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—
The hairs on the back of Kel’s neck prickled. He could not have said why, precisely, but he did not like this—did not like Charlon giving the welcome address, instead of Benedict. Did not like the tone of his voice when he spoke. The words were polite enough—Kel would have bet Prosper Beck’s ten thousand crowns that Benedict had forced his son to memorize them—but there was an expression on Charlon’s face Kel knew, and disliked. A sort of gloating look.
“Indeed,” Charlon went on, “the haste and eagerness of Sarthe to cement this union, which has surprised us all, must certainly lie with the many advantages that will accrue to both our lands when we are joined in political matrimony. Sarthe, for instance, will have access now to a harbor. And we…”
He let his voice hang. There were a few titters; Kel could see the Sarthian Ambassadors, some distance away, glaring daggers.
“Did he just imply there’s no advantage to Castellane in this marriage?” Lin murmured.
Kel wondered for a moment if he should run at Charlon, knock him over. He could plead terrible inebriation. He would garner some sympathy; he doubted there was anyone at this party who hadn’t wanted to hit Charlon at some point or another.
But it would not stop things, he knew. Conor was the only one who could prevent this, and he was stonily silent, arms extended along the divan behind him, staring straight ahead.
“Well,” Charlon smiled, “wewill have the opportunity to learn more of the arts and culture of Sarthe. Who among us has not admired their music, their poetry?”
There was a confused murmur. If this was an insult, it was a poor one. Even Senex Domizio looked more puzzled than enraged.
“In that spirit,” Charlon said, “please approach, Princess Luisa d’Eon.”
Luisa looked up at Vienne; she had clearly recognized her name, and realized that somehow what was going on now was about her. Vienne said something to her softly, and together they came up to Charlon, in the center of the room. Luisa dropped a curtsy, her hair ribbons bobbing.
“Princess,” Charlon said, in very stilted Sarthian, “a gift for you,” and took from the inside of his jacket a thin gold box. He handed it to Luisa, who looked uncertain.
“We had all heard, for instance,” said Charlon, as Luisa fumbled the box open, “that the Princess of Sarthe, Aimada d’Eon, was a skilled dancer. While she is not here, we have been assured by the good Ambassadors from Sarthe that her sister Luisa is just as skilled in every area as she is. In fact, we have been assured, they are as good as interchangeable.”
“Gray hell,” Kel muttered. Luisa had opened the box, and taken out what was inside. Frowning, she unfolded a black lace fan with a gold-lacquered grip.
“I believe your sister has one like it,” Charlon said, not bothering with Sarthian now as he looked down at the girl. “Surely, then, you must know what to do.” He stepped back. “Dance for your Court, Princess.”
“He must be joking,” Lin whispered. “She’s just a girl, and she’s shy—”
“He’s not,” Kel said, grimly, just as the musicians began to play.As the tune rose up, rapid and sweet, the room exploded with the chant: “Dance! Dance! Dance!”
Luisa looked around uncertainly. The guests must have appeared a blur to her, Kel thought, of bright coats and dresses, rapid gestures and hungry faces. He could see Antonetta among the crowd; she had her hand over her mouth, as if she were stunned.
Kel looked at Conor. He had not moved, only Kel could see his hand curled against his side, and thought of what he had said in the carriage:If Sarthe insists that Luisa remain in Castellane for all this time, they might as well understand the world she will inhabit, and the people she will know.
Vienne tried to pull Luisa toward her, but Sena Anessa, looking at her across the room, shook her head warningly. Vienne let her arms fall to her sides. Kel could imagine what they were thinking. It was just a dance, and to run forward now to intervene would only underline how much of a child Luisa was, how unsuited to this position and this place. And they were, after all, the ones who had put her here.
Luisa began to dance. It was uncertain, awkward: She turned in a circle, the fan clutched in her hands. She was not following the beat of the music at all, only moving blindly, and in the flicker of the firelight, Kel could see the brightness of tears on her cheeks.
He felt Lin, beside him, tense. A moment later she was stalking across the room, her skirts swirling around her; she pushed through the crowd to where Luisa stood, shaking, and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “That’senough,” she said, her voice rising over the music. “This is ridiculous.Stop.”
—
The music stopped instantly. The sudden silence was like a shock of cold water; Lin felt herself suddenly incredibly exposed, the center of a room full of staring strangers. WherewasMayesh? She had been looking for him ever since Charlon Roverge had begun speaking, but she had not seen him among the crowd.
With a squeak, Luisa dropped the fan, pulled away from Lin, and ran over to the side of her guard, Vienne.Good,Lin thought.Let her go where she feels safe.She glanced over at Charlon, who was looking at her with an expression that reminded her of Oren Kandel—the sulky resentfulness of a boy whose game has been spoiled by a girl he had taken little note of before.
At least, Lin saw with relief, Vienne—accompanied by Kel, who was directing her—was hurrying Luisa out of the room. Whatever else happened, the girl would not be tormented further.
A mocking whistle cut through the silence. Lin looked to see dark-eyed Joss Falconet looking at her with amusement. “Charlon,” he said, “it seems the Counselor’s granddaughter thinks she has the right to interfere in the evening’s entertainment. Are you going to stand for that?”
He dropped a wink at Lin, as if to say:It’s all just amusement, just a game, you know.
She did not smile back. Of course he thought games were amusing; people like Falconet were the players of the game, not the pawns on the board.
Charlon looked over at his father, as if for help, but none seemed forthcoming. “No,” he said gruffly. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Counselor’s granddaughter,” he said. “You have deprived us of our entertainment this evening. How do you suggest it be replaced?”
