To Taudde’s surprise, Mage Ankennes removed a thick ring of braided gold and silver wire from his thumb and offered it as a gift to whoever told the best story of misspent youth. Koriadde instantly tossed an armband of copper set with fire opals onto the table and suggested that everyone tell a story and then the entire gathering could decide upon a winner, everyone else paying a forfeit to this fortunate person. The young men and the keiso agreed enthusiastically.
Summer Pearl poured more wine for everyone to toast this decision while the servants brought in new dishes. Featherreed began a story from her first year as a deisa of climbing over the rooftops of the candlelight district on midsummer night to meet a boy from Maple Leaf House—the son of a keiso and a wealthy ship merchant. Taudde lost the first part of this story because Leilis led in two servants with trays of some complicated tidbits and he found himself at once trying to trace the workings of the ensorcellment that surrounded the woman. Without touching her again, he couldn’t quite grasp the edges of the spellwork… She went out again, leaving him once more frustrated and distracted. And worried. What if she told the Mother of Cloisonné House that she thought the foreign Lord Chontas might be a mage?
“I made it to the rooftop of the Sea-Dragon Theater much later than we had agreed to meet there,” Featherreed was saying when Taudde finally managed, with some difficulty, to bring his attention back to her story. “It was nearly the hinge of the night when I arrived, and raining gently. That night the Riembana were performing the ‘Four Seasons of the Heart,’ by Geselle Maniente, you know. The music came up and mingled with the rain. I thought I had never heard anything so beautiful. It seemed to me that every drop of rain chimed like a bell as it hit the rooftops. So I made my way around to the western side of the theater where the rooftops nearly touch and jumped across the last gap—”
“And found the boy there with another girl,” guessed Ankennes, smiling. “Girls mustn’t trust the promises boys make at noon; so few last till dawn.”
Meadowbell and Rue both laughed knowingly, clearly familiar with this story.
“You’re wrong,” said Featherreed, laughing and blushing at the same time. “He was there. So were four other couples. Even in the rain! But it was midsummer night, and there was ‘Four Seasons of the Heart,’ so everybody had had the same idea. Including Mother and her keisonne!”
Ankennes exclaimed “No!” and laughed freely. All the young men were grinning or laughing. The prince smiled.
“The Mothers of all the Houses knew perfectly well somebody ought to be there,” finished Featherreed. “I was so embarrassed! But the boy—it was Hedderes, son of Kedres ken Miriedd, and he’ll tell you it’s all true—anyway, he’d very bravely remained to stay by me if I came. We both swore on the mountains and the sea that we’d just meant to listen to the music—all the young people swore the same oath, I believe—and fortunately Mother didn’t take the adventure very seriously.”
“A good story,” approved Koriadde, and immediately began to try to outdo it with a story involving his father’s favorite horse, half a dozen of his evidently wild friends, and the terrible time they’d had getting the animal into the uppermost story of his father’s country house in Kenne.
The youngest of the keiso had remained at the edge of the gathering, her intense sapphire gaze drawn first to one and then another of the company as the stories were told. She was eating only a little and drinking nothing but tea, Taudde had noticed with approval. But the girl’s shyness had eased as the men’s attention was drawn elsewhere. She laughed freely at Koriadde’s story and then at Meadowbell’s, looking young, happy, and extremely beautiful. And the prince, though he laughed dutifully at Meadowbell’s story and then Jerinte’s, was clearly enthralled by her. His captivation was, in fact, rather charming. Taudde, not wanting to be charmed, looked away.
The keiso, too, were aware of the prince’s attention. After Jerinte’s story, Rue murmured to her young protégée. Moonflower looked first surprised and then pleased. Truly, she was not shy by nature, Taudde saw, only she had been uncertain at first in company she did not know.
Now she thought for a moment and then began, “Now, this happened when I was only fourteen. One cannot expect good sense from a child of fourteen, so what happened was not my fault.”
Around the table everyone was settling back with anticipation. The keiso shifted around the table, Meadowbell settling next to Miennes and Featherreed by Jerinte. Rue settled to a cushion beside Taudde. Servants had brought a pale liquor, and Rue poured him a small cup. Taudde tasted the liquor cautiously. It was very sweet, with a tart aftertaste that lingered on the tongue. The prince distractedly waved away the cup Summer Pearl offered him, his attention all for Moonflower.