She waits for him to admit his mutual attraction, to renounce his moral nonsense. He sighs, and his features soften further.
“I am sorry that it is so,” he says.
The heat takes her fully, but there are still guards and workers watching them from a distance.
“You profess to be open-minded, yet you presume to judge me?” she says.
“My judgement is not for you.”
Howard huffs. She has seen the way Lady Tylney wrinkles her nose when Howard kisses her husband, or when he takes liberties with her in company. This is the province of prudish elders, who think that a woman of Howard’s age cannot know her own mind.
“Your lectures grow tiresome, Voda,” Howard says, putting a hand upon her hip to soften the jibe.
“Then my departure is for the best.”
She cannot crack this patient shell of his. It almost makes her want to try to kiss him again, to prove that he feels something towards her.She may be working against Henry now for Boleyn’s sake, but how can she make Kelaverinn see that before the king plucked her from the lice-infested hole of her aunt’s estate, she was a nothing? Theirs was an equal transaction: she gave him her youth; he gave her the highest consequence that a woman can possess.
“I am so fortunate. I have lived a dreamer’s life, sir,” she says.
“Have you? I will tell you this, now that we are no longer beholden to each other. It is not the dream I would dream for any of my daughters.”
“You would not wish them to be queens of your land?”
“Some jewels are not worth the cost, no matter how brightly they shine.”
That is nonsense too. She fingers the rings upon her hand, the cobalt spinels at her throat.
Across the courtyard, the driver of Voda Kelaverinns’s carriage coughs loudly. Perhaps he has deemed the single coin no longer sufficient for this delay. Kelaverinn glances at him, then looks back at Howard with an intensity she does not like.
“May I ask you a question, Your Majesty?”
“Of course.”
“Have you ever told the king what you enjoy?”
“The king is very generous to me.”
Why is she so defensive of the man she is trying to topple? Kelaverinn cocks his head, waiting for a direct answer.
“He has very good taste. His gifts always suit me well.”
Still, he waits.
“Very well. No,” she says. She rolls her eyes, taps her foot. Why did she leave her ladies’ company for this? At leasttheynever ask her such tiresome questions.
“Then may I suggest that this be your final study under my tutelage? Tell him, when next you see him. Tell him whatyou enjoy.”
Howard smirks. “What do you suppose I will learn?”
“Well, at the very least it will bring you and your husband, as attentive as he is, closer, will it not?”
Suddenly she understands: this is his way of tempering her disappointment. He hopes to direct her affections back towards Henry instead of upon him. He is defending himself, poor man. And while his refusal hurts, goodness knows she has refused certain men in her time. It had to happen once in her life.
“I am sorry to have behaved inappropriately towards you, sir,” she says.
Inexplicably, Kelaverinn sighs again. “All is forgotten. Now, I shall return to the carriage and allow this poor man to deliver me to Sweillan.”
They walk peaceably back to the gate, and Howard watches as her tutor climbs awkwardly into the carriage. Once he is seated, he peers out at her and presses his hands to his chest – the Uuvek way of showing respect, as the Elbenese remove their caps.
