Category: watercolors

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73-Belle of the Party

 

Khattmali was the perfect hostess. She put her arm through mine and led me from group to group, presenting me as only a socialite could. People who had never spoken two words to me out in the halls were now all smiles and bows. As if they hadn’t been painting me with disdain whenever they glimpsed me for the past few months.

Courtly parties had been just another pleasant memory of my pre-siege childhood. Now, facing a roomful of beautiful vipers, I felt that I must have always hated court life. Hated it. Perfectly and completely.

“How do you do, Miss Meredithe?”

“So pleased to meet you, Miss Meredithe.”

“Enchanted, Miss Meredithe.”

I smiled, blushed, and curtsied with just a touch of unpolished bounce. I also invented new curse words in my head. There were more men than women at this party. Most of them thirty or younger, though there were a few older. When Khattmali ran out of people, I realized that I hadn’t retained a single name, and had glazed over most of the faces, too. I started angling for the wing chairs near the fire, but Khattmali steered me toward the couch instead.

I accepted a tea cup from a passing servant and settled onto the couch, Khattmali beside me.

She lifted a jeweled hand, “Bel, darling, come sit with us!”

A good looking young man in a fine white shirt under a navy doublet redirected his path to sit in the chair across from us. He smiled, the expression brightening his face so much that I thought it might be a real smile. “My name is Lord Belledi Valredes,” he bowed slightly to me as he sat, his eyes sparkling in a way that made me think we’d just been introduced but he’d seen the utterly blank look in my face.

Valredes…one of the older families to survive the fall. “Analie Meredithe,” I said, narrowly keeping myself from offering him my hand like a princess. I made an effort to mark his features: High cheek bones, brown eyes. Short brown hair. Broad shoulders that hinted at active pass times. His coat had the faint shimmer of silk, and a gold brooch in the shape of a leaping fish sat over his heart.

He kissed my fingers and sat back in the chair. “How have you found the palace, Miss Meredithe?”

“It’s lovely,” I said. “Just…really beautiful.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t met before now, for surely the palace is made even more beautiful by your presence.”

I looked down demurely to keep from rolling my eyes.

“Bel, you charmer,” said Khattmali with a light laugh. “Oh, Lucius, come here!” she beckoned to another young man even as she stood up. “Keep Miss Meredithe company for me, I must greet the other guests.”

I thought it was a thin excuse, even if new people had just entered the chambers. How many people had she invited to this luncheon?

Lucius had blonde hair, and he smiled as he kissed Khattmali’s hand before taking her place next to me on the couch. “Miss Meredithe,” he flashed the same smile at me. “Lord Lucian Tene. I hope you won’t be too bothered by our company.” His doublet was a pale blue that intensified the blondeness of his hair and the blueness of his eyes.

“Oh, not at all!” I said quickly, wrapping my hands around my tea cup as I watched Khattmali disappear into the crowd. It was happy coincidence, that an irritated and sulking princess could so easily pass for a shy and overwhelmed common girl.

“The Ambassador told me your father is a spice merchant,” said Lucius, “She failed to mention that you were stunning, though.”

I blushed. “You’re too kind.” And I could easily take you in a fight.

“I heard that your family was rescued by the King’s men after being robbed on the road,” added Bel, leaning his elbows on his knees and taking a sip of his wine. “That must have been terrifying. I’m so sorry you had to experience that.”

“Yes, it was awful—I’m so grateful to the men who rescued us, I can’t even imagine what would have happened if they had not come along.” I kept my eyes wide and earnest.

“Bel,” Lucius interjected, “This is a party, don’t remind the lady of such things.”

“My apologies,” Bel dipped his head, apologetic.

“It’s alright,” I assured him. “Much good came out of it.” I flicked my lashes down. Love makes you stupid. I tried to imagine being in love, but instead thought of throwing a pillow at Tarr’s head. My neck heated, which worked well enough.

“Have you ever been to a party like this before?” Lucius asked.

“Yes—well,” I hemmed, “I’ve been to large parties—just not with so many lords and ladies, of course. And not in the palace.”

“The Ambassador means well,” said Bel, kindly. “Though I fear a party of this size might not have been the kindest way to introduce you to people.”

I titled my head, uncertain what to make of even the gentlest criticism of Khattmali. Also, uncertain if he actually believed she meant well.

