The Truth-Teller's Tale by Sharon Shinn


  “Hold it up to your face,” I said, though I didn’t need to. I already thought it was a dreadful fabric for her, and the juxtaposition of skin and cloth only confirmed my impressions. I shook my head. “I think it makes you look like a ghost,” I said. “You need a fabric with a rosier tone to it.”

  Her mother was instantly antagonized. “It’s the most expensive silk in the shop!” she exclaimed. “Eileen deserves the best!”

  “Eileen deserves to look her best, too,” I said quietly. “But buy what you want.”

  Eileen instantly laid aside the fabric and turned to Lissette. “I don’t like it, either,” she said. “Let’s look at that figured silk again.”

  The Dawsons moved up to the front of the store to confer with Lissette. Gregory sidled my way. “And now I’m almost afraid to ask what you think of this green satin,” he said in an undervoice. “I’m certain you’ll say it’s too showy for Summermoon. Should I opt for blue instead?”

  I glanced at the bolts he indicated and smothered a laugh. They were both ghastly, the kind of cheap material you might use to line a cloak or a portmanteau, but not something most people would consider wearing. While his clothes were a touch outmoded, it was obvious they had once been of the highest pitch of fashion. I knew he was teasing me. “Why don’t you buy some of each?” I said warmly. “Then you’ll have a spare to wear if you spill something on one.”

  He grinned, but before he could answer, another young girl came out from the back room where I had once hidden while Roelynn and her father brangled. She was a year or two younger than I was, awkward and gangly, but her father was a wealthy Merendon landowner, and I knew she had been invited to Karro’s ball. I couldn’t remember her name, but I more or less liked her. She wore now a wide smile and a hopeful expression as she paraded up to me in a gown so new that it still had pins holding some of the seams together.

  “It’s Eleda, right? That’s what you told Eileen?” she asked. I nodded in confirmation, and she pressed on. “What do you think of my dress? Isn’t it beautiful?”

  It was, in fact, hideous. The cut was wrong for her, accentuating her bony shoulders and long, skinny arms, and the broad sash at the waist ended in a bow over her backside that did not enhance her body in the slightest. Her mother came trailing out behind her and cast me a rather frightened look. I read into that expression that she had tried to talk her daughter into something that would suit her better, but that her daughter had insisted on this cut, this color, and would be heartbroken now if anyone told her she had chosen wrongly. Plus, of course, the dress was nearly finished; there would be a great deal of expense involved if it was deemed improper now.

  “What beautiful fabric,” I said in an admiring voice, reaching out a hand to touch one of the ruched shoulders. It was a gorgeous fuchsia that went well with her rich coloring. “And look what highlights it brings out in your hair! I can tell you are very happy with this dress.”

  She laughed excitedly and spun around. Her mother mouthed the words “Thank you” at me. The girl said, “I’ll be the belle of Mr. Karro’s ball, don’t you think?”

  There was not a chance of that. Scores of young ladies would be at the ball, most of them more beautiful and sophisticated than this country nobody, but I had learned how to speak the truth with a modicum of tact. “I think there will be a lot of belles at this particular ball,” I said with a laugh. “But I’m sure plenty of young men will notice you.”

  “It’s my first ball,” she said.

  “I hope it’s wonderful,” I replied.

  I managed to pick up my purchases and get out of the shop before one more person approached and asked for an opinion. “Nicely done,” Gregory murmured as he took the bundles from my arms. He directed me toward a street vendor selling watery and rather warm lemonade. But the day was hot and I was thirsty and I was glad for the treat. Clearly in no hurry, Gregory then plopped down on a nearby bench, the parcels piled up next to him, so I perforce took a seat as well.

  For a moment, we sipped our drinks in silence. Then he said, “I can’t help but notice that your friend Roelynn has taken rather a liking to my young assistant. What do you think of that?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I laughed and then I sighed. “Well, it was inevitable that Roelynn would fall in love with Alexander,” I said.

  “How so?”

  I gestured with the hand that wasn’t holding the lemonade. “Roelynn always falls in love with the most unsuitable men in the vicinity. Grooms, coachmen, impoverished noblemen from Wodenderry whom she’ll never see once the season is over—it’s all the same to Roelynn. She falls in love with them all.”

  “It seems like a very uncomfortable way to live.”

  I laughed again. “Indeed it does! But I think Roelynn sees these forbidden romances as her one chance at—oh—rebellion and excitement. She knows that fairly soon her father will marry her off to someone important and titled, and she imagines her future as being insipid and circumscribed. So she’s wild now while she can be.”

  Gregory took a meditative swallow. “Does her father have any particular important and titled man in mind for his daughter?”

  “How can you have lived in Merendon even two weeks and not heard that gossip?” I wondered. “Practically since she was born, Karro has wanted to betroth her to the prince.”

