Jeweled Fire
“She might just be homesick,” Liramelli said. “It’s obvious she’s not happy here.”
“Maybe she’s ashamed of something that’s happened,” Garameno said. “Maybe she’s done something that she knows would render her an outcast at home.”
“Well, I can’t imagine what,” Steff said.
Garameno shrugged. “Maybe she’s pregnant.”
They all cried out at that, and even Greggorio swung around to enter the conversation. “You’ve got a nasty mind,” he said angrily.
Garameno spread his hands. “How so? Pregnancy is an unfortunate side effect of certain very human activities, and Alette would not be the first woman to find herself in such a predicament.”
“Well, since she’s hardly spoken to anyone, I can’t imagine she’s taken a lover,” Liramelli said.
Garameno’s gaze was fixed on his cousin. “She sees three eligible men on a daily basis. It’s certainly possible that she would develop a fondness for one of them.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Liramelli said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
Corene didn’t speak; she was fascinated by the interplay between Filomara’s nephews. Greggorio looked flushed and angry, and maybe the slightest bit guilty. Garameno appeared calm and relaxed, but Corene sensed that he, too, was hot with anger. It was yet another reminder of how intensely Filomara’s heirs were competing for her crown, how clearly they saw their cousins as rivals.
“Who would be the likeliest seducer?” Garameno went on. He gestured at his lap, where even on this hot day, a light blanket covered his twisted legs. “The man who needs a great deal of cooperation before he can take a woman to bed?” He flung a hand out to indicate the palace where, presumably, Jiramondi was engaged in some useful pursuit. “The man who does not even like women? Or the handsome, whole, attractive specimen who kisses any girl who stands still long enough for him to embrace her?”
“I ought to punch you,” Greggorio said fiercely. “And if you were a whole man, I’d do it.”
Corene felt Liramelli flinch beside her, but neither of them interrupted. Steff was similarly silent, though his troubled gaze passed back and forth between the cousins.
“And yet I don’t hear you saying that, as far as you know, there’s no reason Alette could possibly be with child,” Garameno said.
As if he couldn’t help himself, Greggorio swiftly glanced at Liramelli, then away. “It’s insulting to her that you would even say that. But, no, I would have no reason to think she might be pregnant.”
“Yet you do have a relationship with her,” Garameno pursued. “I have seen you talking in the conservatory, and in the gardens, and you escorted her to the market not three days ago.”
That got all of them staring at Greggorio. Although it had never been explicitly stated as a rule, shopping expeditions tended to be group outings—and no one else had been able to engage Alette in a private conversation. Again, he flicked a look at Liramelli.
“So what if I talk to her? If I’m nice to her? Nobody else in this whole city is. If she’s lonely and sad, it’s because she’s been treated so badly. I was just trying to befriend her.”
“Which is admirable, of course,” Garameno said. “Since you’ve befriended so many other women.”
“And she hasn’t been treated badly—you shouldn’t say that,” Liramelli said. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve tried to talk to her. And my mother has tried, and Jiramondi, too! She’s always aloof.”
“We’ll all try harder, after today,” Corene said.
Garameno glanced at her. “And have even less success, I’d wager,” he said. “She strikes me as the type who grows more silent as she grows more desperate.”
Corene met his eyes squarely and smiled. “Maybe so,” she said. “But I think you’re off on some of your calculations. Alette doesn’t spend her days with three eligible heirs—there are four, or don’t you remember? Surely you haven’t forgotten Steff?”
“Hey, I never did anything to Alette,” Steff said in alarm.
Garameno inclined his head in Corene’s direction. “My mistake. Of course I haven’t forgotten Steffanolo. I just thought it unlikely he had been here long enough to establish himself in Alette’s good graces.”
“Well, I haven’t been. I mean, I’m going to try to be her friend, but that’s all.”
“Don’t worry,” Garameno said softly, seeming to speak to Corene alone. “I don’t forget how many people are playing this game.”
She broke the stare, sighed, and leaned back against the seat cushions. “No,” she said. “I don’t suppose any of us do.”
Naturally, there was no going on to the white tower this day, and Corene suspected that her expedition to the Great Market with Liramelli would be postponed indefinitely. The minute they returned to the palace, Melissande disappeared with Alette, Greggorio headed to his quarters, and Garameno rolled off to find his aunt. Steff and Liramelli and Corene were left feeling odd and unsettled, and even the prospect of playing penta didn’t lift their spirits.
“Let’s go out to the gardens,” Liramelli suggested. That sounded as good as anything, so they did.
While the front of the palace was little more than stone and courtyard, the back was mostly vegetation. It was as if the architects who drew up plans for the grounds couldn’t decide what sort of garden would be best, so they’d laid in every kind they could think of. There were the neat rows of vegetables and spices occupying a fenced area near the kitchen. There were multiple flower gardens all clustered together, each spilling over with its own particular color and variety of blossom. And on the far back edge of the lawn there was a hedge maze with high evergreen walls and twisting pathways that led to a secret heart.
