Summers at Castle Auburn (16 page)

“Remember—it must be poured into something she drinks, and she must drink all of it,” I cautioned. “Can your Meekie ensure this?”

Shorro nodded. “She says she can.”

“Good,” I said. I had set my basket down when I arrived. Now I opened it and laid out its contents: a stoppered pitcher and five metal cups. “Is anybody thirsty?”

Even Clem and Estis looked interested at this. “We're not allowed wine while we're on watch,” Shorro said regretfully. “Any liquor.”

I uncapped the pitcher. “It's not wine,” I said. “It's water flavored with dried raspberries. I mixed it up before I came out here. Are you allowed that?”

“Oh, yes, lady, we're allowed that,” Shorro said enthusiastically.

So I poured measures out for all of us, then took the vial back from Cloate's hands. “Half for me,” I said, and tipped some of the contents into my own cup. Smiling, I handed the other portions around and raised my own cup in a toast. We all drank quickly.

“
What
did you call this?” Shorro demanded. “Tastes wonderful!”

“Water flavored with dried raspberries. Something my grandmother taught me.”

“And there's nothing in it? No magic?”

“Nothing at all,” I replied with a smile. I handed the vial back to Cloate. “That's for you.”

He was watching me as if to make sure I didn't turn into a dragon or a wraith before his eyes. Fleetingly I wondered if he would really have the nerve to slip the dose to the young woman with whom he was smitten. But I had provided the product I had been paid to deliver; the rest was out of my hands.

“What does it taste like?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Water. She won't detect it.”

He nodded. “Well, then,” he said, and added nothing more.

“Anything else?” I asked the group at large. No one had any more questions or requests. “I'll be going, then. But I'll come back every once in a while to check on your progress. I'd like to see how this romance turns out.”

As I headed back up to the castle entrance, this time forgoing the pleasure of balancing on the edge of the fountain, I did take a moment to wonder what effect the potion might have on me. It was supposed to make you sensitive to unvoiced love, allow you to pick up on a yearning you might otherwise have overlooked. It was crafted to open your eyes. My eyes would be open, but I had started to think I had already noticed things I should have seen a long time ago; so I wasn't sure witchcraft would offer any more revelations.

 

A
T THE END
of the week, Elisandra returned. I was in the north garden when the cavalcade pulled up, but I ran toward the courtyard at the sound of the new arrivals. I was in time to see Kent help Elisandra from her coach. She seemed to lean against him a moment for support even once her feet were on the ground. Even from a distance, I thought she looked weary beyond telling, and I did not rush forward to greet her since I was sure she would have many matters to settle before she had time for me.

Instead, I hung back as the cortege entered the castle, and I slowly climbed the stairs to my own room, figuring I would wait there till she sent for me. But I was not even in our own hallway when I encountered Kent coming from the direction of Greta's suite.

“There you are!” he exclaimed. “Elisandra keeps asking for you.”

“She
does
? I thought she might want to rest—”

He shook his head impatiently and grabbed my wrist. “And no one knew where you were, and I had to admit I'd scarcely laid eyes on you the past two days—where have you been hiding yourself, by the way? I haven't seen you take a morning ride since you've gotten here. I loitered at the stables a good hour this morning, thinking you might show up.”

I'd been sleeping, but I hardly wanted to admit that. “I've been keeping busy. I thought you were, too.”

“Busier than I like,” he said, towing me down the hallway and turning the handle on Elisandra's door. “But I still have time for you.”

We entered into a scene of confusion. Greta was scolding some young girl, who defended herself in the soft accents of a west country native. This was the new maid, I supposed, and I was pleased to see that she did not seem cowed by Greta's bad-tempered demands. There were boxes everywhere, and two servants were just now lowering a large leather-bound trunk to the floor in one corner of the room. Fresh-cut flowers stood in vases all over the room, filling the air with the sweet scent of summer. Someone (Cressida, most likely) had known Elisandra was returning today.

Although she had been directing the men with the trunk, Elisandra caught sight of me and hurried over. “Corie! I'm so sorry I was gone when you arrived!” she cried, folding me into a tight embrace. I had the oddest sensation, that she clung to me a moment to catch her own balance—that she, always the most serene and levelheaded of women, had briefly needed my strength to assist her through a moment of despair. Then she lifted her head and smiled down at me. It was the same Elisandra as ever, calm, tranquil, no secrets to be read in the dark eyes.

“Look at you,” she said, as everyone seemed destined to say on this particular visit. “You've grown up so much! You look like such a lady.”

Greta broke off recriminations long enough to say, in our general direction, “But will she act any more like a lady?” Then she instantly returned to her tongue-lashing.

Elisandra ignored this interjection. “You seem taller. Are you taller? And—more filled out . . .”

I was blushing furiously. Kent was grinning. “Yes, several of the young men of the castle have already noticed her charms,” he said. “I think she'll be quite the belle at the dinner next month.”

A shadow crossed Elisandra's face, so faint that I almost thought I could have imagined it. “Oh, is that to come up so soon?” she said. “The dinner with all the viceroys attending?”

“Just a few weeks away,” he said cheerfully. “Of course, you'll be popular, too. You always are.”

She ignored this observation as well. Still looking down at me, she said, “I brought you a present from Tregonia. If, as seems impossible, we ever get everything unpacked, I'll give it to you. How was your winter? I can't believe how much you've grown.”

“The winter was hard, but spring's been good. I hate Milette,” I said. For, of course, she knew everything about my rival.

Elisandra laughed. “You'll have to feed her frog eyes and owl gizzards and whatever evil potions you can concoct to get rid of her.”

