I spent a fruitless afternoon searching for evidence. I figured it would most likely be in an office. I couldn't find one, not in the time the butler gave me to look. He showed up after I opened the fourth door. He gave me a frosty frown.
"May I help you?" he asked. I sensed he wasn't willing to help me in any way whatsoever.
"I was looking for the library," I lied.
"If you wish entertainment, I will be happy to fetch it for you. Just specify the items you wish me to find." His attitude made it clear I'd be waiting a very long time for anything I requested.
"I just wanted to browse," I said, trying a different tactic. He didn't fall for it.
"A catalog can be made available, if you wish."
"I guess that will do."
"I will have it forwarded to the screen in your room."
"Thank you."
I left while I could. I had no idea there was a screen in my room. I went up the stairs and looked for it. There wasn't one, unless it was mounted on the underside of my mattress. I looked everywhere else with no luck.
By then it was getting dark. I wondered if the butler would bother serving me dinner. I decided I wasn't that hungry. I dragged a chair in from the sitting room and put it in front of my window. I watched the evening roll across the desert beyond the walls.
I had nightmares when I tried to sleep. They weren't some fancy of my imagination, they were real memories. I tossed and turned until I couldn't stand it any longer. I got up and wandered my rooms and fell asleep on the couch instead.
I was up early. The couch was lumpy and uncomfortable. I dressed, wondering why I bothered, then went downstairs to see if anyone was going to show up to breakfast.
Vance was slumped in a chair in the dining room. He glanced up when I walked in. He looked haggard. The dark circles under his eyes looked like bruises.
"How is Charise?" I asked sympathetically. I didn't like Charise, but Vance apparently did, more than he'd let on.
"She'll recover." He twisted his hands together. "If she were less experienced, or if it had happened anywhere else on that stretch of trail, she'd be dead."
I felt shivers again. "It wasn't an accident."
"There were burrs under the saddle. She mentioned the horse was acting skittish. Now we know why."
"It was meant for me," I said. No one would have any reason to know I had ridden horses before. Vance's words echoed in my head. Less experienced, anywhere else.
Vance glared. "It isn't always about you. Charise is in the hospital and all you can think about is yourself?"
"You were planning on riding with me. She joined us at the last moment. That horse was meant for me to ride, wasn't it?"
"I can't believe you, Dace." He slammed his way out of the room.
I felt as if I'd been slapped. I muttered a few choice oaths.
The server stood mutely near the kitchen door, silent witness to my argument with Vance. It was easy to forget they were there, always watching and listening. They were unobtrusive, almost furniture.
I grabbed a roll from the breakfast offerings and fled into the front garden.
The brown cat was sleeping on the bench again. It jerked awake as I came close. It eyed me warily, poised to run. I sat carefully on the far end of the bench.
"Go back to sleep," I said. "I won't hurt you."
The cat blinked. It didn't go back to sleep. It yawned.
I picked at my roll. I wondered if Vance's mother would let me go if I promised not to marry Vance. I doubted it. I was convinced she was behind the murder attempt, though I couldn't prove it.
The cat sniffed the roll, stretching its neck out. I picked off a crumb. It licked it off my finger. Its tongue was rough. The cat meowed. I fed it another bite. By the time the roll was gone, the cat was right next to me, one paw on my leg. The cat curled up on the bench, right next to me, and went to sleep.
I watched the sun move across the sky. I couldn't think of a plan that would have any chance of success. I could sneak out of my room at midnight and search the house, but I suspected the butler never slept. He'd find me and send me back to my room.
A flitter lifted off at midmorning, headed to the south. I sighed and scratched the top of the cat's head. I felt like an abandoned child, left behind.
It was getting hot. The cat stretched, shaking out its hind legs. It jumped lightly down and disappeared into the bushes. I followed its example and retreated inside the house where it was cooler.
I wandered the halls, peeking into open doors. The butler didn't materialize to scold me, so I grew bolder.
The rooms were similar. They were all pale blues and greens with the occasional splash of brighter color. The furniture was expensive carved wood. The floors were carpeted or not. I didn't really care. I saw nothing that would hint at subversive activities.
