The Mystic Marriage (44 page)

“One might ask the same of you,” he continued. “What a marvelous time of peace and prosperity for Alpennia when the royal thaumaturgist has little better to do than plan betrothal parties. Quite a waste of your talents, I should think.”

Margerit didn’t mind that he had divined the nature of the ceremony so easily from the fragments she’d spoken aloud, but she minded the eavesdropping. And she was frightened by the casual nature of his presence. “If you think that Princess Anna would disapprove, perhaps you should speak to her about it,” she said boldly. “I’m sure she’d be interested to know you’re here in Rotenek.”

A smile twitched across his narrow, fox-like face. “Who do you think it was that invited me to return? You might tell your friend the baroness that I’m pleased with her efficiency in delivering my messages. Both of them.” He straightened up and turned to go, but paused for one last question. “How is your little alchemist friend doing? That Chazillen woman? You might have saved us all some trouble if I’d known she had such friends at court.”

Margerit didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until his silhouette disappeared through the doorway to the porch and she let it go. “Marken, do you know where Barbara is?”

“I think she had business with LeFevre this morning.”

Her mind raced. Had it been a threat? Would he dare? Had Annek changed her mind about protecting Antuniet’s work? It didn’t matter at the moment. Antuniet needed to know he was back and be given whatever reassurance she needed. “Can you find someone to take a message to her? Tell her to meet us at Trez Cherfis.” She began gathering together her notes and sketches. “Go! I’ll be fine for the two minutes it will take. If anything happens I promise to scream.”

“Yes, Maisetra,” he said in a tone that assured her that if he thought there was any true risk, the answer would have been no.

* * *

Antuniet heard the news with little emotion beyond a shadow at the back of her eyes and a moment’s pause with a hand on the doorway as if to keep herself from swaying. But then her eyes went wider and she said, “Anna,” and turned quickly toward the workroom.

“There’s no need to fear,” Barbara assured her. She had arrived at the workshop hard on their heels, for a rider could negotiate the city streets more nimbly than a carriage. “I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to bother you, but just to make certain, we can arrange for a watch again. And see that your apprentice goes by carriage between here and her father’s house. Just until we’re certain. But what could Kreiser hope for, in any event? We have enough copies of your book that he couldn’t hope to prevent your success by theft again.”

“He could create his own stones. And if he could lay hands on my notes—”

“You still have Princess Annek’s protection,” Margerit protested.

“Do I? When it was she who invited him back?”

Margerit saw Barbara shoot her a warning glance. She would have stepped carefully even without it. “There could be many reasons for that. Why should it have anything to do with you? But perhaps it’s time to show the princess your work. He wouldn’t dare make trouble if she gives you some official recognition—not when he hopes to…” She hesitated. “Not when he has other plans that need her assent.”

“I can’t,” Antuniet protested. “They’re not ready. The ruby process is still unreliable and I’ve only just worked out how to differentiate the fixations for chrysolite. The key is—”

“The key,” Margerit interrupted gently, “is to show Her Grace that her interest in your work will be rewarded. It’s enough, what you have. If you wait for perfection, you’ll never be ready. Shall I ask for an audience in your name?”

Antuniet closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “Yes,” she said at last.

The door to the inner workroom creaked and Anna’s pale face looked out. Margerit could tell from her expression that there had been little in the conversation that had escaped her ears.

“Maisetra—” she began.

Antuniet said briskly, “You needn’t pretend you weren’t eavesdropping. Better that you should know everything and be safe this time.” As if for the girl’s benefit, she turned to Barbara and said, “I never did learn what happened to Kreiser’s hirelings, the ones who broke in here.” She didn’t speak aloud the other things they’d done.

Barbara’s answer was careful and precise. “I hear they met with misfortune. An accident on the river. The water is cold and swift in January.”

Their eyes met and Antuniet gave the slightest of nods.
I never wondered,
Margerit thought.
Did she—?
She had seen Barbara kill a man before her eyes, but that had been in the heat of an attack.
No secrets…but I never thought to ask.
And she was uncertain whether she wanted to ask now.

