“A gentle courtship,” murmured Narienneh. She tapped the letter with the tip of one finger. “Perhaps. We do not want the heir’s interest to wane, but your suggestion may be wise. Profit and prudence combined. A slow and gentle courtship… that may serve our purpose well. Write out an acceptance to this, Leilis, if you please. I think it best if Moonflower does not see the prince anywhere save within the protection of the House, but the prince is welcome to engage her company here. We will all be very respectable.”
Leilis bowed her head.
“You are quite correct,” added Mother. “We do not wish the bud to lose its fresh purity. If Rue is not available to accompany Moonflower, then someone else may chaperone her. No one who resents her. Bluefountain has sense. But I will want two women with her. Hmm. You may stay with her, perhaps.”
Leilis acknowledged this with a nod, though chaperoning young keiso was not ordinarily a part of her duties. But she did not dislike the idea, in this case. With Moonflower in the room, Leilis doubted that she herself would even be visible to the prince’s eye. And if the prince happened to bring with him the foreign lord, Lord Chontas… She did not permit herself to consider whether she either wanted or did not want a renewed acquaintance with that one. She had not described the prior encounter to anyone. It had seemed too complicated. She did not know how to frame it even to herself, much less to anyone else, even if she’d been inclined to confide in anyone. Or had anyone in whom to confide.
Round white lanterns glowed in the slender branches of graceful trees along the river. The lanterns echoed the moon, which could be glimpsed now and then through long streamers of apricot and dusky-violet cloud.
With the lighting of the lanterns, the flower world itself came to life: Graceful keiso strolled along the riverside walks, accompanied by musicians and players of the candlelight district or by their patrons or keisonne. The musicians were often loud and the players flamboyant, but it was the keiso who drew the eye. It was neither their elegant overrobes nor their grace that produced this effect, or not wholly. It was that air of confidence they wore that proclaimed their quality as clearly as a herald might have announced it.
Leilis had had years to become resigned to the hopelessness of herself ever joining their privileged company. She no longer repined over the impossible. Now she stepped deliberately back into the intimate dining chamber and drew the curtains across the balcony entrance, shutting out the evening.
Prince Tepres had come alone to Cloisonné House. Well, as nearly alone as his father’s heir could manage. Only the dour Jeres Geliadde had accompanied him. Leilis did not allow herself to feel disappointment at the absence of the foreign lord.
Prince Tepres wore an understated dark overrobe that was almost as plain as his guard’s, with only a tracing of saffron and purple embroidery across his shoulders and on the cuffs of his sleeves. He had chosen well, Leilis admitted to herself. The severe plainness of his robe accented his pale hair and brought out his dark eyes. She suspected he knew it, too. Well, a king’s heir must learn such things, she supposed. A prince was surely as much on display as any keiso.
Moonflower wore a simple blue overrobe embroidered around the hem with leaves and dragonflies, and a jeweled dragonfly in her hair. Mother had, of course, chosen the robe and the jewel, and very appropriately. Though Leilis privately thought it would have mattered very little to the prince whether the girl wore a keiso robe or drab servant’s brown.
This evening Prince Tepres had chosen to soften his image to suit his company: He had brought Moonflower a kitten, which he was just now releasing from its basket. The creature was a soft silver color, with ripples of smoke-dark stripes showing through the silver when it moved and eyes as green as willow leaves.
The kitten had been a clever choice. It instantly gave prince and keiso a common source of merriment. Moonflower exclaimed over its soft fur, then set it down on the floor and laughed with delight as it pounced on her toes. Leilis was certain its claws had been carefully blunted before the prince had presented it; she knew from personal experience how easily sharp claws would go right through light house slippers.
“What is her name?” Moonflower asked the prince, kneeling down and wiggling her fingers in invitation. The kitten, accepting this enticement, flung itself flat on its side and tried to wrestle the girl’s hand into submission. Moonflower laughed.
“Moonglow,” answered Prince Tepres, leaning his hip against the table and smiling down at this charming picture. “For she so delightfully captures the soft beauty of the moon.”