Echo in Onyx Page 16

  When I came hastily to my feet, she shook her head again and extended her other hand to hold me off. I stood there helplessly and said, “So how are you doing? You haven’t been willing to talk about it much in the past two days.”

  “I’m doing—as well as I can, I guess,” she said. She dropped her palms to the bed and leaned back in a half-stretch. “I keep feeling like I can’t get enough air. I keep feeling like there’s a patch over my eye, so I can’t see everything that’s in front of me. Like I’ve broken the heel off of one shoe and I’m limping along with one hip higher than the other. Like the world is incomplete, or my ability to comprehend it is incomplete. I’m not explaining it very well.”

  “Well enough,” I said. “That’s how I felt when Robbie came home married to another girl.”

  She smiled painfully. “So what I’m feeling is grief and loss.”

  “From what I know of both of them, they eventually heal,” I said. “But I don’t know how long it will take.”

  She dropped back so she was half lying on the bed, though her feet were still on the floor. “Maybe I don’t want them to heal,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want to forget Prudence.”

  “Healing isn’t the same as forgetting,” I said, crossing the room to kneel by one of the trunks. “It’s just a way to live with pain.”

  I unpacked one of my own plain dresses and shook out the wrinkles. “Time for me to make my appearance, I think,” I said.

  I changed clothes, then picked up a woven straw bag and stuffed a small square bundle inside. Jamison’s clothes, still folded in the shape of a pillow. Marguerite watched me with shadowed eyes.

  “What will you do with his things?” she asked.

  “There will be a temple. Or a beggar. Someplace I can drop them off.”

  “Be careful,” she said.

  My only answer was a shrug. Too late for that. I said, “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

  Stepping into the hallway, I made my best guess as to where the servants’ stairwell would be. The palace was so well organized that it was easy to find, and I headed downstairs toward the general direction of purposeful clatter. I only encountered a few other maids and footmen on my way—half in palace livery, half wearing the colors of the visiting guests—but I moved with such self-confidence that no one offered me assistance. I was able to slip outside through the kitchen and work my way around the outer edge of one of those great, curving wings of the palace without encountering anyone who asked my business. Only then did I take a deep sigh of relief.

  I spent a few minutes investigating the streets nearest to the palace, admiring the well-kept facades of the buildings, which seemed to be a mix of commercial and residential establishments. Only the extremely wealthy would live this close to the king, I supposed, and all the shops in the vicinity would carry the highest-quality merchandise. Every person I passed was dressed at the height of elegance, even the maids and valets, who looked almost as fashionable, and even more arrogant, than the nobles they served.

  About eight blocks from the palace, I came across the thing I’d been looking for: a wooden hut about the size of three large men huddled together, with a wide slit at the top of a padlocked door. A pauper’s box, which I’d first encountered in Oberton, since no such amenity existed in the village where I’d grown up. Temple priestesses used the boxes to collect donations for the poor, Aunt Jean had told me, selling anything of value and distributing anything of use. I resisted the urge to glance around furtively, and just marched boldly up to the receptacle and slipped my bundle through the slot. I immediately felt as if I had dropped off an anvil; my heart felt lighter than it had in days.

  Now I was free to wander with even less purpose, and I aimlessly crossed streets and picked my way across low bridges and peered through shop windows to see what items might be on display. I had been out for nearly an hour when I came across a small plaza with a pretty fountain, a ring of white stone statues, and three flower vendors. I had been wondering how quickly I would be able to get directions to a commercial district where fresh blossoms would be available, so I was delighted to stumble across these small-time merchants. They didn’t have much variety and their prices were ridiculously high, but I was so pleased to be able to bring back flowers for Marguerite’s first appearance that I didn’t even care.

  My hands full of dripping bouquets, I turned back toward the palace, debating my return strategy. I would like Lourdes to see me enter the building because she seemed like the kind of person who wanted to keep track of every soul under her roof, and I didn’t want her hunting for me when I was pretending to be someone else. Yet servants always entered through the back door, even when they were arriving someplace for the first time. Maybe I would get lucky and Lourdes would be patrolling the back regions of the palace when I walked in. Otherwise—

  “You’re so deep in thought,” said a voice beside me, startling me so much I almost dropped the flowers. “Are you plotting a revolution?”

