Page 37 of Jeweled Fire


  “Since the day you left, your father has been debating whether to send someone after you,” Nelson said.

  Corene scowled. “He has?”

  Nelson frowned her down. “Don’t get sulky on me. Of course he has. And of course he’s been watching you closely since you arrived.”

  Corene sighed. Leah was only the most visible of Darien’s spies. He might have twenty more that she would never even know were nearby.

  “When we got word of Berringese forces sailing into the harbor, he began to grow truly alarmed. That’s when he marshaled his own navy—”

  “Which is exactly what the empress wanted him to do!”

  Nelson nodded. “And then, since I was coming anyway, he asked me to play ambassador and get a true read of the situation if I could. And I must say,” he added, “the true situation is as convoluted as they come. Royal hostages, foreign wars, homegrown coups— It’s hard to sort it all out.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Corene said. “I think there are at least two factions at work. I think Filomara came up with the idea of importing foreign brides for her nephews—and then, if necessary, keeping them as pawns to win military support from Cozique and Welce. But I think someone else is trying to control the succession by getting rid of rivals.”

  “Who do you suspect?”

  She shook her head. “Everyone at court could have a favorite.”

  “Well, who is the person most likely to be named heir?”

  She thought it over. “Generally speaking, I think everyone expects it to be Greggorio. He’s well liked and he looks the part—and good advisors could compensate for the fact that he’s not very smart.”

  Nelson grinned appreciatively at the description, but just said, “So someone is trying to push him out of contention?”

  She shook her head. “I think someone is trying to keep him in contention. Aravani and Subriella were the most likely heirs—until they died. Filomara’s brothers were the next likely heirs—until two of them died and two were banished. Garameno—but he was incapacitated. Jiramondi—” She considered. “I’m not sure anyone ever thought he was a viable candidate.”

  “So, how does that explain the dead girl? The one thrown down the underground passage?”

  “Someone didn’t want Greggorio distracted,” she explained. “Until he started flirting with Sarona, everyone assumed Greggorio would marry Liramelli.”

  “The prefect’s daughter,” Nelson said, nodding. “An ideal pairing. So, Sarona would need to be eliminated to keep Greggorio free to marry Liramelli.”

  “Alette had to be gotten rid of, too, for the same reason.”

  Nelson gave her a keen look. “So who do you think is trying to shepherd Greggorio to the throne?”

  Corene wrapped her arms around her shoulders and hugged herself against the chill. “The most obvious person would be the prefect or his wife,” she said. “Working together or independently.”

  “What do you think of them as suspects?”

  She shook her head. “I like Mariana a great deal—Harlo a little less so—but I don’t know either of them very well. And anyone whose family has survived at court for generations—” She shrugged.

  “Is capable of playing a deep game,” Nelson finished. “Anyone else you favor for murder?”

  She managed an unhappy smile. “If it’s not someone trying to put Greggorio on the throne, then I’d have to pick Garameno as the plotter,” she said. “He’s clever enough to plan a careful coup that takes years in the making. And he’s an excellent candidate for the throne—the oldest of his generation, and the smartest, too. But his injury makes him less appealing to most of the people who matter.”

  “It also makes him less likely to be the killer if he was a victim of the killer’s machinations,” Nelson pointed out.

  “True. Unless the accident was really just an accident. And he was so enraged by the cruelty of fate that he decided to eliminate all his rivals.”

  “So if Garameno is cold-bloodedly murdering anyone higher in the lists than he is— How did he react to Steff’s appearance at court?”

  “Of the three nephews, Garameno has been the least welcoming and Jiramondi has been the most,” she said, “but none of them were pleased to see Steff.”

  “Which brings me back to my earlier point, but with a little more urgency,” said Nelson. “It’s not safe for Steff to stay.”

  She nodded. “I know. And yet—I don’t know that he’s in real danger unless he’s named Filomara’s heir, and I think that’s unlikely to happen.” When Nelson looked skeptical, she said, “He’s a stranger. He knows nothing about the people or the country. If someone had sailed into Welce last year and proved to be Vernon’s grandson, would the primes have blithely turned the country over to him to govern?”

  Nelson shook his head. “Obviously not. But we might have been willing to marry off this mythical offspring to you or Josetta in order to combine his bloodline with your deep knowledge of the culture. If I were backing Steff as a candidate, that’s exactly what I’d do—find him a bride among the high-ranking nobility. The prefect’s daughter, for instance.”

  Corene nodded. “If that’s the case—if whoever is running this grand scheme is doing it on behalf of Liramelli—then Steff is actually safer than anyone.”

  “Which brings us right back to the prefect and his wife.”

  Corene nodded again. “Or other politicians who support Harlo. There are dozens of factions among the nobles and I honestly don’t know the players well enough to guess who might be capable of pulling off something this big.”

  “Layers and layers,” Nelson agreed. “There always are. Well, it’s a puzzle, sure enough, and a fascinating one. But once you leave—” He shrugged. Not your problem anymore.

  “Do you really think you can get me out of here? Filomara seemed pretty certain you’re just as trapped as I am.”

