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It was cooler, and the rains had stopped at last. A gentle wind blew out of the west, rolling over Chamalee Hill and bringing with it the smell of wet pine needles and fresh juniper. The normal scents of the Shikander Valley, like the incense of the shrines and the sweat and offal from the marketplace, were still there, but less noticeable than usual today.
Rada and Sir Walter were finally taking their ride together, and for once, everything seemed to be going well. They had no fixed plans for the day, so at first they wandered along Madyan Road and over the bridge into the old town, where they picked up some bottles of rice wine to give as Summer Solstice presents to their friends. This made Rada gloomy for a few minutes. After half a week, Elwyn still wasn’t speaking to her, but Rada bought her a bottle, all the same. It would have felt wrong not to get her something.
With the rice wine carefully packed in straw in their saddle bags, they rode on, taking a sharp right in the Kam Shar District and heading down into the valley. Here, on the steep, garden-lined switchbacks of Pagall Road, they had a view straight across the misty gorge at Bakayn Hill and the Myrcian compound at the Pradivani Palace. Inevitably, they started talking about the romantic drama playing itself out there.
“Maybe I don’t understand women,” said Sir Walter, “but I would have thought the princess would be feeling more sociable by now.”
“Yes, I would have thought so, too,” said Rada sadly.
“I have to say I’m impressed Lord Andras is still making an effort to please,” said Walter. “There’s something admirable in that.”
“Perhaps,” said Rada.
In the past few days, Andras had transformed himself into some kind of hero from romantic songs, bringing Elwyn presents and arranging for her to be serenaded by musicians at night. He read poetry to her over breakfast, and it didn’t seem to bother him that Elwyn muttered curses under her breath the whole time.
Walter nodded. “That’s the most important quality for a gentleman, I think: consistency of purpose. Some fellows have it. Some don’t. Lord Andras has it.”
“Maybe,” said Rada, looking away so Walter wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. She actually agreed with him on the vital importance of consistency, but she was thinking of how she had met Andras, and the little orgy he had been having. The only thing Andras pursued consistently was his own pleasure, as far as she could tell.
“It proves he’d be a good husband, don’t you think?”
A nervous giggle escaped her. “Is this something you spend a great deal of time thinking about, Walter? The qualities of a good husband?”
He laughed, too. “Sure. From time to time, anyway. Don’t you?”
“Occasionally.” Her face grew warm, and she saw he was blushing, too. She looked away.
Their conversation turned to their families as they rode along the bottom of the valley on Ghattee Road, over the River Shikander. Walter was the only person at the palace—besides Elwyn—who knew all about her family. He knew about the cattle ranch her parents had started in their retirement. He knew about her little brothers, Ignas and Leonas. Telling stories about them—even very funny ones—always made her sad, because she would probably never see the boys again. But Walter understood, because he had a younger sister, Susan, who was still back in Myrcia. She was married now and had a little boy Walter had never seen.
On a whim, rather than going back up to the palace, Rada and Walter crossed the Gulava Stream and went up Gulava Hill to the little teahouse and the park up there. On such a beautiful day, quite a number of people had the same idea, but Walter managed to find a quiet spot, shielded from the crowd by a rhododendron, where they could spread their blankets and have lunch while looking back up the gorge toward the old town.
The breeze began to pick up as they finished their meal, and Rada, in a move of uncharacteristic deceitfulness, pretended she was chilly in order to move closer to Walter. He obligingly put his arm around her, and she snuggled closer, feeling contentment spread through her with the warmth from his body. She wondered if he would try to kiss her, and she knew if he did, she would let him. After everything that had gone wrong recently, she felt she deserved some better luck for a change.
Most of the time, she worried too much about her family and her friends, and about her duties for the Vizierate, to care about her own desires. But now, for once, she forgot everybody but herself and Walter, and if he had turned and asked her to run off with him, she would probably have done it, for no other reason than because it would make her happy.
He opened his mouth several times and then shut it, like he was getting ready to speak and hadn’t quite found the words yet. Rada’s heart started to gallop in her chest as she waited, wondering what he would say, sure that whatever it was, her life would change forever once he said it.
Suddenly she felt a tiny vibration through her right hand, and she looked down to see the opal in her magysk ring flashing with a sharp, insistent light. Oh, Earstien, it was a signal.
Turning casually, she saw a blue jay in the rhododendron, watching her reproachfully. A bird message—that meant it was one of the hillichmagnars. Maybe Pallavi. Oh, holy Finster, could her timing have possibly been worse? For once, Rada decided that maybe duty wasn’t the most important thing, and she shifted her left hand to cover the flashing light of the opal.
