Royal Airs

  Rafe found his opinion of Darien rising as he viewed the man in this setting, surrounded by the women who loved him. He was still autocratic, peremptory, and overconfident, but he was also warm, humorous, and affectionate. It began to make more sense to him that the wayward and generous Zoe might want to be married to him.

  “Well, I expect the next few days to be chaotic in the extreme, and all of you look like you’re ready to fall asleep in your chairs,” Darien said as the meal drew to a close. “Except Celia—I imagine she’ll be awake till midnight. But the rest of you might as well seek your beds.”

  “Gladly,” Corene said through a yawn. “Oh, but—wait. Steff, I want to show you Zoe’s favorite room in the house. You’re coru, so you’ll like it—it’s got a river.”

  “A river? Inside? I have to see that,” Steff answered, and the two of them jumped to their feet and disappeared out the door.

  Darien turned to Zoe. “I have asked the other primes to join me in the morning. I expect only Taro to be missing, since he has some distance to travel. But the rest of us can debate some of our many, many concerns in what time we have before the empress arrives on our doorstep.”

  “Does she have a name?” Zoe asked. “It seems so odd to just call her ‘the empress.’”

  Darien nodded. “She does indeed have a name. Filomara Marita Subriella. Which sounds much gentler than I believe she is.”

  Rafe felt shock go through him with the force of a crash landing. Years of card-playing enabled him to keep his face impassive, show none of his astonishment or confusion. But he was more than familiar with some of those soft syllables. Subriella had been his mother’s name.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Josetta didn’t like the empress of Malinqua any more than she had liked the prince of Berringey. She remembered how intensely she had hated the viceroy of Soeche-Tas and wondered if perhaps she just despised royalty. Or people who wielded power. During the past five years, her sympathies had become much more allied with the poor and powerless. It made it harder to sit at state dinners and play the part of princess.

  The empress had arrived in Chialto in the morning, escorted by a hundred of her own men and fifty of Darien’s, who had been on hand to greet her when she disembarked. The Welchin soldiers had brought her directly to the palace, where she was welcomed by a hastily assembled cast of queens, princesses, and primes.

  “Sorry to arrive before I was scheduled,” she said to Darien, speaking in Coziquela and not sounding particularly sorry. “The winds were so favorable we could hardly hold back the sails.”

  “We’re delighted to have you, no matter when you appear,” he replied, not sounding particularly delighted, either. He gestured at the men behind her, filling the courtyard with their red-and-white uniforms and their prominently displayed weaponry. “You must have been forced to leave some of your guard behind! Surely there were more men than these on the many ships you brought to harbor.”

  Her eyes gleamed with understanding and malice. She was a tall, solid woman with iron-gray hair and a square, unsmiling face. Unlike Ghyaneth, she hadn’t bothered to array herself in resplendent dress for this final leg of her journey. She was wearing black trousers and—even in the heat of Quinnahunti—a long black jacket embroidered with red and white flowers. The clothes were well-made but hardly luxurious. She had dispensed with a crown or any other distinguishing headpiece, but across her chest and shoulders she wore a heavy chain of interlinked metal plates, each as big as a hand and studded with rubies. It was substantial enough to make Josetta think of armor, which she had to believe was the intent.

  “I admit, I am a cautious woman, and I have been treated poorly by other heads of state,” the empress said. “I have no reason to think you mean me ill, but I assume you are more likely to treat me well if you know my archers could burn down your city in a matter of hours.”

  “And yet other heads of state have shown you disrespect,” Darien marveled.

  She gave a sharp bark of laughter. “There are many who believe a woman on the throne must be weaker than a man,” she said. “I would not want you to make that mistake.”

  “I never underestimate women,” Darien replied. “I think it is my greatest source of strength.”

  One of those women sailed forward almost upon the words. “Let me welcome you into our capital,” said Elidon. “We have prepared rooms for you and thirty attendants. We must discuss where you would like us to billet your remaining soldiers.”

  Filomara glanced around the courtyard. “This will do.”

  “It will not,” Elidon said with great courtesy and utter inflexibility. “But there are several barracks outside the city, and you may take your pick.”

  “If I cannot have my troops around me, I cannot stay,” said Filomara.

  Elidon didn’t even hesitate. “Then you may return to the port so that you can have them on your ships nearby. We will happily join you there while we conduct negotiations.”

  There was a long silence while Filomara appeared to be weighing Elidon’s words, testing them for any hint of bluff. “Thirty of my soldiers with me in the palace, twenty in the courtyard, and the rest at a city barracks,” she said finally.

  Elidon turned her head to speak to an attendant hovering at her elbow. “We will be relocating to the port this afternoon. Can you begin gathering my wardrobe?” She glanced at the elay prime, standing a few feet away from her, his pensive expression making Josetta believe he was thinking about some problem with an aeromotive and not about the current confrontation. “Kayle, I assume you can house the members of the royal party for a few days?”

  Kayle turned to her, his blue eyes rapidly blinking. “Well, I can, but I don’t want to. All of you? You and the princesses, maybe. And Darien, of course. But I can find you rooms somewhere else.”