  “I have more resources at my back,” he drawled. “And systems in place that will trip an alarm if I do not make certain appearances every day. Filomara can’t afford a war on two fronts. She wanted the Welchin navy here to support her, not to attack her. She’ll let us go. Once I have concluded my business—”

  That reminded her of something he’d mentioned at the very beginning of the conversation. “Wait—you said you were coming to Malinqua anyway. Why?”

  “One of those amazing coincidences. I happened to be with Kayle Dochenza when he was approached by a remarkable woman—a sea captain, it turns out, the most robust and redoubtable creature. She wanted him to verify the identify of a woman she’d met in Malinqua, who claimed to be a friend of Kayle’s.”

  “Leah,” Corene guessed. “She’s a spy for my father.”

  “Leah, indeed. Kayle read the letter she produced, told the captain, ‘Yes, she’s exactly who she says she is,’ and then handed the paper to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he knew I’ve been looking for Leah for five years.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because that’s how long ago she ran away.”

  Corene shouldn’t have been so surprised. It had always been clear that Leah was gently bred—she might be working as a shopgirl and spy in Malinqua, but she moved and spoke like a woman of noble birth. And if Darien had known her before she turned to espionage, it made sense that Nelson did as well. In fact, Nelson had probably sought Leah out even before he came to the palace. That was what Leah had wanted to tell her, Corene guessed—that the sweela prime had arrived in Malinqua and was ready to upend all their lives. “Why did she run away? How well did you know her?” She appraised him frowningly. All the sweela men—the Ardelays in particular—were notorious for their flirtations and affairs, but Leah was barely half Nelson’s age.

  He laughed at her expression and held up his hands in self-defense. “I’m not the one who took her for
a lover,” he said. “It was Rhan.”

  Rhan was Nelson’s youngest son, a man of indiscriminate affections and irresistible charm. One of Corene’s favorite people in all of Welce, as it happened, though he couldn’t be trusted for a minute. “Rhan. Of course. So he seduced and abandoned her—”

  “You would have to get his version of the story to be certain of that,” Nelson said gently. “But all accounts agree that there was a baby girl born of the union.”

  “Ah,” Corene said. “Poor Leah. But did she bring the baby here? She hasn’t mentioned a daughter.”

  “No,” Nelson replied on a sigh. “Taro offered to care for the child—”

  “Leah’s related to Taro Frothen?” He was the torz prime, one of the most powerful men in all of Welce. Corene couldn’t believe it.

  “She’s his niece.”

  “If she’s part of the Five Famlies, she must have been at the Chialto court pretty often. Why haven’t I ever met her before?”

  “You probably did, when you were much younger. She looks much different than she used to—she’s changed her hair and her style of dress. I might not have recognized her myself except that I was searching for her.”

  “I still can’t believe that a daughter of the Five Families is living in the slums of Palminera.”

  “I believe when Darien proposed the move she would have preferred any situation that took her out of Rhan’s vicinity.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I am hoping to bring her back with me. I think perhaps the heartache will have faded enough that she will be willing to resume her old life again. And perhaps be a mother to her daughter—who could use one.”

  Corene tried to remember who had been on the premises whenever she had visited Taro’s property during the past five years. There were always people clustered around the torz prime—he collected them as easily as other people collected shells or coins. “So Taro and Virrie are raising Leah’s daughter? I wonder if I ever met her.”

  “Many times,” Nelson answered. “Her name is Mally.”

  Now Corene was so shocked she almost fell off the bench. “She’s the decoy princess? The one who’s been standing in for Odelia all this time?”

  Nelson nodded. “The one whose life changed forever when we realized Odelia was not fit for the throne. She will always have a home with Taro, and he’s the man I’d want raising my children if I wasn’t around, but the situation is far from ideal. Mally has no place at court anymore. No parents looking out for her. What is to become of her? Leah should come home and care for her daughter—and so I told her.”

  “Well, Rhan should care for her as well,” Corene said. “Shame on him to ignore her all this time!”

  “It is not entirely his fault,” Nelson said. “He could hardly show a partiality for her if she was masquerading as Odelia—not if we wanted the fiction to hold. Nor could I single her out, nor any of us related to her by blood. It nearly killed my wife to know she had a grandchild that she could not kiss and make a fuss over.”

  “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Corene said reluctantly. “But I will still scold Rhan the next time I see him.”

  “I think you should,” Nelson said. “He has behaved very badly in all this.”

  “It is what one expects of an Ardelay.”

  Nelson laughed. “It is indeed.”

  “But tell me what’s going on in Welce! Zoe’s letters are so haphazard you can’t really tell what’s happening, and Josetta is too kind to dwell on scandals. So tell me everything. Who’s in trouble? Who’s in favor? When will Darien be crowned?”

  You could hardly find a better person than the sweela prime to pass on a quintile’s worth of gossip, and they spent a very enjoyable twenty minutes while he shared the latest news. But there was one name noticeably missing from his report.

  “You’ve said nothing about my mother,” she said when he was done. She was proud of herself for keeping her voice so level.

  He gave her one quick, keen glance. “I thought you must have gotten her news directly from Alys.”

