculating expression. “I wonder if there is something I might offer you in return.”

  “Oh, I have been paid in advance by the marvelous entertainment of the evening! There’s nothing else I require.”

  “What one requires and what one desires are often not the same thing,” he replied with a lingering smile. “I am sure that somewhere in this house is something that would provide you with a great deal of pleasure.”

  Yet again, she struggled to frame a reply. The best she could come up with was, “A most generous offer! But I am meeting a Dhonshon buyer at dawn tomorrow morning, and I’ve already stayed later than I planned. I don’t have time to sample any of the other delights you might have available tonight.”

  The prince expressed his regret, they exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then finally the conversation was over. A few minutes later, Seka was leading her through the curtained hallways toward what Leah devoutly hoped was the exit. She was confused by the layout of the house, so Seka might be escorting her to a chamber of horr
ors instead.

  But they arrived without incident at the front entrance, where Leah was relieved to see Yori already waiting. Seka opened the door for them herself. “That went very well, I think,” she said ebulliently. “And you took just the right tone when you handed him the veneben. I think you are my favorite person in all of Welce!”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You’re my favorite Karkan,” Leah replied with a laugh.

  “Soulmates!”

  “It does seem that way,” Leah agreed.

  She wasn’t prepared for Seka throwing her arms around her and kissing her full on the mouth. She managed not to jerk away from the embrace and to wipe the shock from her face before Seka pulled back and gave her a mischievous grin.

  “I know, I know, your affections are otherwise engaged, and you Welchins seem to set some store by fidelity,” Seka rattled off, her gaze darting to Yori’s face and back to Leah’s. “But it was a lovely evening. I’m so glad you came!”

  “So am I,” Leah said, setting off down the walk at a determined pace and waving a cheery goodbye. “Thank you for inviting me!”

  They were in the car and pulling into traffic before Yori allowed herself to start laughing. Leah punched her lightly on the arm.

  “I don’t mind being kissed by a woman, but I don’t want to be kissed by Seka Mardis,” Leah said.

  “Would a kiss from the prince have been better?” Yori asked between chuckles.

  “Worse! I don’t know what he was drinking, but it had a strange smell and I wouldn’t have wanted to get any of it on me.”

  Yori gave her a quick glance. “What did it look like?”

  “Red and kind of sticky.”

  Yori nodded. “Might have been blood. I saw a pitcher of it on the buffet. Cow’s blood or pig’s blood. Something like that.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “No more than eating meat, when you think about it.”

  “Then I’m not going to think about it.”

  Yori just shrugged in reply. Leah studied her a moment by the faint gaslight filtering in through the windows as she drove. “So, what were you doing while I was having a polite conversation with the prince?”

  Now Yori was grinning. “Took a tour of the upstairs rooms.”

  “Bringing a new friend with you? I didn’t even see you flirting with anyone.”

  That made Yori laugh, but she instantly sobered. “I didn’t go to the second floor. Went to the third.”

  Leah felt a little chill dance along her shoulder blades. “Why? What were you looking for?”

  “Wanted to make sure anyone who was on the premises actually wanted to be there.”

  Leah’s chill intensified as she thought that over. “And— Was anyone there against their will?”

  Yori gave her a quick glance, then returned her attention to the road. “Not anymore.”

  “But you— What was— I don’t even know—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Yori said. “I’ll tell the regent.”

  Leah continued to stare at Yori a few more moments, not sure what to say, what to think. She couldn’t bring herself to ask for details about what, exactly, Yori had found in those upstairs rooms, so she finally shook her head and leaned back into her seat. “I suppose,” she said at last, “we’ll both have a lot to tell the regent the next time we see him.”

  “I suppose we will.”

  In Leah’s case, that was a great deal sooner than she expected, because he was waiting for her when she got home.

  One of the servants met her at the door and took her directly to Zoe’s lounge, where she found Darien Serlast relaxing in a chair and staring meditatively at the merry little brook that ran around the perimeter.

  “Darien,” she said blankly. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s my house,” he said mildly.

  She dropped into a seat across from him. “Yes, but you don’t live here,” she pointed out. “So you must want something.”

  “Just to hear how your evening went. I happened to be nearby and decided I would drop in and wait for you.”

  “Had I known, I would have come back sooner. I’m sorry if you were bored.”

  “Not at all. I had a lovely visit with Virrie and Mally until they went upstairs. And then I had a few minutes of utter quiet, which I enjoyed immensely. Such moments are rare in the life of anyone who aspires to be king.” He glanced around the room. “I was remembering what it was like to be an ordinary man with no particular ambitions or responsibilities.”

