The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (28 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
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Kirra felt her eyebrows rise in one of Casserah’s haughty expressions. “ ‘Shadow Ball’?” she repeated.
 
“What? Don’t you have such a thing in Danalustrous? Perhaps you don’t. Malcolm was never much of one for entertaining. At most of the Houses, whenever they’ve organized some grand event at the hall, the primary vassals plan their own big dance or dinner. There’s a reflected prestige, you know, and I think lesser lords from all over the realm often come. I know that there will be visitors from Coravann and Storian and Nocklyn—even Gisseltess, I believe—at Kell Sersees’s ball tonight. Kell and his family will be here in a couple of days, of course.”
 
It was not too hard to guess what Casserah would have thought of such a tradition of codified segregation, and Kirra allowed some of Casserah’s contempt to show. “I cannot imagine something like that ever occurring in Danalustrous,” she said.
 
“Can’t you, dear? Well, perhaps your vassals would enjoy it more than you believe. It’s all very well to think you know what’s best for everybody, but sometimes it’s easy to guess wrong.”
 
That made Casserah open her eyes even wider—how unlike Eloise!—but her hostess had flitted off to a small group of women who had just entered the room. Kirra followed in time to hear Eloise say, “Majesty! Princess! Serra! How pleased I am that you are here tonight! I hope you will enjoy yourselves.”
 
“I am certain we will,” Valri answered in a cool voice. The young queen was wearing a dress of emerald-green silk that perfectly matched her eyes; if she had a housemark, it was hidden under the high neckline.
 
“Thank you for inviting us,” Amalie added in a soft voice. Her own dress was much more subdued, a rose-tinted ivory that brought out the warmth of her strawberry-blond hair and made her brown eyes seem even darker and richer. More modestly cut than Kirra’s, her dress still dipped low enough in front to show a slight swell of adolescent bosom. The pendant she wore to cover her housemark was most cunningly designed, an oval-shaped weave of flat gold bands studded with the twelve gems of the Houses of Gillengaria.
 
“I like your necklace,” Kirra said.
 
Amalie gave her a sideways smile. “Do you? I had it made after my own design.”
 
Which was the most surprising thing she could have said. What eighteen-year-old would be thinking of politics when she was dreaming of finery? And yet, what gems appeared around the throat of the queen and her daughters was always an issue of some concern among the ladies of the Twelve Houses. No one wanted to see the colors of Brassenthwaite favored, for instance, or the ties to Merrenstow flaunted. Queen Pella had always worn a gold charm in the shape of a stylized lion, forgoing jewels altogether. Amalie, it appeared, would be a bit bolder than her mother.
 
“The princess has a most subtle elegance of mind,” Valri said. Kirra found it impossible to tell if the queen’s voice was sincere or sneering.
 
“The princess is the most welcome guest I’ve ever had,” Eloise replied.
 
A slight smile on Valri’s perfect face. “She was pleased to be invited,” the queen said. “It is time for her to become better acquainted with the realm that will be hers someday.”
 
“Not for some time, I hope,” Senneth said, speaking for the first time. Although she was taller than both the princess and the queen, Senneth was dressed so quietly and standing so still behind them that it was almost possible to forget that she was there. Or—no—Kirra realized that Senneth was using deliberate misdirection to make people overlook her. Senneth could, if she wished, actually turn invisible, but she had probably decided with some regret that she had to maintain at least a faint presence here at Amalie’s first public appearance outside of Ghosenhall.
 
Amalie gave her a warm smile. “No, not for years and
years.
”
 
Eloise laid a hand on Amalie’s arm. “Princess, may I introduce you to my friends? Everyone is most eager to meet you.”
 
Indeed, a small crowd had built up around them, not too close, but forming a pretty determined wall around their little island of conversation. Amalie would not be able to take five steps without fetching up hard against a marlord or a clutch of serramarra.
 
“Of course,” Amalie said. “I am most anxious to meet them all.”
 
Almost as soon as she spoke the words, the two royal women were surrounded by nobility. Kirra was left shoulder to shoulder with Senneth, who was scanning the crowd with her usual efficient attention.
 
Kirra wondered if she had noticed that Romar Brendyn was twenty steps away talking with what she was sure was forced politeness to Mayva Nocklyn and her husband.
 
They were silent a moment, and then Senneth softly cursed. “This is a nightmare!” she said under her breath. “There are almost forty people in this room! Justin’s outside the door but how could he even hack his way through the press of people if one of us screamed? I’m ten paces away from her and I couldn’t get to her in time if someone put a dagger through her ribs.”
 
“Who’s going to attack her in this crowd?” Kirra demanded. “In front of half the Houses? You might be right to sleep beside her at night, but I can’t think she’s in danger in such a public place.”
 
Senneth sighed. “I am not used to being responsible for anyone except myself,” she said. “I always found it pretty easy to keep myself out of danger. I’m not sure how to protect someone else.”
 
“I think you can relax here.”
 
“Tayse would say a bodyguard cannot relax anywhere.”
 
Kirra made a rude noise to indicate what she thought of Tayse. Senneth smiled and drew back a little to survey her.
 
“But don’t you look lovely!” Senneth said. “I am used to being jealous of you for your beauty, but tonight I can only be awestruck.”
 
“All Melly’s work,” Kirra said and added, “I like your dress.” It was a deep metallic brown cut on simple lines. It offered just enough décolletage to show off Senneth’s simple pendant, a gold disk wrapped in a sunburst filigree. “The color suits you.”
 
“I’ve got a lot of dark tones in my wardrobe for this trip,” Senneth said. “My way of appearing unobtrusive.”
 
Kirra grinned. “All you have to do to remain unobtrusive is not set anything on fire.”
 
“I can manage that. I think. If everyone else behaves.”
 