“Though, we’re certainly glad to meet you at long last,” said Lucius, leaning back and lifting a hand to wave over a servant carrying a decanter. “The palace is much improved by your presence. And I believe your brother is here, also?”

I didn’t want to talk about my family. “He is, yes. But he’s often out working the family business. It pleases the King for him to continue on restoring trade.” In the economy your High Queen shattered. I looked at Bel, “Lord Valredes…your family owns half the fishing boats, doesn’t it?”

“We do, yes,” he nodded, “Please call me Bel, Lord Valredes is my father.”

“Bel,” I smiled at him. I almost asked how they were affected by the purging of the nymphs but thought better of it just in time. I also almost asked how in Serrifis he’d managed to keep his parents through the fall, but I knew the answer to that already thanks to Quill and Tarr preparing me for this luncheon. Some hadn’t been given a choice to bow to the new Queen; Yet others had, and most took it after watching the executions and rituals.

Bel continued, “Lucius’s family owns hundreds of acres along the Market Road.”

“It’s a spectacular amount of work, but has some excellent soil and beautiful views,” said Lucius.

“Sounds wonderful,” I took a sip from my tea.

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72- Armor

I was delirious with exhaustion by the time Namal and I made it back to the palace. It was a long walk to start with, but add in avoiding patrols and making certain we weren’t followed and it became a lengthy, predawn walking tour of the city. One of the royal guard, one we’d traveled with from Gillenwater, was waiting to bring us back through the tunnels to our chambers. Once I’d shucked that blasted armor I found Quill waiting in the sitting room to hear how our little meeting had gone. I told him everything and felt better for it. The sky was turning gray when I finally crawled into bed—after checking on the king who slept on the couch.

The sun woke me up hours later. I stared at the huge arching windows, feeling as if all the sand in Daisen were in my eyes and piled on my body, making it far too heavy to move. I had gotten used to sleeping at night. I liked sleeping at night.

The winter light was bright and cold, and I felt it wasn’t high enough in the sky for me to be awake yet. This wasn’t a fair exchange of hours. Perhaps I could close my eyes again and convince the bone crushing weariness to leave. Something moved in my peripheral, I turned my head to see Hesperide laying out a deep burgundy gown. With a groan, I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow.

“Good morning, my little owl,” I could hear the smile in Hesperide’s voice.

I lifted my head enough to squint at her. “Is it good?”

“It is good that it’s still morning, because you have that luncheon today.”

Right. I rolled onto my back and starred at the gilded ceiling.  Khattmali hadn’t wasted any time pulling together a little lunch party to introduce Analie to people. Everyone was unhappy about me mingling with the nobility, but short of faking illness I didn’t know how to get out of it. I had been a small child the last time I’d been to Dalyn, it seemed highly unlikely that anyone would recognize me. The Midwinter Ball was mere weeks away and I was certain Khattmali wanted me out of the King’s bed by then. Did a second visit make poison more or less likely? What hideous thing would she tell me about Tarr today? I rubbed my hands across my eyes and tried to reconcile myself to being up. “Next time I’m impersonating someone of higher rank, so I can say no to more people.”

Hesperide snorted. “The King is out already, and your bath is ready for you,” she headed back into the closet and returned with a couple pairs of slippers, which she then set next to the gown and eyed critically. “You should probably get started on that.”

A bath made getting up more tolerable. Mostly because it bore so many similarities to staying bed with the added perk of being in water. Hesperide yelled through the washroom door at least twice to hurry me along. Finally, I presented myself to her, clean, dry, and un-striped, and she helped me get into the gown. It was a different look than the others, the long skirt a separate piece from the fitted brocade bodice that buttoned down the front. The embroidery of the brocade had a metallic blue sheen that caught the light. A collar swooped down into a flattering point that showed off the gold necklace which hung around my neck. Another gift from the king. I touched the pendant—a gold disc imprinted with ships traveling in the gilded circle of trade. He’d tried to give me a sapphire surrounded by a river of gold, but I’d argued that giving a mistress jewelry that mimicked his seal did, perhaps, send too strong a message. I found Hesperide’s eyes in the mirror.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I feel like this is really yours,” I tapped the necklace before letting my hands drop into my lap.

“Ah,” she was braiding my hair, but she freed a hand to reach forward and tap my heart. “This is what’s mine of his. You, and that,” she looked at the reflection of the pendant, “Are armor to protect us. They are all armor.”

