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“For three hundred plat,” Carolle repeated, fanning herself evenly as they strolled. What would a noble believe worthy of such a payment?
“I won’t palter; there are risks,” Gaines finally said. “Lord Rodinger Bernard of the Tenth Ring of the High Houses. Intrigue him. Enter his confidence.”
Her fan stilled. “And? That can’t be all.”
Glancing about again, Gaines whispered, “And . . . let’s start there. Earn his trust. Prove yourself capable, and we’ll discuss it further.”
Carolle tugged on the crook of Gaines’s arm and guided him away from a gaggle of approaching courtiers. Next to a grand fountain of seven bears with copper salmon in their maws, she released him. Shielded by the loud streams from the fish, she asked, “You want a spy? Someone to tell you he buys affection on Drell Street and cries himself to sleep in a bottle?”
Gaines’s sage-green eyes lit up in amusement. “The grumpy codger holds his secrets, secrets that may bring harm to Racine. Get his defenses down. Further details will come.” To Carolle’s doubt, he said, “If it wasn’t obvious, I’m buying your trust here.”
Another pompous nobleman called out to him. Gaines waved halfheartedly and made sure the man didn’t intend to interrupt them. “As I said, there are risks. Use caution. A High House lord of the Tenth Ring can have it appear anyone below the throne has absconded of their own merit, never to be heard from again.”
Sobered by his vagueness, Carolle asked, “If it’s dangerous, why not hire a mercenary? Not a dancer to dine by his side.”
“You are new, less of a threat,” Gaines answered, “and allowed lenience for uncouth behavior as the circumstance demands.”
She set her jaw, though she understood his meaning.
“Besides, you have, well, a certain uniqueness that qualifies you to be the opening we’ve been waiting for.” He pretended to button his lip. “You’ll see what I mean.”
“‘We’?” So he did this to benefit more than himself and that foolish Chester, assuming Lucille’s suitor had a mind capable of intrigue. “How many nobles need Lord Bernard’s secrets?”
Gaines didn’t elaborate. “Are you capable of completing this task?”
“I’m capable of trying.”
The noble wrinkled his nose and raised it at her. “I shall ask again. Are you capable of completing this task?”
For all she cared, the nobles could assassinate each other, provided she had her coin and no blood on her hands. Gaines’s ambiguous risks nagged her, but she would do this for more than herself. “Yes, for definite. For three hundred plat.”
“Good. That’s the crotchety ogre there, next to Ameera.”
Under the pavilion’s glowing canopy, Queen Ameera beamed at the heavyset high lord and tapped her closed fan against his arm, a sign of great affection.
“I know,” Carolle said. Her pulse quickened, sensing where this was leading. She had already offended the high lord. Now she needed to restore favor and appease a queen. “He introduced himself earlier.”
Elated by the news, or perhaps impressed, Gaines beamed. “Marvelous.” He grabbed Carolle’s hand, put it around his forearm, and pulled her along. “Fortuitous moments are fleeting.”
Five steps forward, Carolle put herself on stage again. Fanning herself with an easy rhythm, she let Gaines lead her down the carpet between the circling dancers to the queen’s pavilion.
Two guards stood vigil at the stairs. Both mirokar appeared human aside from the four brown twisting horns protruding from their helmets. Nobles often hired mirokar as soldiers but only if their inhuman features showed through their armor. Carolle knew better than to be intimidated, however, having played with several as a child. She felt sorry for them, being put on display to further the fear humans felt in their presence. But then, what else should she expect from bloody nobles?
Elegantly poised, Carolle adopted Braith’s humble smile and delicately neared the queen’s conversation. Gaines mirrored her confidence better than her humility. The spell’s light worked wonders for his face, making him beguilingly pretty enough to speed Carolle’s pulse.
“Your Majesty,” Gaines said, “it’s my pleasure to introduce—”
Queen Ameera thinned her lips at Gaines’s unlaced jerkin and rolled sleeves but then smiled brightly for Carolle. “Lady Carolle Ysbryd,” the queen said, “as you shall be known in Racine henceforth.” Ten years easily separated Carolle and the woman with brown plaits woven through her silver crown. Pearls and opals adorned the blue silk of the queen’s gown in intricate diamond patterns. “Our elegantly tormented Elysant. Have you met High Lord Rodinger Bernard of the Tenth Ring?”