“I can't,” I said gloomily. “I don't know any of the darker magics.”

Greta swirled up to us at that point, a tiny blond cloud of impatience. “This silly girl says you left behind that lovely shawl Borgan gave you,” Greta said fretfully. “I know that can't be true. I want you to wear it to dinner tonight, so Bryan and his uncle can see how admired you are by other men—”

Elisandra faced her mother with her characteristically unruffled look. “It's true. I left the shawl behind.”

“You
what
?” I had never actually heard Greta shriek before, though I would have guessed it to be within her repertoire. “You did not! You wicked girl! What will Dirkson think, what will his son say—”

“You did not hear the words that accompanied the gift of the shawl,” Elisandra said, completely calm. “To keep it would have compromised me. So I did not keep it.”

“Compromised you! In what way would it—I'll have you know, the regent will not be pleased to hear this—”

So smoothly that I almost did not notice his movement, Kent laid his arm around Greta's shoulders and turned her from Elisandra's side. “Tell me the problem and I'll inform my father exactly what happened. I'll use great tact and guile, so he will have no reason to be angry at you or Elisandra,” he said. His arm still around her shoulder, he urged the protesting Greta toward the door. I caught the echo of her complaints and his soothing responses as they headed down the hallway.

I looked at Elisandra with my brows arching high over my eyes. “And just what did Borgan of Tregonia say to you when he gave you his lovely gift?” I asked.

She hesitated a moment, as if she would tell me, and then she shook her head as if shaking away a small, unimportant problem. “Oh—nothing, nothing, I just did not want to keep the gift, that's all,” she said. “Corie, have you met my new maid, Daria? She's from Chillain. I just love her accent.”

Daria came forward, deferential but not shy, and gave me a little curtsey. “You're Corie, then,” she said, and it
was
a lovely accent. West country, just as I had suspected. “Your sister talks about you, oh, so often.”

I smiled at her. She had the fair skin and blond hair common to Chillain, and her small bones did not hide her innate strength. Cressida had called her quiet, but she looked like a fighter to me. “You're new since the summer,” I said. “How do you like Castle Auburn?”

“So exciting!” she said. “All the lords and ladies with their grand ways and their pretty speeches. And the aliora! I never saw one before in my life. I was afraid at first, but that Cressida—she made me feel warm as my mother's daughter, first time she talked to me.”

“That's what the aliora do,” Kent said, reentering the room. “Make you feel loved.” I saw his gaze lock with Elisandra's before he had even shut the door behind him, and a flare of understanding seemed to briefly brighten the air between them. “
She's
all settled,” he added lightly. “Any other tasks I can perform for you?”

Elisandra smiled tightly. “No, just sit and talk to me while Daria and I unpack.”

“Are you sure you want us?” Kent said. “I can go away while you get settled. And I'll drag Corie out, too, if you need to be alone.”

“No, stay, both of you. Tell me what's been happening. I've missed you both so much.”

Kent draped his long body in one of her delicate chairs, and I seated myself cross-legged on the fluffy bedspread. “Well, the big summer ball is next month, as I've already reminded you,” he said. “We've received acceptances from all eight provinces—except for Chillain.”

Elisandra stood over the open trunk, pulling out wispy silken underthings and folding them into careful shapes. “Chillain,” she repeated in a neutral voice. “That's surprising.”

“That's what my father said. He still thinks Loman might send Goff as an envoy, instead of coming himself. Which is insult enough.”

“Does Bryan know?”

“Oh, yes. He laughed. He said, ‘Well, Loman's got no beautiful daughters anyway, so why would I want him to come?'”

I was surprised at this cavalier attitude, but Elisandra seemed unmoved. “That must have pleased your father greatly.”

“As you say,” Kent replied dryly. “But everyone else will be here. I imagine we'll have no end of intrigue.”

“What about your father? Is he still feeling unwell?”

“No, the fever passed a day or two after you left. He was weak for another day, and then back to his usual strength. You know my father.”

“And Tiatza?” she asked. “How is she?”

I frowned at this, for that sounded like a lowborn name. Certainly it did not belong to any court lady I knew.

“Next month, perhaps, so Giselda thinks,” Kent replied somewhat mysteriously. I had the feeling they were deliberately talking in ambiguous phrases to prevent me and Daria from understanding them.

“That's early, isn't it?”

“Giselda is expecting trouble.”

“I'm sorry to hear it,” Elisandra said. She handed a stack of folded
undergarments to Daria, who carried them to the armoire and began to store them away. “Does your father know?”

“Oh, yes. This pleases him even more than the other.”

“And Bryan?”

Kent spread his hands. “He should know. He does not act as if he cares.”

“I imagine he does not.”

Kent was watching her. Though he sprawled in the chair, appearing completely relaxed, I had the impression that he was tense, uncertain, worried about something he was reluctant to voice. I thought, for truly the first time in my life,
Why, he loves her.
He could not have made it more plain if he had stood up, crossed the room, and put the shelter of his arms around her.

“And you?” he asked softly. “Do you care?”

She came to sit beside me on the bed. Though we sat there without touching, for a moment I felt as if she wanted to lean against me, laying her head upon my shoulder. That clearly did her need for comfort come through.

“It might be easier if I did,” she said quietly. “Now, isn't that strange? You'd think just the reverse would be true.”

I reached over to take Elisandra's face between my two hands and turned her toward me. “If you have private things to discuss with Kent, Daria and I will leave the room,” I said. “If not, let me stay awhile so you can tell me about your trip to Tregonia. But I think you should take a dinner tray in your room tonight. You look exhausted and sad. And we should not be keeping you if you need a little time alone.”