  It was Nico. He fell in step beside me as I scowled at him and tried to calm my galloping heartbeat. “How long have you been following me?” I demanded. Have you been trailing me ever since I stepped out of palace? Are you wondering why you saw me leave when you never saw me arrive? Even worse, did you see me drop Jamison’s clothes into the pauper’s box? That last thought made my heart pound even harder.

  “For about three seconds,” he said. “I was off to run an errand when I spotted you buying flowers. Exactly what I would have expected you to be doing.”

  “Marguerite wanted something special for tonight, so I volunteered to go looking. I got out of the coach before we even arrived at the palace,” I said, clumsily filling in details to our sketchy story. “I’d almost given up when I came across those vendors.”

  “Oh, there’s a much better market not far from here,” Nico said. “I’ll take you there some morning.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I was flustered. “Because I’m not speaking to you!”

  “It seems like you’re speaking to me.”

  “That’s because you surprised me.”

  He grinned. “If that’s all it takes, be prepared to be surprised on a regular basis.”

  “It’s hardly a surprise if you’re prepared,” I snapped.

  That made him throw back his head and laugh, which left me even more ruffled. “All right, then,” he said genially. “I’ll just surprise you with no warning. Forget I mentioned it.”

  All this time we had been continuing back toward the palace, but now I drew out of the way of the other pedestrians and came to a halt. “Don’t you understand?” I exclaimed. “I’m angry with you. I don’t trust you. I don’t want you to pop up every time I turn around. I want you to leave me alone.”

  He stared down at me, now as serious as I was. “I understand that you’re angry, but you’re not being fair,” he said. “If anything, I think I’ve proved that you can trust me.”

  “You lied to me!”

  “I told you the truth when it mattered,” he shot back. “Can you say the same thing to me?”

  I opened my mouth, and then snapped it shut again.

  Well, no. I couldn’t. I hadn’t lied to him yet, as it happened, but I was about to lie to him, to his master, to everyone at court. I would do so every day for as long as we were in Camarria. The fact that I was lying made it even more imperative to keep him at a distance because he was the very last person I wanted to discover the truth.

  But maybe …

  Maybe if I avoided him, he would just become more intrigued. He would be more likely to spy on me, trying to guess my secrets. Whereas if I relented, if I seemed to forgive him, he would be more relaxed. He would accept whatever time I had to give him, and not wonder what else I had going on in my life. Maybe I would be helping Marguerite, not harming her, if I kept Nico as my friend.

  I had been silent so long that he started to grow amused. “What dark thoughts are tumblin
g through your head?” he asked. “Maybe you really are planning a revolution.”

  “If I was, you’d be the last person I’d tell about it,” I said tartly.

  “Well, I’d recommend against leading a rebellion,” he said. “I know all you folks from Orenza want to rise up against the king, but that only leads to bloodshed and heartache. I’m sure you don’t really want that.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I suppose I’d better abandon my plans.” I slipped back into the flow of traffic and started toward the palace again. Nico fell in step beside me.

  “So we’re agreed then,” he said, as if we had actually talked out the tangle that lay between us. “Forgiveness on all sides, and no more lies. And friends again.”

  “We’re not agreed,” I said, “but I am willing to start over.”

  “From the very beginning?” He looked around, as if searching the streets for someone. “There’s a promising urchin. Pickpocket, unless I miss my guess. Go see if he’d like to rob you and I’ll come to your rescue again.”

  I was tricked into a laugh. “I rescued myself, thank you very much.”

  “Eh, maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. If I hadn’t come along, things might have turned out very differently.”

  I would have disputed that, except I was silenced by a sudden, vivid memory of Marguerite struggling in Lord Jamison’s brutal embrace. It had taken five of us to vanquish him—and at such a terrible cost. I had to fight off a shiver.