Lord Bernard whipped off his hat and put it over his heart to bow this time. “I have had the honor,” he said.
Carolle gracefully curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Lord Bernard, an honor again indeed.”
The queen twiddled two of her gloved fingers in the air, prompting a powder-wigged servant to present her with a black lacquered box. “There is no need to state the honor, my dears. This shall more than suffice.” Opening the lid, she tipped the box and reached in. A silver drop pendant dangled from the chain in her fingers. “I bestow to you, Carolle Ysbryd, the dragon’s ear.”
The tear-shaped pendant lit on Carolle’s palm. Queen Ameera wound the dainty chain around it. “Present this to the guardians of the dragon’s den in the Temple District to gain an audience with Harishnu, Trône d’Argent’s water dragon. In exchange for the droplet, Harishnu offers advice on matters of great personal import. If conflict stirs your soul and you feel compelled to visit him, may his words move you as your eximious performance has moved us.”
Stunned by both the gift and the thought of meeting a dragon, Carolle curtsied again without taking her eyes from the silver.
“As there are no other gentlemen about to assist Lady Ysbryd,” the queen said over Gaines’s head, “Rodinger, would you mind?”
Gaines quit fiddling with the lace of his left sleeve to allow Lord Bernard to pass.
Carolle raised her locks off her neck. The cold metal pendant sent chills through her when it touched her skin. With the clasp closed, Lord Bernard let Gaines resume his ignored position.
Pleased, the queen said, “I have awarded the same to your Lady Davies and Lord Gallivan. I do advise you to visit separately. Harishnu has a tendency to be forthright in an unfortunate capacity.”
Lord Bernard grumbled, “Regrettably, never in matters of state.”
Carolle realized they were waiting for her response. “My generosity shall always pale in comparison to yours, Your Majesty.” She received a nod of approval. With an earnest grin, Carolle said, “I meant to say earlier, that is a lovely shade of yellow, Lord Bernard.” At least his sleeves and hose could be considered pastel, even if his breeches and jerkin blinded eyes as well as the sun.
“Well . . .” Lord Bernard rolled his hand in the air. “It’s not really within my character. But tonight, I felt compelled to have a spot of fun. You understand, to truly be seen. A whim Her Majesty has yet to voice an opinion on, thankfully.” He winked, stirring guilt Carolle promptly forced down.
Queen Ameera tapped his arm with her fan again. “I admit to being torn. Risks are welcome in Racinian fashion, dear Carolle. Yet the misses take their toll.” The queen’s eyes trolled up Lord Bernard as her smile grew. “Perhaps it would be best if I look you solely in the eye tonight, Rodinger. We owe you that much for the yoke we have settled on your shoulders.”
“Never a burden to take up Racine’s call for peace, Your Grace.”
With his sleeves knotted closed and his jerkin laced up to his neck, Gaines cleared his throat and piped in, “Racine is fortunate to have such a servant, Lord Bernard.”
“Ah,” Queen Ameera soughed. “Bumptious young Gaines. I did not see you earlier.” She gave Lord Bernard a sidelong glance. “And here we were speaking of peace.”
“Yes, Barimor,” Lord Bernard said, rubbing his bearded chin. “What are your opinions on the rumored treaties with the Warring States?”
Smugness returned to Gaines’s features as he thought on his reply. “I’m afraid my father’s opinions reflect my own, my lord, Your Majesty. The Warring States would be better served under Her Majesty’s rule, if not governed by the Verdict Ring directly. Racine can strengthen the States through our leadership and achieve a lasting peace.” To the queen, he said, “I like to believe those opinions would have been shared by our late King Clyde, may his soul guide us from the Glades.”
“Sins of the past do not skip generations, young Gaines,” the queen replied. “Carolle, dear, when you come in from the cold, your cheeks shall have a healthy flush. I advise you not to waste it on little Gaines. Some mistakes need only be imagined in order for one to learn from them.”
“Your Majesty?” Gaines asked with a choked laugh. “If I had my sword, I would offer it for you to finish me swiftly.”
The queen’s steely green eyes regarded him. “I am a mage of the great Tower of Trône d’Argent, petite Gaines. What would I do with a sword that I could not do with the very air in your lungs?”
Gaines paled and swallowed. He offered a subservient nod. His presence alone worked to their disadvantage.