Between the rain and the heat that had constituted Malinqua’s weather since she arrived, Corene hadn’t bothered spending much time outdoors. But as the ninedays marched through Quinnatorz, the temperature had become much more tolerable, and today’s weather was downright pleasant. Perfect for a garden stroll.
Liramelli led them straight to the hedge maze and said, “This has always been my favorite place on the palace grounds.”
Foley had followed them this far, but he glanced at Corene and said, “I’ll wait out here.”
She laughed. “Afraid you’ll get lost inside?”
He smiled back. “Afraid to have my movements restricted. Not much space for maneuvering.”
All she could think to say in reply to that was, “Oh.” Fighting for my life was never the first activity she considered whenever she was about to enter a new environment. Apparently it was always Foley’s.
Steff stepped into the maze right after Liramelli, but Corene, who was last, saw him glance back several times as if to find markers that would delineate his passage. “I don’t mind admitting that I’m a little afraid I’ll make it to the middle but never be able to find my way back,” he said.
“You could always break your way out through the bushes,” Corene said. “If you were that desperate.”
“Then everyone would know how stupid I am,” he retorted.
“They already know,” she said, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at her.
“Don’t worry, there’s a pattern,” said Liramelli. “The first turn is a left, but then you take right turns the whole way until you get to the center.”
“Even you ought to be able to remember that,” Corene said to Steff.
“I was thinking I ought to write it down for you,” he answered.
Liramelli glanced back at them, appearing slightly amused and slightly appalled. “You two argue like brother and sister,” she said.
“That’s about right,” Corene replied. “His brother is in love with my sister.”
“But maybe that means you should be flirting instead of fighting.”
“He liked me when he fi
rst met me,” Corene remarked. “He was falling all over himself to be nice—it was all Princess Corene this and Princess Corene that. He’d never been off the farm, you know, and I was the first royalty he’d ever met. But now—”
Steff was grinning. “But now that I’m surrounded by princesses and high-born women, I’m not so impressed,” he said. “Anyway, she treats me like a servant. Like I’m only useful when I’m not annoying.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” Corene said. “I’m nicer to the servants than I am to you.”
“I think I was right the first time,” Liramelli said. “You act like brother and sister.”
“I’m sure that would make Garameno happy,” Corene said dryly. “He doesn’t seem to want any more romantic competition from Filomara’s other heirs.”
Almost on the words they stepped into the center of the maze. It was a pretty little clearing, featuring a gazebo built around a small, playful fountain. Though the rest of the hedge had been a determined and unrelieved green, red and purple flowers flourished around the outside of the white gazebo and twined up the wooden slats of its walls.
“Well, isn’t this lovely,” Corene exclaimed. “Worth the risk of getting lost trying to find it.”
“Greggorio and I used to come here all the time. I still do, when I want to be alone,” Liramelli said. “Almost no one else ever goes to the trouble of walking the maze, so I usually have the place to myself.”
They stepped inside the welcome shade of the gazebo and took seats on the bench that made a semicircle around the fountain. The maze itself was torz, Corene decided, but the gazebo was all coru. An unexpected favorite spot for a girl like Liramelli. Corene inspected her with interest, as if seeing the broad, honest face and the clear, direct eyes for the first time. “What do you think, Steff?” she asked. “Wouldn’t Liramelli be elay?”
“That’s what I’ve thought from the beginning,” he agreed.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I told you that in Welce we all claim some affiliation with the elements. Elay people are creatures of air and spirit, and they have all these admirable traits like honor and kindness. They just reek with goodness. Like my sister Josetta.”
Steff was grinning. “Yeah, but don’t forget that some of them are locked-in-the-madhouse crazy, too, like Kayle Dochenza.”
“I don’t think Liramelli is that kind of elay.”
“Too bad there isn’t a temple here—we could draw blessings for her,” Steff said.
“I think there is, though,” Liramelli said. “There’s an international district not far from the wharf where you can buy food from at least ten different countries. It’s called the Little Islands. It also has all these sanctuaries and shrines, and I’m pretty sure there’s a Welchin temple.”
“We don’t need a temple, because my sister sent me a whole set of blessings,” Corene said. “I’ve been drawing one every morning just to feel close to her.”
Steff jabbed her with his elbow. “Oh, thanks for telling me that! Maybe I would have liked to pull a coin now and then, but I didn’t know you had your own private blessing barrel in your room.”
“Well, come on in before dinner, then, and pull as many as you like.”
“What do the blessings tell you?” Liramelli asked.
“They just—if you feel like you need guidance for the day. If you need some kind of inspiration or—or—well, it’s hard to explain, really,” Corene said. “They just make you feel better.”
Steff scooped up a dead branch that lay under the stone bench and began stripping it of its withered berries, then tossing them one by one into the fountain. “So what did you draw for this morning’s blessing?” he asked. “Since this would have been a good day to have some guidance.”
She laughed. “It was surprise,” she said. “So I guess I should have known.”