  It was so typical of Kayle that Josetta had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. And she couldn’t risk a look at Zoe. Elidon seemed neither amused nor offended. “Good enough,” she said, and returned her attention to Filomara. “Would you like to stay for some refreshments before we leave?”

  Again, Filomara’s face showed both comprehension and malice. Josetta wondered if the empress had expected this little game to play out differently—if she was pleased or exasperated to find her hosts adept at maneuvering for power. Ghyaneth thought we were provincial, so she probably does, too, Josetta thought. It makes me wonder what their cities are like.

  “We will stay,” Filomara replied. “The barracks will suit after all.”

  • • •

  Dinner that night was as full of pomp and excess as the first dinner with Ghyaneth but, as far as Josetta was concerned, with two major improvements. First, she hadn’t been singled out by visiting royalty, so she didn’t have to sit next to the empress on the main dais; and second, Rafe accompanied her to the meal.

  “One more person among two hundred will hardly be noticeable, and we’ve brought him here to keep him safe, so let’s keep him safe,” Darien had said that morning as they made their preparations to move to the palace. “I don’t suppose he has anything suitable to wear.”

  He didn’t, of course, but Darien either lent him clothes from his own wardrobe or tasked one of his extremely efficient servants with outfitting Rafe for the night, because the next time Josetta saw Rafe he was very properly attired. The finely made tunic and trousers were both an unrelieved black, and the dark color added interesting contours to his face. One of the servants had also found a couple of rings to slip on his fingers and a silk ribbon he could use to tie back his hair. Josetta could not help staring when he joined her in the kierten of the palace, where they had all been assigned rooms for the next few days.

  “I think I would recognize you, if I just happened upon you like this, but you look completely different,” she told him, coming close enough to touch his shoulder through the black silk.

  ?
??In a good way or a bad way?”

  “Definitely good.”

  Corene’s assessment was even more blunt. “Oooooh, I didn’t know you could look like this!” she exclaimed. “Just like a prince, but a handsome one.”

  “Glad to know I won’t embarrass you at the dinner,” he replied.

  “For the first time,” Corene said disparagingly, and then burst into laughter.

  As Darien had predicted, there were two hundred people at the meal, and Josetta knew that Rafe was only acquainted with a handful. So she spent much of the evening identifying the major political players in Chialto for him, and following up names and titles with tidbits of gossip.

  “That’s Mirti Serlast. Darien’s aunt and the hunti prime. I need to introduce you as soon as I can . . . The woman wearing the very blue headdress? Queen Seterre. My mother. When you meet her, say something nice about the feathers . . . And that is my cousin Rhan. Nelson’s son. See him flirting with Alys? That’s why Zoe thinks he told her about the succession.”

  “Where’s her husband? That Dominic fellow?”

  “Darien won’t allow him at any function where Corene will be present.”

  “And she agreed to that?”

  “Darien had guards take him away when he tried to accompany Alys to some event recently. So she didn’t have a choice.”

  “Things are going to change if—” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  Josetta nodded. “Oh yes. One way or the other, things are going to change.”

  • • •

  So the first meal wasn’t bad and there was better news to come. It turned out Filomara had little patience for sumptuousness, as she made plain the very next morning.

  “Spare me the expensive and pointless assemblies of your rich and powerful,” the empress said to Darien as a much smaller group finished up a delicious breakfast. They were in Elidon’s quarters in the queen’s wing, a place where Josetta had spent uncountable hours watching the four queens spar and maneuver for precedence. She still hated this room. “I will take it as a given that you wish to do me honor, but I would be spared the tedium of experiencing it.”

  “You are not the only one who benefits from such events,” Darien said in a mild voice. “Invitations to attend receptions at the palace are prized among the members of our Five Families.”

  “Let them find some other form of social currency,” Filomara said.

  Darien glanced around the room, making brief eye contact with Elidon, Zoe, Mirti, Kayle, and Nelson. He didn’t bother glancing at Corene or Josetta, who had retired to a divan pushed against the east wall, or at the empress’s attendants, who had taken a rather uncomfortable set of chairs on the other side of the room. He was looking for consensus from the power brokers of his circle. “Certainly we do not want you to be either bored or overwhelmed,” Darien said. “We will drastically curtail the activities we had planned for you. As long as you are satisfied with the treatment you receive at our hands.”

  “If you speak sense and listen to mutually beneficial proposals, I assure you I will be satisfied,” the empress replied.

  “Then let us proceed.”

  Now Filomara glanced at the other Welchins at the table, and turned her head to take a long, deliberate look at the princesses. “And these are the people who make the decisions in Welce?” she asked, not bothering to hide the fact that she was unimpressed. “Now that the king is dead?”

  “Some of us were deeply involved in making decisions even while the king was alive,” Mirti said dryly. “Particularly in his last two years, when he was not well.”

  “So if there are issues you would like to raise, we are the ones you may speak with freely,” Darien said with an edge to his voice.