I started to nod, but couldn’t with her grip on my hair. I tried a grim smile instead.

“Be careful with Khattmali today,” Hesperide returned to braiding. “She got Tarr drunk last night after dinner, but he didn’t even try to kiss her. In her ideal world, she’d drive him so mad with desire that he’ll think her proposition of marriage is wonderful—or, even better, he’ll come up with the idea himself.”

“I know, I know…I’m in the way.”

Hesperide nodded, “After so many failures in recent months, I suspect the ambassador is eager to have a success to show her mistress when she arrives for the ball.  It’s becoming an urgent need.” Finished with the braid she began to coil it on my head, pinning as she went.

It seemed a little unfair to have to deal with intrigue of this nature without any of the intoxicating feelings of being in love to give it dazzle. Then again, it had to be a miserable situation for the people in love, so I shouldn’t feel too left out. There was a distant look in Hesperide’s eyes and I wondered if she was thinking of a version of her life where she didn’t need decoy lovers to protect her life and the lives of her children. “How do you know all these things, anyway?” I asked.

“I’m a servant,” Hess scoffed, “Servants know everything.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten.”

“If you want to know what’s happening in a palace, befriend the cooks, or the washer women.” Hesperide stepped to the front and eyed my hair. She pursed her lips, plucked at a curl, then nodded to herself.

“Not the maidservants?” I asked.

“No,” Hesperide shook her head, turning to collect the remaining pins, “Too much politics there.”

I grunted. “I’ll steer clear, then.”

“Wise.” She smiled at me as she left the room, “Jemin will be here soon to take you to the ambassador’s chambers.”

I thanked her and moved to the sitting room to pick up a book. There was a tray with tea, muffins, and a few pieces of fruit sitting by the fire and I happily dug into them with one hand—the other held the book. I was very hungry and hadn’t realized it. As I ate, I felt sleepiness returning to remind me that I’d been out most of the night.

When Jemin entered the sitting room, I jolted awake, book tumbling to the floor.

The burly royal guard was smiling. “Good morning, my lady.” He bowed slightly. “Are you ready to go?”

I straightened from being curled up in the wing chair and made a few faces, as if stretching and scrunching my face would wake it up more quickly. Blinking, I stood, and said primly, “Of course.” Then my lips quirked up in a dubious half smile, which Jemin rewarded with a matching one. Ready or not, it was time to go. There wasn’t anything either of us could do about it.

“Should you drink another cup of tea before we go?” asked Jemin, kindly.

I shrugged. “The ambassador has tea.” But I did pick up my cup and finish the last sip, now cold.

Jemin held the door open and then guided me to the ambassador’s chambers. The ambassador’s guards opened the door for me, and the sound of music and voices greeted me. The ambassador’s opulent chambers were even more spectacular today. Had she brought in more chandeliers? The crystal chandeliers cast splintered gold light and occasional rainbows everywhere through the main room. The windows were open, making up for the monstrous fire in the fireplace and the heat from the thirty men and women milling about in beautiful clothes. A few tables sat about, laden with meats, breads and fruits, and gray-clad servants bustled here and there carrying tea pots and decanters to ensure that no one saw the bottom of their cups. Four musicians sat in a corner playing stringed instruments.

Khattmali was in the center of it all, resplendent in a blue gown with a neckline that swooped deeply from one shoulder to the other, showing off both her skin and the layers of sparkling jewelry. She saw me immediately and came to greet me with a sweet smile on her face. As if greeting a favorite pet. “Analie! Darling! I’m so glad you’re here. I have so many people I want you to meet.”

Dear heaven.

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70-After Tea

 

In the safety of the King’s chambers, I stormed. I wanted to change clothes and go find the hounds, or do anything active…but the shimmering blue gown laced up the back. I couldn’t get out of the dress without help. I didn’t want to call for Hesperide because I didn’t know if she knew about Tarr’s fourteen children, and I knew I would probably blurt it out the moment I saw her.

In frustration, I fetched out my daggers.  Fine gown or no, I started to practice with them right in the middle of the bedroom. Finding solace in the motions Remko had taught me so long ago, and distraction in the newer techniques that Quill and Vaudrin had taught us. I moved slowly at first. It felt good to move. To bend. I spun slowly, striking and slashing imaginary enemies, and trying out crouches and low kicks in my fine slippers. Frustration released with every blow. The dress limited my motion, but I kept working, moving faster was my confidence grew, as I let myself disappear in a flurry of emotion. Sweat slicked my skin under the dress, and I was vaguely aware of my curls whipping free of their restraints.