“I’m worried about Alette,” Liramelli said seriously. “Is it even safe to leave her alone? Someone who would jump off a tower could find a lot of other ways to kill herself.”
“What did you think of Garameno’s idea?” Steff asked. “Alette and Greggorio?”
Corene elbowed him sharply, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “What?” he demanded. “What did I say?”
Liramelli smiled sadly. “She thinks it will break my heart to hear of Greggorio pursuing other women.”
“Well, you’ll just have to get over that,” said Steff, insensitive as ever. Corene wanted to hit him. “From everything I hear, he’s never going to be the kind of man who settles down with one woman, so you either accept that about him or you stop caring about him. It never does any good to hope people will change.”
Corene changed her mind about hitting him; that was actually pretty good advice. “I vote that you stop caring about him,” she said. “Just wash your hands of all the royal men! Let’s concentrate on finding you a nice rich boy who also happens to be handsome. And thoughtful. And interesting to talk to. Maybe you’ll meet one at the gala, whenever Filomara decides to hold it.”
“Hey, wait. I’m one of the royal men,” Steff said. “She doesn’t have to wash her hands of me.”
“She’s got too much sense to be interested in you,” Corene informed him.
“Just because you don’t have enough sense to be interested—”
Liramelli was laughing. “I will be happy to keep Steffanolo on my list of potential husbands if he keeps me on his list of potential brides,” she said.
“Well, if I had to choose from the ones gathered here at the palace, I’d pick you first,” he said frankly. “I mean—Alette? The crazy woman? I don’t think so.” He jerked a thumb at Corene. “And you can see how well we get along.”
“I would expect Melissande to be the one everyone falls in love with,” Liramelli said with a little sigh. “She’s so beautiful and—and delightful. I always feel like a giant lump when she’s in the room.”
“Everybody feels like they’re a giant lump when she’s in the room,” he assured her. “She’s much too sophisticated. It’s very intimidating.”
“So you can see how pleased you should be when he calls you his top choice,” Corene said. “It’s not that he actually likes you, it’s that everyone else has a flaw he can’t abide.”
“I noticed that,” Liramelli said. Her voice was grave but her eyes were dancing. “I’ll try not to be too flattered.”
Steff sighed heavily. “This is why it’s impossible to talk to women,” he said. “They twist everything you say.”
“Well, if you didn’t say stupid things—”
The conversation went on like that for the next half hour, until the angle of the sun reminded them that they were perilously close to the dinner hour. As they came to their feet and followed Liramelli out through the hedge, Corene reflected that this had been the most relaxed and happy space of time she had spent since she arrived in Malinqua. It surprised her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her easy camaraderie with Steff during all the days he was closeted with Filomara—and she hadn’t expected the reserved and solemn Liramelli to be someone she would enjoy getting to know.
Actually, she’d never had much experience with making friends, so she hadn’t realized how pleasant it could be to have some. It had just been one more thing she didn’t think she needed.
One more thing she’d been wrong about.
• • •
Emilita fussed and scolded, but worked efficiently even so, with the result that Corene was dressed and ready for the evening meal in record time. She excused the maid, then knocked on Foley’s door to let him know she was going down to dinner. And to snatch a moment to discuss the events of the day.
“I’m so distressed about Alette,” she said. “Why do you think she might have done such a thing?”
“People can have a lot of reasons for not wanting to live an
ymore.”
“Garameno thought she might be pregnant.”
Foley nodded again. “I heard that theory down at the stables.”
“He all but accused Greggorio of seducing her.”
“Maybe,” Foley said. “Or maybe she left a lover behind in Dhonsho. Or maybe—” He paused, looking troubled.
“What?”
“Someone here could have assaulted her, and she was too ashamed to speak up.”
Entirely without warning, Corene was flooded with fury. “You’re right,” she exclaimed. “She’s alone in a place that she clearly hates—she has no one to protect her and no one to turn to if something goes wrong. And there are always men who will prey on young women and think no one will punish them for what they do.”
Foley looked down at her and she saw remorse and compassion on his face. “Like your stepfather,” he said, “who came after you.”
Corene repressed a shudder. She hadn’t realized Foley knew that story—then again, she’d taken steps to make sure everyone knew it, so she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. “I had protectors, though,” she said. “I had people I could tell and places I could run to.”
“You wouldn’t have had to run,” Foley said. “If I’d been assigned to you back then.”
“Really? In my mother’s own house?” she said. “You’d have stood guard at my bedroom door?”
“If you’d needed me.”
“You wouldn’t have known. No one knew, except some of the maids.”
“I would have known.”
She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him, assessing. But his face was perfectly serious, his gaze level. “What exactly would you have done,” she asked slowly, “to keep him away from me?”
“Whatever I had to do,” he said.
“You’d have—punched him in the face?” she guessed. “Stabbed him in the ribs?”
“Thrown him out a window. Any of those things,” Foley said.
“But he could have had you arrested for assaulting him.”
Foley shrugged.