I came to the back of the house and opened a door. The room was definitely green. Plants grew along a row of tinted windows. The furniture was white and delicate. I stepped inside.
And wished I hadn't. Vance's mother sat with her back to the door. She had papers and things spread out across the table in front of her. She glanced up at me.
"Zeresthina, do sit, please," she said graciously.
"I'm sorry to hear about Charise," I said as I sat on a delicate white stool. I felt like a petitioner at the Emperor's throne, only the Emperor was a lot nicer. "Vance said she was expected to recover. That's good news."
"She will recover, eventually. It will mean your wedding will have to be postponed. I was hoping to invite her to be your maid of honor."
"I would love to have her at my wedding. We haven't set a date yet, so postponing the wedding won't be any trouble."
"Considering you haven't done any planning, it will have to be another six months. At the very least."
"I didn't know where to begin. I was hoping you would help me. You've done such a lovely job decorating your home. You're an expert at such things." I smiled and hoped my lies weren't too obvious.
She wasn't buying my flattery. She gave me a pinched smile. "Of course, dear. I would love to help you plan your wedding. I was just about to send Georges to fetch you." She spread a pile of fabric squares across the table. "Now, for your tablecloths, I think the oyster would suit better than the cream." She pointed at two of the squares.
They looked the same color to me. "I do think you're right," I said.
"It will enhance the pink in the roses. Now which weave?" She fingered the fabric.
I spent five deadly dull hours with her. She spent an hour on the tablecloths alone. All the fabric was fine with me. She could have suggested black wool with rubber edging and I would have agreed. By the end of the afternoon, she had finalized her tablecloth and napkin selections. She was still uncertain about the flower arrangements and the flatware. We hadn't even started on china dishes or dresses or anything else. I gushed over her choices. I may have overdone it, but Lady Candyce pretended not to notice. In return, I pretended not to notice that she loathed the very sight of me.
I escaped to my room, to change for dinner. I picked out a long dress in creamy white. It was the first thing I grabbed. I brushed my hair out and went to dinner when the maid tapped politely on my door. I smiled and thanked her. She gave me a startled glance, quickly hidden, as she closed my door behind me.
I heard voices downstairs. I swallowed a sudden nervous lump and walked into the dining room as if I owned it.
There were at least a dozen people in the room, all young, all wearing elegant evening clothes.
Vance was in the middle of the group. His face was flushed, his eyes too bright. He smiled and gestured with a full glass of dark liquid. "And here's the bride. You're looking particularly matrimonial tonight, Zeresthina." He slurred my name. He was drunk.
I smiled politely and pretended I didn't hear the crude comments of Vance's friends. The women around him smiled and greeted me and gave me sly measuring looks.
Georges the butler announced dinner in his somber voice. He looked like he was presiding at a funeral.
"Dinner, dear," I said to Vance through gritted teeth. I took his glass from him and set it on a table. "Shall we?"
"Of course we shall." His breath was heavy with alcohol. He led me into the dining room, his friends trailing behind us.
Vance's mother wasn't at dinner. She claimed to be exhausted and dined in her room. I was envious. I should have thought of an excuse. The dinner was tedious. Vance's friends were loud. They told a lot of dirty jokes and made sly innuendoes. One of the women had a raucous laugh that grated across my nerves. I sat quietly and ate my dinner without making any comments. No one made any effort to include me as anything more than the subject of some of the worst jokes. I smiled and pretended I wasn't offended.
Dessert was finally served.
"Let's go into the gardens," one of the men suggested, leering at the woman sitting next to him. "I hear the moons are especially romantic tonight."
"You just hope to get lucky," the woman answered. "But not with me."
The others erupted in laughter.
"I can keep hoping." He got up and pulled her to her feet.
She laughed and protested, but she went. The others followed. Vance took my arm and dragged me with them. The night air was chilly. I could smell the clean desert, barely hidden under the perfume of the garden's flowers.
"I'm cold, Firth," one of the women said, giggling and batting her eyes at one of the men. He put both arms around her. She squealed loudly and pushed him away.
I walked away from the group. Vance followed me. I pretended to admire a bush of pale flowers. Vance picked one and pushed it into my hair. He grinned lopsidedly at me. The grin didn't touch his eyes. They were sad, almost apologetic.