  When the empress spoke again, it was clear she had been counting noses. “But there are missing faces,” she said. “I understand that you have five primes and four princesses. And assorted queens. They are not all here.”

  “Of Vernon’s wives, only Elidon still keeps her hand in politics,” Darien said. So he had decided to do without Romelle as well as Alys, Josetta thought. That was interesting. Seterre had long ago given up any hope of being included in Darien’s calculations. “The fifth prime is on his way.”

  “And the missing princesses?”

  “One is not quite five and one is almost seven. I doubt you would find their counsel useful.”

  The rest of them could not look at each other, thinking about how unlikely it was Odelia would ever have much conversation to offer in an assembly like this.

  “But they are healthy, both of them, young as they are?” the empress pressed.

  At that point, Josetta noticed, Nelson narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Filomara’s face. Everyone else was too busy being annoyed to wonder what she might mean by her interrogation, but the sweela prime had caught a hint of the thoughts uppermost in her mind. And didn’t much like them. But he stayed silent and let Darien handle the conversation.

  Which he did with his usual ability to lie with ease. “They are quite healthy. Those of us who have known them from birth are amazed to realize they have grown so quickly.”

  “Children do,” Filmomara said, a dark note in her voice.

  Mirti stirred impatiently in her chair. “So then,” said the hunti prime, who could match anybody for bluntness, “are we enough for you, or do you want to wait until the table is full before you offer us your proposals?”

  Filomara nodded once, sharply, and said, “This is enough to begin with. I am looking for allies. Berringey has been making extensive trade agreements with Cozique and a few of the island nations, and there is some thought they are making pacts of aggression as well. There is no love between Malinqua and Berringey. I am looking to find my own allies that I can call on if I am suddenly pushed into war.”

  That was an honesty so rough as to be almost brutal, and Josetta knew her own face showed shock. But Darien was nodding as if he had expected her to say exactly that. “We are a small country, and while we deploy enough military might to protect our own coasts, we have never looked for war outside our borders. Apart from skirmishes with Soeche-Tas many years ago, we have been an entirely peaceful nation.”

  “I envy you the geography that has made peace a viable option,” Filomara answered. “But Malinqua has many nearer neighbors, some of them warlike, and we have a long history of conflict.”

  “I am sorry to hear it,” Darien said, “but I am not eager to share it.”

  Filomara’s mouth quirked. “You may not be eager to, but you may all the same.”

  “Please,” Darien said, his voice edged in sarcasm, “speak plainly.”

  Filomara leaned back against her chair. “I know Ghyaneth Kolavar visited here this spring. You think he wanted to talk trade, but he was assessing Welce for its assets and its strength. Is the country rich in anything Berringey would like to have, and if so, how much trouble would it be to seize the nation through war?”

  “That’s an interesting theory,” Darien said.

  “And when he left here, he traveled to Soeche-Tas, did he not? A country that is not overfond of Welce, due to a diplomatic disaster five years ago.”

  Nelson spoke up. “Congratulations on your network of spies,” he said. “You’re singularly well-informed.”

  Filomara snorted in disdain. “You have spies in my cities as well. Or if you do not, you should.”

  Darien didn’t answer that. “At any rate—” he began

  Filomara interrupted. “At any rate, I think it would not take much to rouse Soeche-Tas against you, particularly if Berringey promises aid. At which time, you would be glad to have allies like Malinqua at your back.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Kayle said, unexpectedly entering the conversation. “What would it cost us to have a treaty with you? What are you looking for?”

  “I want a blood
alliance,” she said flatly. “I want one of your princesses.”

  There was a long silence in the room. Josetta felt Corene go rigid with shock, but she didn’t think anyone else was surprised. Darien, in fact, looked perfectly relaxed, almost sprawled back in his chair.

  “And what would you do with one of our girls?” he asked softly. “You have no sons of your own to marry them off to.”

  So Filomara had been right, Josetta thought; Darien did have spies in her cities. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised.

  “No, no sons, and no daughters living, either, though I bore two,” Filomara said heavily. “But I have nephews, and brothers who are eager to see one of their sons take the throne. I would marry one of them to one of your girls.”

  “And promise her the crown?” Darien asked.

  “I have some years left before I have to yield my place,” Filomara responded. “I have not yet made final determination on my heir. But that would not make the bond between our countries any less strong.”

  “With our abundance of princesses, we have also had the luxury of wondering which one to name heir,” Darien said, which earned him sidelong glances from all of his advisors. “What if we offered a counterproposal? One of your blood relations marries one of our princesses and they take the throne in Chialto?”

  Zoe and the other primes were now openly staring at Darien, which made Josetta realize he had come up with this plan without discussing it with anyone. Corene poked her in the ribs and, when Josetta looked over, opened her hands in a gesture that meant, What is he doing? Josetta shook her head. I have no idea.

  She glanced at her uncle Nelson again. Now he was frowning in concentration as he tried to figure something out. He looked from Darien to Filomara—and over at Josetta, where his gaze lingered. Without knowing why, she felt her stomach tighten.