  Gregory’s blue eyes grew very wide. “The prince? Prince Darian?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes. Karro and the queen have been in business, oh, five or more years—I believe she has granted him the largest shipping contracts in the kingdom—and ever since they first signed a paper, Karro has been scheming to get Roelynn engaged to Darian. None of us is privileged to hear the queen’s side of the story, of course, but in Merendon, speculation is that she is strongly considering the match. She’s invited Roelynn to the palace several times and been very attentive to her. Although that could just be because she is generally very kind, for a queen,” I added.

  He was instantly diverted. “You’ve met Queen Lirabel?” I nodded. “Yes, right after Princess Arisande was born. Adele and I were among the Truth-Tellers and Safe-Keepers who were allowed to come to the royal city and make our observations.”

  “And what did you think of the princess?”

  I laughed. “Well, she was a baby, after all. But I thought she seemed like she would grow up to be a very sweet girl. Has she?”

  “So far. She’s still pretty young, and very much indulged. But she seems most easygoing.”

  “Unlike the prince,” I said, remembering what I had said during that memorable audience.

  “You met Darian?” he asked, surprised.

  “Oh, no. He wasn’t there. I just go by general reports. And the fact that the queen’s advisor seemed amused when I said the prince might cause his mother some anxious moments. He seems to be full of deviltry.”

  “Yes, but for all his faults, Prince Darian is considered rather a beautiful young man,” Gregory said, returning to the main topic. “Roelynn has met him several times and still decided she’d rather marry an ostler or a guard?”

  “Not at all! They’ve never met! It’s the funniest thing. There have been three or four times the prince has been scheduled to be at an event, and some—some improbable excuse has kept him away. Roelynn is convinced he has a secret lover of his own and has no more desire to meet her than she has to meet him. I must say,” I added rather severely, “I don’t understand why Karro or the queen can’t let their children figure out for themselves whom they want to marry.”

  “The price of great power and riches,” Gregory said with a grin. “You represent not just yourself, but the hopes and dreams of your household or your kingdom. It’s one of the few reasons I’ve always been glad I wasn’t a very important man.”

  “I suppose. So even if this match with the prince doesn’t work out, Roelynn is fairly certain her father will want her to marry someone else dull and respectable. So she has her fun now.”

  “Roel
ynn doesn’t seem the type,” Gregory said cautiously, “to be forced into a marriage with anybody, no matter what her father says.”

  I laughed again at that. “You’re right. So maybe she’s just wild because she’s wild, and she’ll never marry to oblige her father. And Alexander is just one in a long line of harmless flirtations that she enjoys before she does something truly disgraceful.”

  “I have to think,” said Gregory, “that a girl so flighty would not be the most appropriate person to marry the prince. And be queen someday.”

  “Oh, she’d be a wonderful queen,” I said. I’d never really thought about it before, but the words came out of my mouth with conviction. “She’s run her father’s household since she was a little girl—and you should see the place, it’s spotless and so well organized. All her servants love her, all the tradesmen in Merendon love her—she has such a gaiety that it draws people to her, but she’s not . . . she’s not cheap about it. She doesn’t just pretend to like the people around her, she really does like them. She remembers birthdays and favorite colors. She’s incredibly loyal. She’s a good person in this sort of frivolous package. And she’s so beautiful. I think she’d be the most popular queen this country had ever had.”

  Gregory cocked his head to one side. “So, then, we should find some way to promote the match. We should thwart her romance with my apprentice.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said. “You’ll only be here a few more weeks, and then you’ll be gone. Roelynn will sigh for a month or two, and maybe send Alexander a few perfumed notes, and tell us how much she misses him, but—” I shrugged. “You’ll never come back here, she’ll never see him again, she’ll move on with her life. Fall in love with a farmer, maybe, or one of the jugglers who comes to town for next Summermoon.”

  He was watching me now, those bright eyes narrowed in speculation. “What makes you think we’d never come back to Merendon?” he asked.

  I was surprised. “I don’t—I just thought—won’t you be returning to Wodenderry whenever your current troubles are solved?”

  “Certainly, but that doesn’t mean we never plan to leave the city limits again,” he said. “Why shouldn’t we travel back here? We have a growing list of clients. They may need to refresh their skills before next Summermoon. Their sons and daughters who are too young to need instruction now may require some guidance in a year or two. And the queen is always importing new dances from foreign kingdoms,” he concluded with a smile. “Won’t the folk of Merendon want to learn those before they go off to the royal city and show themselves up as provincials?”

  Strange, it had not occurred to me that, once this season ended, I would ever see Gregory again. I had realized with some resignation that I thought him a delightful man, most entertaining and indubitably attractive, and I realized that I would be hard-pressed not to develop a hopeless affection for him. But I had not supposed it really mattered. He would leave Merendon, I would—like Roelynn—sigh for a few weeks, be convinced my heart was broken, wallow in a period of despair, and then eventually shake myself out of it and move on with my life.