  “I suppose we can each have our own opinions on that score, but it hardly matters,” I said in a frosty voice. “I don’t think we need to go quite that far back.”

  “So let me guess where you think we should be in our timetable,” he said. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. “Perhaps the second or third time we happened across each other in the flower markets?” He glanced down at me. “Unless you’d like to move ahead a few days. To after the kiss by the fountain but before the fight in the street. My very favorite moment, in fact.”

  He was outrageous, but I wouldn’t let him see how appealing I thought he was. Never forget how dangerous this man can be, I reminded myself sternly. “The flower markets are the best you can hope for,” I told him. “Be thankful for that much.”

  “Oh, I am. But I shall look ahead to the days when we might get better acquainted—again.”

  I shot him a dark look, which made him laugh. “So I suppose now I need to make polite conversation as we get to know each other,” he said. “How was your journey to Camarria? Pleasant, I hope?”

  Goddess have mercy on my soul. Pleasant. “It seemed like a very long trip,” I said. “It was wearisome to be in the coach for so many days. How was your visit to Alberta?”

  Nico grimaced. “More eventful than we were hoping.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Lord Jamison—you remember him?”

  I almost choked on my own saliva. “The prince’s half brother. Of course I remember him.”

  “He was up to his old tricks in Alberta, and a young lady’s brother took exception to his antics—and Cormac wouldn’t defend Jamison. In fact, they had a huge fight. Cormac insisted Jamison stay behind to make amends, so the rest of us rode on without him.”

  I caught my breath. Merciful goddess, could we really be this lucky? How deeply had Cormac been disgusted? “Do you think the prince will complain about his brother to the king? Do you think Jamison might be banished from court?”

  “I admit I entertained some of the same thoughts,” Nico said, “but just today I heard Cormac say something about what he would plan ‘when Jamison gets here.’ I suppose Cormac has already forgiven him, but maybe Jamison will have learned his lesson from this. Maybe he will become a little better behaved.”

  I knew for a fact that not only had Jamison failed to learn his lesson, but now he would never have a chance to do so. Since I obviously couldn’t say that, I merely replied, “I suppose we’ll find out once he arrives. When did you and the prince get back to Camarria?’

  “About a week ago. Visitors starting arriving in the city just a few days later. You can’t turn a corner in the palace without seeing echoes scampering down the hallway. I think Cormac is enjoying himself so far, but I would imagine the novelty will wear off within a week or two.”

  By this time, we had arrived at the palace and were strolling through the enclosed courtyard, dodging carts and carriages and the occasional groom leading a restive horse. I had made up my mind: I would head to the servants’ entrance and introduce myself to someone there and hope one of the maids or footmen let Lourdes know I had arrived.

  “Well, I don’t think the novelty will wear off for me for quite some time,” I said. I made a big show of staring at the lovely brick walls and the many turrets, trying to strike just the right note between gaping yokel and admiring visitor. “It’s so beautiful! I can’t wait to see the inside.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You just got here,” he said. “Come in with me. I’ll introduce you to Lourdes.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked, all innocent.

  “The head housekeeper. The most powerful person in the whole palace, not even excluding my uncle. You want to make sure she likes you.”

  I gave him a doubtful look. “Then maybe I shouldn’t start out with an introduction from you.”

  He laughed and took my arm. “Nonsense, I have an excellent reputation. Much better than Lord Jamison’s, at any rate. And she does like me.”

  I allowed him to lead me inside, where the scene was just as busy as it had been a couple of hours previously. Once more, I gawked at the high ceilings and pleasing proportions and sheer size of the great hall.

  “It’s so big,” I said inanely.

  Nico nodded. “Big enough to stage a battle. That was the original intent. If the palace was ever breached by enemies, the king’s personal guards would have enough room to make a last desperate stand.”

  Now I looked around with even more awe. “And have they ever?”

  “Not to my knowledge. But it could happen any day. Wouldn’t that be an exciting development for your visit to the royal city?”

  I had already had enough excitement for one trip. For one lifetime. “Actually, I would prefer not to deal with invasions and war.”