I almost didn’t hear the door to the chambers open. It registered a second later and I stopped mid-motion. Straightening, I flipped Azzad casually in my hand, trying to decide if I should put the knives away on the off chance it wasn’t someone I knew in the outer chamber.

Quill appeared in the doorway on his way through his usual circuit of the rooms. He paused, his eyes swept over me, taking in the sweat on my brow, the tumble of my hair, and the knives. I met his gaze, blowing a strand of hair out of my face.

He leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms across his muscular chest. “How was tea?”

“I drank too much.”

Amusement flickered across his face. “Was it just tea?”

I sheathed my knives and marched to slide them under the pillows of the bed. “As far as I know. I’m not dead yet.”

“How’s your side?”

I inhaled deeply. At the moment I was still warm, even panting a little from my exercise. “Fine.”

“Don’t overdo it,” he straightened and turned back toward the sitting room.

“Is the King with you?” I asked.

He glanced back at me. “He’s just here for a change of clothes.”

Tarr came into view, dressed in riding clothes. His boots were dirty and he smelled faintly of the stables. Quill stepped aside to let Tarr through the doorway. The King smiled when he saw me. “How was tea?” he asked.

“Fine.” I crossed my arms.

Quill leaned toward Tarr, “Don’t believe her.”

Tarr grunted, “Of course not,” and continued past me into his closet. He would be ringing for Hesperide. The thought made me so angry I followed him in. Tarr was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, he looked up at me, surprised. “Yes?”

“Fourteen children!” I snapped.

“Excuse me?” His brows quirked in confusion.

“You have fourteen children?” I repeated, stopping just inside the closet and lifting my chin.

“I have,” Tarr hesitated, processing, then he threw back his head and laughed. “Fourteen? By Fornern, the number just keeps getting bigger.”

“How is this funny?” I seethed. “You’re irresponsible! It’s demeaning and vulgar and rude! And what about Hess? She loves you.”

Tarr kept laughing.

When several seconds passed, I began to fear that I would throw something at him. Then I began to think throwing something would be a good idea.

Tarr tried to speak, but every time he looked at me he started howling again. Stepping back, I grabbed a pillow from the bed, glared at Quill, who was still in the bedroom doorway, and came back to hurl the pillow at Tarr’s face. I wished it was something heavier as it pegged him. He laughed harder, but covered his head with his arms as he struggled to regain control.

I had no idea what to do, his reaction was so unexpected. Laughter tugged at me, coaxing me to come dance with it, but I absolutely would not allow it. I crossed my arms and waited, frowning.

Finally, Tarr regained control of himself, barely, and said, “I have three children. Though I support seven.”  His blue eyes were still rich with mirth. “As soon as word gets around that you’ll take care of your offspring, they start materializing in places you’ve never been.” He picked up the pillow and lightly hefted it back to me.

“Three?” I asked, weakly, catching the pillow.

“Rumors credit me for ten, last I heard. But fourteen.” He laughed again, “That’s a new number. I wonder if Khattmali made it up just to frighten you or the rumor has grown.” Tarr resumed unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s really just Hess’s two, and I have a daughter who lives at Sinensis. She’s three years old, and doesn’t belong to Hess.”

“But…” I was trying to readjust my picture. Jemin had told me of the King’s reputation, but I’d somehow replaced it with a completely different perception—hard to imagine my nursemaid as a philanderer—and now I was trying to reconcile the two images. The truth was somewhere in the middle. “What about Hesperide?”

Tarr stopped, his shirt hanging loose now, and turned to look at me. As if finally realizing how serious I was. He pursed his lips, weighing, then stepping forward he took the pillow out of my hands. “Zare, you might not believe me when I say that Hestria,” here he looked over my shoulder at Quill, “is my heart and soul. Nothing terrifies me more than the thought of losing her the way I lost everyone else. If Narya knew I loved her–knew who she really was…” Tarr trailed off and looked away. His jaw worked. Silence stretched between us for a long, thick moment, then he continued, “So I hide her among many others and hope no one will learn the truth. Though I would be lying if I said I have not enjoyed the other women I’ve been with.”