It was dusk before they could return to Tiporsel House. Two guards had once more been installed, taking shifts out of a hastily improvised barracks in the workshop’s basement, and Anna had been sent home in the carriage with strict instructions to hire a ride for all future trips. Antuniet had balked at the suggestion that the guards be augmented with more personal protection. “No, everything that needs protection is here in the building. I won’t have an armin poking into my comings and goings.” And then, as if that thought led naturally to the next, “Jeanne. She should be warned.”

“Will you be seeing her this evening?” Margerit asked.

Antuniet’s answer was prefaced by the briefest of glances to where the new guard stood idly by the door. “No, she’s dining with the Estapezes. But we have that working tomorrow—”

“And it will be daylight,” Barbara interjected. “And she won’t be alone. Kreiser may be ruthless but he isn’t a fool. He attacked you once because he thought you were nobody. The Vicomtesse de Cherdillac isn’t a nobody. I agree, it’s the work that needs protection.”

It had been that last mention of Kreiser that reminded Margerit of the other thing he had said and she repeated it to Barbara as their carriage crossed the Pont Ruip.

“Both messages,” Barbara repeated. “Oh, Margerit, I’ve been played like a puppet. He never thought I was in Elisebet’s circle. The message was always for Annek: that he would find other ears to listen if she wouldn’t.” She pounded a fist against the cushions in frustration. “And I did his will as surely as if I’d been on his payroll.”

Margerit thought it best not to point out that it hardly mattered. That Kreiser no doubt had other cards in hand if she’d refused his errand. What galled Barbara was how she’d been tricked—she who prided herself on knowing every game being played in Rotenek and all the players in each. But this was a larger board with empires in the balance.

* * *

The long gallery that served as an antechamber for the palace offices was only sparsely populated at the hour they arrived, and the morning’s chill had not yet been driven out by the bustle of the day’s business. As Jeanne fussed over the last details of Antuniet’s appearance, Margerit though she was more nervous than all of them together.

“You shouldn’t have worn the brown. It’s the same dress you wore the last time you were here.”

Antuniet submitted to the adjustments and smoothing touches with what Margerit could see was discomfort and finally grasped Jeanne’s hands between her own, saying, “Let it be. If she remembers the dress then she’ll know that I haven’t wasted Margerit’s investment on vanity.” She continued her grasp long past any need. “It means so much that you could come with me. Both of you.”

That, more than anything, told Margerit how much had changed over the summer. This was a new Antuniet who no longer struggled to hold herself apart and aloof from the world. Margerit held out the wooden case containing the careful selection of gems to be presented and Antuniet finally untangled her hands to receive it. Only a few had been set in rings in the short time available. The rest were nestled in folds of white velvet to show their color to advantage, though color was the least of their properties.

Margerit had hoped to accompany Antuniet into Annek’s private office, to lend her own voice to the petition. But when the summons came, it was for Maisetra Chazillen alone. It was more cheering that the summons came in the form of Efriturik, playing the part of palace page to escort her within. Well, perhaps that would be better. He might not have the deep knowledge behind the work, but it was easy to guess that Annek had encouraged his participation to have an inside view.

She slipped a hand into the crook of Jeanne’s elbow, saying, “They could be hours if Antuniet feels expansive and Her Grace has the patience for it. We’ll keep warmer if we walk.”

She had never found her way past being shy in Jeanne’s presence. She wished that Jeanne would open the conversation about Antuniet. She would have begun with a risqué joke. The vicomtesse had a biting wit that often put her to the blush. Finally Margerit ventured, “I was worried when you didn’t join us for the summer as you’d planned.”

“Ah, yes. I should have apologized for that long ago,” Jeanne replied with a distracted air.

“You had other things on your mind.”

Jeanne paused in their aimless promenade and turned to her with a carelessly lopsided smile. “I was madly and desperately in love and hadn’t a thought to spare for anyone else.”

“I’m glad,” Margerit said quietly as they returned to walking.

“Are you? I’m not sure that Barbara approves, but she always takes delight in ordering other people’s lives. How do you stand it?”