  “You were never that man,” she challenged. “Your father was prime and you were serving at the court from the day you were old enough to say ‘Yes, sire’ and ‘No, sire.’ You have no idea what the life of an ordinary man is like— No, and you’d hate such a life if it was forced on you.”

  His gray eyes showed faint amusement. “Maybe. It seems unlikely I will ever find out. So, tell me about your party tonight. Was it as debauched as you feared?”

  “No—Yori called it tame, and I’m inclined to agree. At least, the parts that I was privileged to see were far from shocking. Yori will tell you about other activities she stumbled upon.”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment on that. “Well, it couldn’t have been entirely proper,” he said, “since you reek of sineshee.”

  She grinned. “And I offered my host a gift of veneben, which he was delighted to receive. I did not mention that I got it from you, though maybe I should have. Maybe he would like you better.”

  Darien raised his eyebrows. “He dislikes me? I thought I had been most agreeable in my dealings with him.”

  Leah kicked off her shoes, slouched back in her chair, and prepared to enjoy herself as she related the conversation. “I’m not sure he dislikes you so much as the way Welce is governed,” she said. “First, he expressed a low opinion of a ruler who has to seek the approval of his ministers before he can take any actions.”

  Darien smiled slightly. “I might have overemphasized my reliance on the primes so I could avoid giving him direct answers.”

  “Very smart,” she approved. “Next, he seemed suspicious of any country that couldn’t provide an unbroken series of kings and queens all descended from the same progenitor. Apparently every ruler in the Karkades has produced the next one since the day the place was founded.”

  “I had heard that,” Darien said, “and wondered if it could possibly be true. I would guess that here and there history has glossed over an impotent king or a barren queen.”

  She grinned. “As Welce tried to do?”

  “With disastrous results, as you know.”

  “At any rate, that was something else that displeased him. But the worst thing is that he thinks of you as a pretender. Or a usurper. He isn’t sure which.”

  Darien cocked his head to one side. “You’ll have to explain that.”

  “He doesn’t understand why you will be named king when there’s a living heir of Vernon’s own bloodline. So he thinks you’ve either snatched the crown away from Odelia—or you and the primes have cooked up this story as a way to shield Odelia from attention until she’s old enough to rule.”

  She had the satisfaction of seeing Darien nonplussed. “But these are— Both stories are too far-fetched to be believed,” he said. “Clearly, he’s been researching the Welchin royal family, but key pieces of his knowledge are wrong.”

  She smiled broadly. “And that’s the most interesting thing I learned tonight. I think I figured out where he got his information.”

  Darien’s gaze sharpened and fixed on her face. “Which was where?”

  “From someone who happened to be at this event. One of Vernon’s former queens.”

  For a split second, fury and disgust roughened Darien’s face, and then he resumed his habitual calm mask. “Alys. Of course. I should have expecte
d her to be on the scene.”

  “She could have filled his head with all sorts of tales about how you betrayed Vernon by stealing the crown from his daughter,” Leah said. “I don’t know why she would bother, though.”

  “Merely to cause me difficulties, no matter how slight. If the prince does not trust me, he will not negotiate with me in good conscience. Even if it merely costs me a trade agreement, Alys will feel her meddling achieved her goal.”

  “Apparently she also told him that Vernon was a strong, decisive king who didn’t need the steadying hands of his primes,” Leah said. “Unlike you—the weakling or the pretender or whatever you are.”

  “Interesting. Alys might have done me a favor, not intending to. I do not want to make alliances with the Karkan prince, but I also do not want to anger our Soechin neighbors. If they believe I am ineffectual as opposed to obstructive, I suppose it is not a bad thing.”

  “What did you think of him?” Leah asked abruptly. “The prince?”

  “I thought he was so focused on himself and his own desires that he would be easy to manipulate,” Darien answered promptly. “Except that he was also very intelligent, which would make him difficult to outwit. My guess is that he is a man without boundaries, which makes him dangerous.”

  “Josetta said she hated him.”

  He smiled. “Josetta has hated most of the foreign royalty who have visited Chialto, so you can’t judge by that.”

  “I didn’t like him, either,” Leah said, “but I’m not sure I could say why. He just seemed—like someone I wouldn’t want to be alone with.”

  “Well, that’s not much of a standard,” Darien said, unimpressed. “The list of people with whom I would not want to be left alone is almost as long as the list of people I know.”

  That sent Leah into a fit of the giggles. “I meant,” she said, when she was able to speak again, “that I would not feel safe around him.”

  Darien hadn’t even cracked a smile. “You think he would offer you bodily harm?”

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe. I think it comes back to what you said earlier. He seems to have no boundaries. So if I was alone with him, he might do anything he pleased. Things I wouldn’t even think of.”