The kitchen staff greeted her absently as Nemienne emerged from the cellars into the warmth and light. They were in a desperate flurry. Clearly some massive event was planned for this evening, which wasn’t good because it meant that Leilis was probably extremely busy.
Nemienne found the other woman still in her room, however. Two little girls were helping Leilis dress in elaborate robes of sea blue and slate gray; spume broke around the hem of her overrobe and white gulls flew from knee to shoulder. Leilis wore a gull of pearls and hematite in her hair. She looked beautiful, calm, and remote as the sea. She greeted Nemienne with an abstracted nod.
“Your sister is attending a dance at the House of Butterflies,” she told her. “You would do better to look for her tomorrow. Or better still, four days from now. I believe there’s a break in her schedule at noon. She’s terribly busy. Or were you looking for me?”
“Oh, for you,” said Nemienne, rolling her eyes at the idea of trying to catch up with her keiso sister. Karah’s flower wedding to Prince Tepres was still more than a year in the future, but from the pace of preparations anyone would think that merely days remained. All of Karah’s sisters had resigned themselves to seeing very little of her until the ceremony was over.
Nemienne explained why she’d come, and also related the exchange between Taudde and the prince. “I knew you’d understand what they meant,” she concluded, and folded her hands in her lap, looking expectantly at Leilis.
The woman inclined her elegant head. “I know you’re an apprentice mage, Nemienne, but do try to think like a keiso for a moment. They were speaking of the burden of Seriantes trust, of course. Poor Taudde.”
Nemienne didn’t understand what Leilis meant. She blinked.
“There are two edges to this knife,” added Leilis, with a slight air of explaining something obvious in words of one syllable. “Taudde has to explain to his grandfather how he has become almost a friend of the son of the man who killed the son of his grandfather—”
Nemienne unraveled this only because she already knew the story.
“And Prince Chontas Taudde ser Omientes ken Lariodde also has to explain to the King of Kalches how he came to be in service to the heir of the Dragon of Lirionne. And this on the eve of the solstice. The King of Kalches cannot be pleased at any suggestion of divided loyalties in a prince of Kalches. I wonder whether he will understand how Geriodde Nerenne ken Seriantes forced Taudde’s choice?” Her expression had become calm and even more distant. Despite her youth, she looked every bit a worldly, experienced keiso. “It would be a pity if Taudde loses his grandfather’s trust because of the Seriantes Dragon. We shall need the King of Kalches to listen to his grandson. Perhaps I would like to go to Kalches, after all. Travel broadens the mind, they say.”
“And strengthens the will” was the rest of that saying. Nemienne tried to think of someone whose will needed strengthening less than Leilis’s, but failed. And Seriantes trust… Nemienne had never thought of trust as a burden, either to give or to bear. But she understood that it might be, for Taudde. In fact, thinking about it made her flinch a little. She asked instead, an easier question, “Will Narienneh let you go?”
“I should think so, if I put it to her properly. Almost anything can be managed if one simply goes about it properly.” Leilis slipped three silver bangles over her left wrist and turned to study the effect in the new and expensive full-length mirror that stood next to the fireplace.
She looked beautiful. And intimidating. Her mood did not seem precisely confiding—Leilis was never in a confiding mood, as far as Nemienne knew. And the sharp side of her tongue was nothing Nemienne wanted turned her way. But Nemienne asked anyway, cautiously, “I have wondered… I know it’s nothing to do with me, but I have wondered—what sort of proper management…”
“Led to the rearrangement in Cloisonné House’s line of inheritance?” Leilis glanced over her shoulder. Her tone was dry, but not offended. “In fact, that was hardly my management. Lily removed herself from the line by her own efforts.”
“Oh.”
Leilis gave a brief, matter-of-fact nod. “Mother knew well enough that her daughter would never make an acceptable successor for this House. She had known for years, of course, though she hadn’t wished to know it. I was actually sorry when she was forced to admit the truth. It was hard on her.” She sounded distantly sympathetic.
“Oh,” Nemienne said again.
“I didn’t expect her to name me as her heir,” said Leilis, but added without a trace of modesty, “but it was a good decision, so I wasn’t actually surprised.”