One of his friends noticed us. He said something too low for me to catch. The rest of the group erupted in suggestive laughter. They circled us. Three of the men started singing a bawdy song, one I'd never heard in even the roughest dockside bar. It was suggestive enough to be banned there. They were laughing, their eyes cruelly mocking me as they sang.
"Enough, Garret," Vance said, pushing the ringleader away. "Play nice or I'll send you back home."
"At least he's marrying her," one of the women said. "You have to honor him for that."
One of the men said something very crude about me. If I hadn't been pretending to be polite, I would have broken both his arms and punched out his teeth. Vance squeezed my arm.
"Show some respect," he said.
"We're just teasing," the man said. But they backed down after that.
"Who's up for a game in the garden maze?" one of the women said, a challenge in her voice.
They shouted and chased each other down the slight slope and into a section of the garden I hadn't explored. I stayed where I was. Vance kept hold of my arm. They disappeared into an area planted with tall hedges. There were bursts of laughter and squeals.
"Sorry about that," Vance said to me after they were all out of sight. "They're just testing you. And teasing me."
"It's all right," I told him. Inside I was wondering just how long I was expected to put up with them and how long before I gave in to the urge to beat them into respecting me.
"They really aren't that bad. They're worried about Charise."
"They have a strange way of showing it." I heard a loud series of squeals from the hedges. I wondered if I'd ever been that young or that immature. I'd never had the chance.
"It's just their way of dealing with stress."
"You don't have to make excuses for them." I turned to face him.
The moonlight painted his face with strange shadows. I didn't know him. The man standing in front of me was a stranger tonight. I searched his face for any hint of the man I'd known on Serrimonia.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know you anymore," I confessed.
He brushed his finger along my cheek. "You know me better than you think."
"Am I interrupting?" one of the men asked as he staggered out of the bushes.
Vance dropped his hand and turned away. "Not at all."
"Good, because we finally caught that cat. The one Havila claimed clawed up her dress last spring? We're going to drown it in the pond."
I heard the cat, meowing loudly. I reacted before I could think better of it. I hiked up my skirts and ran down the hill towards the pitiful sound. It was almost drowned out by squealing and laughter. I charged into the open.
They were standing at the edge of a decorative pond. One of them held the brown cat out at arm's length. The cat dangled by the nape of its neck. It yowled and tried to scratch and bite.
"Put the cat down," I shouted.
"I'm planning on it," Garret answered. "Right into the pond."
I glared into his face. He was a full head taller than me. It didn't matter.
"Give the cat to me," I ordered.
"You have a soft spot for this fleabitten stray?" He shook the cat.
It was struggling less now, panting heavily. It gave a pitiful squeak.
I brought my knee up into Garret's groin. My fist caught him on the side of his head. He staggered back, arms flailing. He let the cat go. It flew across the grass to land near the bushes. Garret went backwards into the pond with a loud splash. I ignored the outraged gasps from the others.
The cat was lying limply on the grass. I hurried over to it and knelt down. I stroked the mangy fur. It shuddered once. Its eyes blinked open. Its claws streaked out, leaving bleeding gashes down my arm. It darted into the bushes. I hoped it wasn't running away to die somewhere.
"Well, I think you've made quite an impression," Vance said behind me. There was amusement in his voice. He held his hand out to me.
I took it and let him pull me to my feet. He didn't let go. He held my arm up into the moonlight.
"Ungrateful beast, wasn't it?" he observed as he twisted my arm to see the scratches better.
"It was scared, that's all. And I've had worse." I tried to pull my arm back.
"I know you've had worse, but those still need attention."
The group migrated over to me while we talked. Garret was left to climb out of the pond on his own. They were staring at me. I suddenly felt stupid.
"I have a soft spot for cats," I said.
"Obviously," one of the women said, but it was said nicely.
"And a wicked left hook," one of the men said. "Garret's going to be walking sideways for quite some time."
"Not because of her fist," someone else said.
They all laughed. I was escorted inside where Vance played medic and cleaned the scratches on my arm. Garret joined us, dripping weeds and water. There were no hard feelings. At least none on the surface.
Someone suggested cards. I made my excuses and left while I could.