Hestria? I took the pillow back and shook it at him, “I don’t regret throwing this.” But there was no venom in my words.

He inclined his head as I turned and walked out of the closet. Quill was still by the door, watching the whole exchange with his arms crossed. I tossed the pillow back onto the bed. “Weren’t you going to save him?”

“Only if you’d grabbed your knives instead of the pillow,” he replied, a smile in his eyes.

I moved to the couch and sat down, then fixed him with a look. “Hestria?”

“You’re not the only one with secrets.” Quill walked to one of the chairs perched on the arm, again crossing his arms over his chest and looking incredibly comfortable.

“Is she your sister?” I’d seen the way Tarr looked to him.

Quill shook his head, his expression said he’d been expecting the question. “First cousin.”

“Ahhh.” That certainly explained a number of things about Hess’s humor and manner. We were quiet another moment while I re-processed tea with Khattmali. “Dear heaven,” I breathed, “She’s a witch.”

Tarr emerged from the closet, half dressed in a fine shirt and pants, instead of half un-dressed in his riding clothes. A black coat hung over his arm as he buttoned his clean white shirt. “I haven’t got a lot of time, but are you going to tell me about tea?” he asked.

I drew a deep breath and explained, “The ambassador was very chummy, wants to throw a little soiree so Analie can meet people. Warned me about your…reputation…assured me you would be bored soon because you’re a cad who somehow had fourteen children in only six years—and resolved to help me find a way to stay—rich? At court? Like this.” I waved a hand at my dress and jewels. “She was very persuasive.”

Tarr paused beside Quill and put on his jacket. “Impressive for one little tea. What did Analie do?”

“She was mostly quiet and didn’t say no to much,” a wry smile tweaked my lips. “She’s obviously not sure what to think anymore, though she’s devoted to you. I think my eyes dried out from being wide with innocence so long.”

Quill coughed out a laugh.

“Well,” Tarr winked, “Her loyalty is admirable. Even if yours was a bit more fragile”

I rolled my eyes. “I only threw a pillow, you should feel quite loved.”

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69-TEA WITH A FRIEND

A full week went by before I found myself seated on a plush chair in Khattmali’s suite, sipping tea which I could only hope wasn’t poisoned. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of poison until the moment she was handing me a gilded tea cup, but now it was the only thing I could think about.

I’d spent the last week going on walks with Naran and his hounds, and was just starting to feel like maybe I could really start moving again. Namal had said it was about time to take me out to my men who were hidden in the city. He even mentioned something about a side trip to meet Ayglos somewhere…The last thing I wanted was to be laid low by poison. Though, I supposed poison generally killed you outright. No need to worry about being an invalid. Especially since, though Jemin had walked me here, there were no servants or guards in the room with us. No chance of an antidote. I took another tip of the tea. It tasted normal, so if it were poisoned she’d done an excellent job. I’d expect nothing less.

“You must be simply starving for female conversation,” said Khattmali, taking a ladylike drink of her tea. So, the pot wasn’t poisoned, anyway. She was dressed in an exquisite emerald day dress and jeweled necklaces. The embroidery which trailed along the sleeves and dripped down her neckline glinted with a metallic sheen. “The King keeps you all to himself all the time.”

“Oh,” I smiled over my steaming cup. Maybe there was poison on the inside of the cup only. Activated by the heat from the tea. Did poison need to be activated? “I’ve been alright. I wouldn’t know what to say to the ladies at court.” I gave a shy little laugh. If my experiences in the hallways were any indication, no one would talk to me anyway.

Khattmali smiled, the rings on her fingers glittered as she set down her cup. “Nonsense, I’m sure you’ve got all sorts of interesting things to say.”

“Haim is the best place to buy paprika,” I said with what I hoped was an adorable arch of my shoulders. I didn’t feel poisoned. No shakes, pain, or light headedness. Poison usually had symptoms like that, right?

“There you are, very useful,” Khattmali was quick to praise. “Though, with comments like that I can see why men take to you so readily.”

My curious look was not feigned.

“Let me teach you how to talk with women,” she leaned close, her dark eyes squinting conspiratorially. “Women love news,” she whispered.

I made myself lean forward, eyes wide with innocence. “News?”