  Corene shook her head. “Not a letter. Not a word.”

  “Ah. Well, then, I suppose you don’t know she’s moved out of Dominic Wollimer’s house and petitioned to dissolve the marriage.”

  “I didn’t, but I can’t say I’m surprised.” It had seemed clear that Alys only married Dominic because she thought his heirs would be in line for the Welchin throne. That was why she’d gotten pregnant, too. Once the primes had decided Darien should be the next king, Alys had no incentive to stay with her husband. Corene took a careful breath. “I suppose such a separation will make it difficult on the baby, once it’s born.”

  “Ah,” Nelson said again. “Sadly, she miscarried a few ninedays ago. Shortly after you sailed, in fact.”

  Shortly after the primes chose Darien. “Miscarried?” Corene repeated.

  “That’s what she claimed.”

  For a moment, she just stared at him. Nelson made no effort to look away, just held her gaze with steady compassion. He knew what she was thinking, of course: How lucky I am that the whole royal court was excited about my birth, or I might have been “miscarried,” too. All these ninedays mired in Malinquese politics, and Corene had almost forgotten how ugly life could be back in her own palace. Or at least, in her mother’s household.

  “How challenging for her,” she said at last. “I hope she recovers soon from the loss.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Well—I think she already has.”

  When Corene was silent, Nelson slapped his hands on his thighs and then came to his feet. “So!” he said, a little too heartily. “I think we are all caught up and agreed on our next steps. We will stay for this celebration and we will be gone the next day. We will leave Steff behind to maneuver his way among his bloodthirsty relatives, but we will take Leah back with us. And if Filomara tries to stop us—well, she will see that Welchin soldiers are fiercer than she expects.”

  “Yes, it sounds good,” Corene said, her words ringing somewhat hollow in her ears. She was ready to leave Malinqua behind, but not at all eager to return to Welce. She knew she was tired of court life, but she didn’t know what to replace it with, and nothing awaiting her in Welce held any particular appeal. Then there was the matter of Foley. Once she was back in Chialto, would he disappear from her life? How would she hold on to him? How would she convince him that if she wasn’t a princess, she could love wherever she chose? What if he convinced her that he thought of her only the way he’d thought of Josetta—as someone to protect, not someone to love? Wouldn’t Welce be even drearier then? It was all she could do not to sigh out loud.

  “Don’t worry,” Nelson said, sensing her dissatisfaction, though she hoped he hadn’t correctly interpreted the cause. “Everything will be fine once we’re home.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  That night’s dinner was the most enjoyable meal Corene could remember since she’d arrived in Palminera. There was something about the presence of the sweela prime that loosened people’s tongues and made them want to talk, made them vie with each other to tell their stories. Nelson listened, he laughed, he asked incisive questions until every one of them sat back with a little glow, believing that they had finally been heard and understood. Some capricious chance had put Melissande next to Nelson at the table, and their delight in each other’s company spilled over to everyone else in the room. Corene even caught Bartolo smiling once or twice, and she couldn’t remember ever witnessing that before.

  Quite a change from breakfast, she thought.

  After the meal, Lorian came to the doorway and nodded at Filomara in a silent communication. She came to her feet and asked Nelson to withdraw with her for private conversation—then, after a moment’s hesitation, included Steff, Garameno, and Harlo in the invitation. Corene caught the look of desolation on Jiramondi’s face, quickly masked; Greggorio
didn’t even seem to notice he’d been excluded.

  Corene glanced swiftly at Melissande and Liramelli, jerking her head toward the door, and they both nodded. Five minutes later they were all ensconced in Corene’s room, while Foley retreated to his own quarters.

  “I love him!” Melissande exclaimed, flinging herself onto a sofa. “Nelson! You could talk to him for years and never get bored!”

  “I liked him, too,” Liramelli said. “But I think he would be exhausting to be around for any length of time.”

  Corene laughed. “Both statements are true,” she said. “He is the personification of all the sweela traits.”

  “So, is he really here to take you away from us?” Liramelli demanded. “I’m not ready for you to go! I’ll miss you so much.”

  “Yes, I am very sad to think of you leaving,” Melissande said.

  “And I am sorry to leave the two of you, but it is time I was gone,” Corene said firmly. “I think, after last night, even Filomara will be happy to see the last of me.”

  Liramelli groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Last night! All those things you said!” She looked up, her expression serious. “My father was so upset. He and my mother stayed up talking for hours. He said he had never put events together that way, that it took an outsider to see a pattern all of them had overlooked.”

  “So now he thinks there might truly be a murderer on the loose in the palace?” Corene asked carefully. And he doesn’t think it’s himself?

  Liramelli nodded. “He says he will talk to the empress about initiating an investigation. But who can be trusted to lead it? Anyone close to the throne could somehow be involved.”

  “It is very unnerving,” Melissande agreed. “At the same time, it is a little bit exciting.”

  Liramelli sighed. “I think I would prefer it if life was duller than this.” She looked over at Corene with a doleful expression. “When you and Nelson Ardelay leave—are you taking Steff with you?”

  “No,” Corene said. “He wants to stay.”