So, Carolle decided to use that banter. “It pleases me to find I share your opinion, Your Majesty,” she said. “I have no interest in climbing a suitor’s nose to reach the stars.”
A blush entered Gaines’s tanned cheeks, which amused the queen greatly. Fluttering her fan, Queen Ameera delivered a “bravo” and spread the fragrance of rose petals. She then took Carolle’s hand and walked her away from the orchestra to a far corner of the pavilion, wordlessly clearing out the courtiers. “If other matters behave themselves, I look forward to spending more time with your troupe over the coming months. My heart, though I am stringently Racinian, pleads to know more of my Patevian heritage.”
“We’d be thrilled, Your Majesty,” Carolle said. “All of us grew up with bedtime tales of Queen Tanwen’s courtship to King Clyde. Baker to queen. A fantasy, that. I’m sorry to see the queen mother isn’t in attendance. I do hope she is well.”
The queen’s gaze roamed over the spires of the castle. “Unfortunately, that is not the case, Lady Ysbryd.” Her levity reappeared. “Come to an afternoon tea next week. Lord Bernard is hosting. Your presence may keep his gray demeanor at bay long enough for others to brave acceptance.” The woman’s grin heated Carolle’s cheeks. “Bring Lady Davies as well. Her nerves may have settled enough to permit conversation by then.”
Carolle dipped. “Honored, I am, Your Majesty. Diolch yn fawr.”
“Croeso.” The queen’s fan fluttered again. “Fabulous.”
Queen Ameera brought Carolle back to the noblemen, who were splitting an awkward silence. “Rodinger,” the queen said, “you must invite Lady Ysbryd and Lady Davies to your tea next week. I insist.”
Lord Bernard replied, “Of course, Your Majesty.” He asked as the queen escorted him away, “Is it mine now?”
Gaines pinched Carolle’s sleeve to get her attention and accompanied her down the stairs and off the carpet. “I’m glad you chose to be friends, Lady Ysbryd. You truly are the perfect bait.”
“Charming.” Her glare went unnoticed.
“I shall send you a dress for the tea with the first half of your payment in the morning. Don’t be late and do maintain your discretion as you note anything of interest.”
“How do I know what’s of interest?” Carolle asked. “You could tell me that much, man.”
Halfway to Lucille and Chester, he deliberated. “Perhaps. First and foremost, keep your focus on befriending the high lord, but—and only if it’s not a risk—hone your ears for further mention of the Warring States.” He lowered his chin and used his green eyes to hold her attention. “Pursue it safely. I’ll temper any impatience; you deepen his trust.” With that, he went on alone to interrupt Chester and Lucille’s laughter.
By the water dragon fountain, Madame Davies held her side and fanned herself too forcefully. Carolle lifted two steaming cups of tea to excuse the closing of their fans and offered one to her matron.
Madame Davies took what was likely her first deep breath since meeting the queen. “Indomitable woman,” she muttered, receiving her tea. “Sweet as honeyed butter to Dafydd and me one moment, devouring a gossiping courtier the next.” She jiggled her legs beneath her swishing skirts with one of her loosening exercises. “But that’s by the by. We’ve survived to shine another day; that calls for wine, not tea.”
“Madame Davies . . .” Carolle winced while delivering the news. “Queen Ameera has requested we join her for an afternoon tea next week.”
“I? Me? Duwiau mawr . . . When? What should? No, not to a tea, but what?” Madame Davies spluttered. She cleared her throat when some nobles wandered by, though they didn’t pay them any mind. “Lucky, we are, yes?”
Carolle agreed with the truth underlying her statement and said sourly, “Racinian high society can’t get enough of us.” Even in a mercenary capacity. Still, a fool alone would pass up that coin. Carolle silently reprimanded herself for following her mother’s dogma; anything for a penny, everything for a gold.
“Listen to me,” Madame Davies said, “a gibbering wreck when I trained all of you to conduct yourselves well and that.” She set her cup on the edge of the fountain. “Well, enough of this, I say. Go on, then. This is a ball, innit? We do dance and we’re not leaving here without proving it.”
Dragged along toward a rousing melody, Carolle’s attention returned to Gaines, then to Lord Bernard’s cheerful grin for the queen. Leave it to nobles to make her feel like a river rat again. Carolle Graean had survived the night after all.