Margerit tilted her head to consider the idea. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t the only one to fall under Barbara’s overcautious impulses. “I’ve never been sorry to follow her advice. And I’ve usually regretted it when I didn’t. Why doesn’t she approve?”

Jeanne leaned closely, as if divulging particularly spicy gossip. “She thinks I have designs on Toneke’s virtue.”

Margerit burst out laughing, then covered her mouth hastily as a crowd of women at the end of the gallery turned to stare. But whatever new confidences might have been shaken loose were muffled as one of the women broke away to join them.

“Jeanne, have you heard? Tionez Perzin has presented her husband with a son. That is, she’s been delivered of a son and will present the child to him once he returns from Paris. What a time to be away!”

“A son! She must be pleased about that.” Jeanne’s mood had shifted instantly to the smooth insincerity of the parlor and ballroom. “But Charluz, is she here in town? I thought she planned her lying-in for Iohen’s place in the country.”

“She did.” Another of the women had joined them. Margerit recognized her from some of Jeanne’s parties, but she fell more in Elisebet’s circles and their paths hadn’t crossed beyond that. “But the moment she was allowed to travel she packed up the babe and his nurse and came to town. If Iohen’s parents hoped that motherhood would steady her, they’ve learned differently. She arrived just yesterday, I think.”

Margerit barely listened to the flow of news and gossip: who had yet to return, what matches had been made over the summer, who had joined or left Princess Annek’s service. It seemed the honor of waiting on her was a mixed blessing and most were glad that protocol gave some respite after a few years.

“And they say Elisebet has dismissed half her waiting women,” came a whisper, more quietly than other news. “Who knows what it is this time. That’s why Elin is here,” the whisperer continued, with a nod to one of the younger women in the circle. “She’s to be interviewed for a position and we’re all here to congratulate her.”

“If she’s chosen or if she’s dismissed?” Jeanne asked with mock naiveté. The others joined hesitantly in the mirth.

An hour passed. The prospective attendant was summoned and led off down a corridor toward Princess Elisebet’s apartments. Another hour, filled by another stroll from one end of the gallery to the other, nodding at the other loiterers. And then the door they never stopped watching opened at last and Antuniet emerged. Efriturik bowed to her with a few words they couldn’t hear then left her standing and looking around as they hurried over.

The case of gems was gone.
Annek accepted the gift,
Margerit thought, though nothing of the details could be read in Antuniet’s face.

“Yes?” Jeanne asked eagerly, grasping Antuniet’s hands and holding them to her heart.

“It seems I have a commission,” Antuniet said in a dazed voice, as if the import had only now touched her. “Twelve gifts. To be completed for the New Year’s court. With specific effects designed for the recipients.” She blinked and seemed to come to herself. “I hardly know where to begin. She wants…well, I need to design them carefully. There are only so many stones one ring can hold. I may need to rethink the settings. And—”

“A commission?” Margerit repeated. “Does that mean an appointment or only the one project?” She didn’t dare to ask the deeper question: what this would mean for her quest to redeem the Chazillen name. Annek was more cautious than to give that away at the start.

“For now, I think, the one—to let me prove myself. But it means official recognition.” And as an afterthought, Antuniet added, “She wants me to move the work here to the palace grounds. Jeanne, I know I promised I’d make time to go with you to Maisetra Chaluk’s tomorrow, but I have an appointment with Annek’s
salle-chamberlain
and with an architect to see if there’s a suitable space for what needs to be done. I don’t know where to begin. Should I start the work at Trez Cherfis? I don’t know how long it will take to arrange the new facilities.”

Antuniet was still babbling distractedly when they came out into the Plaiz and the carriage was brought around. Jeanne took advantage of the privacy of the interior to stop the flow of words with a kiss. Margerit looked away in embarrassment as Jeanne whispered, “Never mind about tomorrow. We’ll have plenty of time.”

“A commission,” Antuniet repeated in wonder. And then, more surely, “A commission. It’s only a step, but a long one. I need to know more about the intended recipients: their strengths and weaknesses. How best to enhance the effects Annek desires. I think—” She seemed to make a decision. “I think it would be best to ask Barbara for help.”