But she was too late. Walter had seen it, and asked, “What’s going on? Is that some kind of alarm or alert?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she lied. “Something stupid for the Vizierate, probably.”
He withdrew his arm. “Listen, if you’ve got to go, I can take all these things back to the palace. Don’t worry about me.”
“Oh, blast it all,” she thought, looking at the ring more closely now. It wasn’t simply flashing. The light was moving from one side of the opal to the other, indicating direction. Off to the east, to her right, down the valley.
She clenched her fists, let out a long, frustrated sigh, and got up to help Walter fold the blankets. He was right; she had to go. This was her job, and she had to trust that Pallavi wouldn’t have summoned her without a very good reason.
They rode as far as the Gulava Stream together, where he headed up Bakayn Hill toward the palace, and she turned back along Ghatee Road, following the little lights in her ring down along the riverbank. It was cooler here, under a thick canopy of willows and cottonwoods and gnarled old cherry trees. Rada shivered from the chill, and all the more so for the memory of Walter’s arm around her.
She was across the river from the hot springs now, and the wind brought over the scent of sulfur and clouds of gray steam. Only thin shafts of sunlight pierced the damp and gloom, and where they struck the muddy road, swarms of blue and yellow butterflies gathered, swirling up at Rada’s approach and then settling back down to drink from the puddles again when she had passed.
After half a mile, at a turn in the road by a crumbling stone embankment, she saw a cloaked rider waiting, and the lights in her ring ceased. To her surprise, though, it wasn’t Pallavi. It was Vikker Sarassen, and she felt no obligation to hide her annoyance from him.
“I hope you have a good reason for calling me down here on my day off,” she said.
“I apologize if I interrupted something important,” said Vikker, bowing. “But I really do need your help. How are things going at the palace between our young lovers?”
“Who? Oh, Elwyn and Andras. Quite poorly, actually.” She told Vikker about Andras’s attempts at being romantic, and the princess’s stubborn refusal to be romanced. “It’s not looking very promising, to be honest.”
Vikker smiled. “Perhaps you are too young, my dear lady, or perhaps you don’t read the right sort of novels. The fact that she has such a violently negative reaction to him is a very good sign, indeed. If she were bored with him or ignored him entirely, then it would be hopeless. You’d be astonished at how quickly a woman can go from yelling at a man to kissing him.”
That didn’t sound right at all to Rada. Or was it? For a moment, she worried that might be her problem with Walter. “Should we be arguing more?” she wondered. No, that was stupid. Vikker clearly had no idea what he was talking about.
Out loud, she said, “I’ll be very surprised if Princess Elwyn ever kisses Andras.”
“I disagree. I think the odds are very much in their favor. Which is why I’m here, as it happens. I want you to help me stop them from getting together.”
“Not this again,” she said. “Vikker, we want them to get married. It’s official policy, remember?”
“It’s policy because Pallavi and Lord Maninder have the ear of the council, at least for the time being.”
“Yes, and I have my orders from Pallavi.”
“Pallavi has many fine qualities, but she has no idea what she’s doing with this marriage alliance. It’s a terrible idea. The only ones who will benefit will be the Immani. With the Sigors back in power, they will join with the Empire again, and together they will attack Loshadnarod. You know they will.”
“I don’t know any such thing, and I trust Pallavi.” Rada shook her head. She couldn’t believe Vikker had called her down here, had taken her away from Walter when things were going so well, simply in order to have this stupid argument again. “Besides, I wasn’t kidding. Elwyn really hates Andras. I’m not sure you have anything to worry about.”
“So tell me—are you doing anything to help get the two of them together? A few discreet spells? A few little magysk tricks here and there to create a mood?”
Rada thought of the potion she had given to the earl. To the best of her knowledge, it was still locked in his desk, and she had every intention of making sure it stayed there. “Not really, no.”
“See? You’re conflicted. You know I’m right.” Vikker grinned. “Don’t leave it up to chance, Rada. Help me make sure of it. I’ve got the most marvelous plan to keep them apart forever, and I’d love to have your help.”
“What’s your plan?”
He shook a finger teasingly at her. “All in good time. Will you help me?”
She could pretend to be on his side in order to find out what he wanted to do. But that seemed like a giant waste of her time, after he’d already wasted enough of it for one day. “This is ridiculous. We have our orders. Leave the two of them alone, will you?”
His smile vanished. “And why should I?”
“Because it’s our duty. Because the council decided to promote this marriage and told us to help, that’s why!”
“The council can change its mind,” he said angrily, turning his horse in the path. “And it will change its mind. And when it does, you’re going to wish you were on my side.” Then he spurred his horse and rode away.