  “Fine. But don’t blame me if you’re bored while you’re here. Lourdes! I have someone you should meet.”

  The housekeeper had sailed up while we were talking, and she bobbed a polite curtsey to Nico. But she also smiled at him, which she hadn’t done with Marguerite. “Good afternoon, Nico,” she said. “I hope you’re having a pleasant day.”

  “I am. Very pleasant. I ran into an old friend and I wanted to bring her to your attention. This is Brianna, personal maid to Marguerite Andolin of Orenza.”

  Lourdes fixed her eyes on me as if trying to judge my weight, strength, and general health. I felt a bit like a heifer at the market. “Ah, yes. She said she had sent you off to run errands.”

  I held up the bouquets. “She loves to be surrounded by fresh flowers. So I said I would find some, but I got a little turned around when I tried to make my way to the palace.”

  “Yes, Camarria is much bigger than Oberton. You must take care not to get lost,” Lourdes said.

  Nico glanced down at me, as if he’d just had the best idea. “I’ll show you around some afternoon when her ladyship doesn’t need you.”

  “Oh, would you?” I said, trying to sound grateful. “That would be so kind. But right now I think I must find her and help her get ready for dinner.”

  Lourdes gestured at someone behind me. “I’ll have Annie show you to your room, and then to her ladyship’s suite,” she said. “Let me know if there’s anything her ladyship needs.”

  “Thank you so much.” I made a quarter-turn and bobbed the shallowest curtsey in Nico’s direction. “And thank you,” I said. “You’ve been so helpful.”

  It didn’t seem to have occurred to him till right this moment that, with Lourdes list
ening, he could hardly press me to agree to meet him somewhere later. I saw a look of annoyance cross his face, but then he nodded and said, “I’m glad I could help. Let me know if I can be useful in the future.”

  I nodded in return and followed Annie out of the hall.

  She led me first to my room, which was small, drab, and windowless, but at least I didn’t have to share it with anyone. My trunk had already been delivered, but I didn’t stay to unpack my things, just trailed Annie back downstairs two levels to Marguerite’s suite. I entered the room quietly, in case she was sleeping, and closed the door behind me.

  No one was in the sitting room, so I crept over to peer in the bedroom, expecting to see three of the beds occupied. Instead, I found Marguerite, Purpose, and Patience huddled together against the far wall of the darkened room, anxiously staring back at me.

  “My lady! What’s wrong?” I exclaimed, stepping in.

  Marguerite’s body grew so loose with relief that I almost thought she’d collapse to the floor. “Brianna! Thank the goddess you’re back! I was so worried—two servants have knocked at the door, but I wouldn’t let them in. I can’t have anyone see me with only two echoes! It would be a disaster! Everyone would know! Oh, why did we ever think we could carry off this insane idea—” She put her hands over her face and started sobbing. The echoes promptly burst into tears.

  I hurried over and drew them all down onto the big bed in one wretched, weeping heap. I made soothing noises and patted their shoulders and stroked their hair and promised them everything would be all right. Eventually Marguerite sniffled and straightened up. The others did the same.

  “I’m sorry,” Marguerite said in a scratchy voice. “It’s just that—every time I think about what we’ve actually done—I get so afraid. There are so many places to make a misstep—so many ways we can get caught out—and then—” She shivered.

  “We won’t think about ‘and then,’” I said firmly. “We’ll just think about ‘and now.’ And now I have to get you cleaned up and dressed for dinner. You’ll feel better then. You’ll see.”

  She looked unconvinced, but she nodded anyway. We spent the next hour readying ourselves for our first public appearance at the palace. Marguerite wore a rose-colored gown sprinkled with embroidered white daisies; it was accented by a swirling lace headpiece ornamented with tiny white petals. Patience and Purpose and I wore simplified versions of the same ensemble, though the lace of our own headpieces was thick enough to conceal my dark hair and long enough to cover our faces. We paused a moment to look at our group reflection in the mirror, and when Marguerite managed to summon a smile, we all conjured matching expressions. You could see the corners of our upturned mouths even through the pretty veils.