“Yes—and I don’t mean the latest price of cinnamon,” Khattmali thought of her loophole the same moment I did. “I mean what the families are doing; who is joining the army, courting a wife, going into this or that business, planning a trip, planning a party…” she trailed off suggestively.

“Ohhh,” I dragged the word out. “I’m afraid I don’t have any news like that. I don’t know anyone at court.” It was mostly true. I’d learned some in the weeks we’d been here, but before that Dalyn’s nobles hadn’t mattered to me. They still didn’t matter to me because everyone had agreed it was far too dangerous for the Galhirim to try mixing with them.

“Sure you do, you know the king.”

My cheeks heated. At least they could be relied upon. “He’s very kind,” I said, ducking my head.

Out of the corner of my eye, Khattmali’s eyes rolled before she could stop them. She was quick to smother the look with a beautiful smile. Kind was certainly one way of putting it.

“He’s quite charming,” said Khattmali, her tone implying that she had intimate knowledge of his charms. She picked up her cup again.

My eyes flew to her face, my lips parted in surprise. Innocent, but not totally stupid.

Khattmali shifted delicately, “Analie, my dear, where are you hoping this relationship will go?”

“Relationship? With…the king?”

“Yes, dear, the king.” Amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I’m well aware that the servants fetched you from his chambers.”

“Oh,” I took a sip of tea. Hiding beneath my lashes demurely. If I died of poisoned tea, I would die firmly in character.

“Many of us have been in your position, you know.”

I didn’t look up.

“The king is…” Khattmali hesitated, “known for being very forward with women.”

She was going to play the kind friend straight to the core. Alright. I reached forward and poured myself some more tea.

“It’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, you know. He is very charming. And how could you know?”

How could I know? I was a peasant. What on earth would possess me to think this would end with me queen? Love makes you stupid. Hesperides’ words from this morning came back to me. When the summons from Khattmali came and I gave Hesperide what must have been a completely desperate look. The King’s actual mistress then gave the King’s pretend mistress a quick course on human emotion while she fixed my hair. I had become convinced as she talked that I had never been in love. Balleck was probably as close as I had gotten, but not even then.

“You seem like such a kind girl, Analie, I just don’t want you to be hurt when he moves on.” Khattmali sipped her tea, then set her cup down on the golden tray between us. Her kohl lined eyes met mine, earnest. “And he will move on, my dear.” Her voice dropped, “He has fourteen children to prove it.”

I choked on my tea.

I thought I saw satisfaction flit through Khattmali’s eyes, though her face remained compassionate. “I didn’t think you’d know,” she said sadly.

I looked down, allowing confusion and pain to show on my face while I tamped down indignation. The man had only been king for six years, how did he have fourteen children? What about loving Hesperide? Love makes you stupid. “He…said he loves me,” I whispered, infusing the words with just a breath of defiance.

“I’m sure he did, dear,” said Khattmali. She reached for the tea pot and refilled her cup. Knowing laced her every movement. “If you like, I can ask him to start bringing you to some of the court functions. That way, you can meet people.”

What? I set my cup down and sniffed loudly as Khattmali refilled it also.

“You can make some friends, have some fun.” She winked, “Maybe not have to give up this life when he gets bored.” Her eyes skimmed over my body and I instinctively put a hand to the jewels at my throat, to the shimmering blue dress Hesperide had picked for me.

“Alright,” my voice was small, squelched with emotion. I was going to kill Tar when I saw him next.

“If nothing else, he simply must let you come to the Midwinter Ball.”

I looked up.

“Everyone who is anyone will be there, especially because the High Queen is coming.”

My heart stammered. Narya Magnifique. Here.

Khattmali continued, “Though, I feel we should get you out in society a little beforehand. Your beauty should not be sequestered any longer than necessary. I will hold a soiree and invite you specifically.” She smiled, and I managed a tentative smile in response. “Yes, that will be perfect. A small gathering, so as not to overwhelm you.”

“Alright,” I agreed, not seeing another answer. There really wasn’t a world where court connections wouldn’t be a good thing for a merchant. Even if Analie was still devoted to the King. I took another drink of tea. If it was poisoned, I was definitely doomed.

Khattmali kept talking about ideas for her soiree, and I did my best to listen and smile.  A simple girl awed by favor. I was relieved when a servant appeared to announce Khattmali’s next appointment. Not only was I sick of this conversation, but I’d gone through so much tea I was in dire need of the washroom.

 

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