They talked idly for a few more moments, Senneth’s attention never straying far from the princess. It hadn’t taken long, Kirra noted, for the young men of the gathering to make their way to Amalie’s side; already, she was two deep in serramar and their cousins. Not a surprise, of course. She was the most eligible woman on the continent, and lovely besides. Kirra just hoped she was enjoying herself and not feeling overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of attention. But the expression on Amalie’s face was open and friendly. Her smile appeared to be one of genuine amusement.
 
Valri stood a few feet away, watching Amalie even more intently than Senneth.
What a strange woman,
Kirra thought.
I cannot bring myself to like her.
 
A laughing voice sounding almost in her ear had the effect of turning her attention from the queen. “
There
you are!” a woman exclaimed. “I have been wanting to meet you all night.”
 
It was Mayva Nocklyn, dressed in the height of fashion and showing a certain smugness on her round, pretty face. Beside her stood a tall, rather unpleasant-looking man wearing the Nocklyn colors. Kirra was fairly sure Casserah had never met either of them before, though Kirra was well acquainted with the flighty Mayva.
 
She gave the stiff and formal curtsey that Casserah reserved for the people she didn’t like. “I don’t think I know you,” she said.
 
“No, indeed, I think you hardly know anybody!” Mayva replied in her breathless voice. “I’m Mayva. Els Nocklyn’s daughter, you know. My father’s sick, so I go everywhere in his place. This is my husband, Lowell.”
 
Kirra curtseyed again, and Lowell responded with a polite bow, but that wasn’t good enough for Mayva. “Oh, silly, your sister and I are such good friends,” Mayva said, taking Kirra’s hands and leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “It is so nice to meet you, serra.”
 
Kirra was restraining the urgent impulse to scream as the touch of Mayva’s palm brought fire to her hand. Mayva was wearing a moonstone ring and it was searing its way right through Kirra’s flesh. Trying to disguise both her pain and her haste, Kirra pulled her hand free and hid it in the folds of her dress.
 
“Yes. Good to meet you both as well.”
 
Mayva had taken her hand with its dangerous ornament and linked it through her husband’s arm. He did not look as if he especially relished her affection. “I saw Kirra not four months ago,” Mayva continued with another of her giddy laughs. “What hair that girl has! So gold and curly! But you’re dark, like I am. I never saw two sisters who looked less alike.”
 
“We have different mothers,” Kirra replied in an unencouraging voice.
 
“And different—heritages,” Mayva said, trying to sound delicate and succeeding only in sounding arch. “It must have been very strange, growing up with a sister who could do magic.”
 
“As long as she didn’t practice it on me, I didn’t much care,” Kirra said.
 
“And now she’s not to be heir,” Mayva said. “I hope that didn’t make her too unhappy. Kirra was always the most lighthearted girl.”
 
Kirra softened toward her a little, for that was actually kind, by Mayva’s standards. Everyone else who had commented about the change in inheritance had seemed to be gloating over it. “She has taken the news very well,” Kirra said. “I will always keep a place for her at Danan Hall, of course.” She didn’t feel like spending much more time talking about Kirra, so she made a quarter turn toward Senneth, who was definitely trying to fade into the background now. With a certain sense of malice, Kirra inquired, “Are you acquainted with Senneth Brassenthwaite? She’s here in Princess Amalie’s party.”
 
Mayva almost gasped, she was so excited to come face-to-face with the returned serramarra. She dropped her husband’s arm and made a deep curtsey, babbling the whole time about how exciting it was to finally meet her. Kirra was more interested in Lowell’s reaction. His indifferent expression sharpened to one of narrowed speculation, and after he surfaced from his bow, he kept his gaze on Senneth’s face. But, of course, Kirra thought. He was the cousin of Halchon Gisseltess, who wanted nothing so much as a marriage to Senneth. He would be storing up any details of this encounter to report back to the marlord currently under house arrest for possible plans of treason.
 
They made agonizing small talk about travel and weather until the butler announced dinner. Kirra was ready to offer thanks for her deliverance to the Wild Mother and any other god who might be watching over her. More beneficence: Mayva and Lowell were nowhere near her once they had all taken their seats at the six round tables set up in the room. But neither was Senneth, which was a disappointment.
 
But neither was Romar Brendyn, which was a relief.
 
It might be possible to get through the meal after all.
 
Kirra quickly assessed her own dinner companions: marlord Rafe Storian and his wife, whose name she could not remember, and his son, also unfortunately nameless; Seth Stowfer, cousin to the marlord of Merrenstow, and his two daughters; and Darryn Rappengrass, the youngest son of Ariane Rappengrass. Even Casserah knew Rafe and his family, Storian being the nearest neighbor to Danalustrous, and Kirra gave them all Casserah’s version of a warm smile. More polite hellos to the nobles from Merrenstow.
 
It was an effort to restrain Kirra’s real delight at seeing Darryn, a charming and handsome young man with whom she had enjoyed many a flirtation on a ballroom floor. He was seated to her right, while the Storian heir was on her left; the Stowfer girls were placed on either side of the two eligible young men. Eloise had put some thought into her table arrangements.
 
Darryn turned to Kirra before the first course had even been served and said, “It will break my heart if you tell me you do not remember me, serra Casserah.”
 
Kirra’s eyebrows rose in her sister’s most common expression of uninterested surprise. “I hate to damage anyone’s heart, but you’ll have to remind me.”
 
“Two summers ago, there was a ball at Rafe’s place. We danced twice. You smiled once. I was in ecstasy.”
 
Even Casserah would have smiled at that. “Then naturally I remember.”
 
Servants came to their table and began to lay portions on the fine plates. Darryn leaned around one of them to ask, “What brings you so far out of familiar territory? You told me you hated to leave Danalustrous.”

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