  I had not contended with the thought that I might have to see him every year for an indefinite span of time, live under the same roof with him if he stayed at our inn, and watch him charm the young girls and put the young men at ease while the bouncy, tinny strains of the music box plucked out their melody behind him. I thought that might end up being a little too much for my heart to bear.

  It was now even more important that I not allow myself to fall in love with him.

  “Well,” I said, and my voice sounded a little scratchy and stiff. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure most of the people of Merendon would be happy to have you back again.”

  He grinned at me as if he realized just how close I skated to a lie. “So tell me,” he invited. “What marvelous new sartorial creations did we just pick up at the dressmaker’s shop? What will you be wearing to the Summermoon ball?”

  I hate to admit it, but I tittered. I hate people who titter. I even hate the word titter. But there was no other appropriate response. “Oh, I’m not going to the ball!”

  He stared. “Not? Of course you are. You and Adele are Roelynn’s best friends.”

  “We’re an innkeeper’s daughters,” I explained. “Only the landowners and the merchants and their families will be going. And the wealthier families from nearby cities and a few visitors from Wodenderry,” I added.

  Gregory was outraged at my words. I was astonished at his outrage. “But that’s—that’s ridiculous! That’s so elitist and pointless! Perhaps he might not invite every trades-man’s daughter in Merendon, but—and, damn it, why shouldn’t he invite every trademan’s daughter in Merendon? Every one of them ought to be allowed to attend the ball! To dress up as fancy as she pleases and look absolutely beautiful—every young woman deserves a chance for that.”

  “And every young man,” I added a little dryly, “or there will be no one for the girls to dance with.”

  He seemed truly angry now. “I mean, who is this Karro, anyway? He’s just some backwater shipping merchant who’s got more money than the queen herself, but that doesn’t make him better than his fellows and neighbors. And he thinks his daughter deserves to marry the prince? And he can’t even show a little generosity to his city?”

  I was laughing. “It’s not worth all this posturing,” I said lightly. “None of the tradesmen’s daughters expect to be invited. We have more fun, anyway, during Summermoon, visiting the fairs and hearing the singers and going to the plays—” I had to stop for a moment and collect myself. The words almost scalded as they came out of my mouth. Well, I had once enjoyed going to the plays, but I hadn’t attempted such entertainment in two years. Couldn’t imagine I would want to any time in the near future. “We don’t expect such honors,” I resumed quietly. “We understand our place in the city. In the society.”

  “Well, it makes me furious,” he said, and crossed his arms on his chest.

  I could not keep a sardonic note from my voice. “Oh, and I suppose, there in Wodenderry, you and Alexander get invited to all the queen’s events,” I said. “I suppose all the great ladies you instruct in the quadrille and the polonaise want you at their parties to mingle with their guests as equals.”

  For an instant, his face wore a startled expression, and then his eyes narrowed. I saw a look of extreme wariness settle over his features. I knew instantly that he was trying to decide how to phrase something so that I wouldn’t think he was lying.

  “I’ve been at some events hosted by the nobility,” he said carefully. “I have—it seems as if I’ve fallen on harder times now, but I have some connections. My relations are not wholly despised. If someone needs an extra man at the table or someone has found me entertaining enough, I am invited to attend some fairly grand functions.”

  I listened carefully, but nothing in his reply sounded false. But I could tell he was picking his way around pitfalls. “Then I suppose you’ve been invited to Karro’s ball as well?” I asked sweetly.

  “Oh, no!” he said cheerfully. “Though Alexander seems to think that Roelynn will try to wangle us invitations. But I don’t want to go.”

  “Why not?”

  He grimaced. “Too many people from Wodenderry there. Exactly the people I least want to see. Roelynn provided a guest list the other day, and Alexander and I were both horrified. Though Alexander,” he added in some bitterness, “seems to be ready to throw caution to the winds. I think if Roelynn secures him an invitation, he’ll go, whether or not it means he’ll spend the evening ducking the most unpleasant set of pompous fools you’d ever hope to meet this side of Lowford.”

  “And now that you put me in mind of it,” I said in a scolding voice, “I don’t know why you should be calling Roelynn flighty when your own apprentice is at least as unsteady as she is.”

  He grinned unexpectedly. Really, he was a handsome man in general, but when a smile lit his face, he was almost irresis
tible. “Alexander is a scamp,” he admitted. “No harm in him that I’ve seen, but not much seriousness either. He’s as bad as Prince Darian, and I’m sure you’ve heard tales about him.”

  “Indeed, we all have.”

  “Alexander’s mother is in despair, wondering what reckless thing he’ll do next.”

  “Is that why she apprenticed him to you?”

  “Oh, she thinks I’m responsible for half his misdeeds, which I assure you is not true! I’ve pulled him out of more scrapes than she even knows about. But she’s not entirely thrilled to see him spending so much time with me. I only make her worry more.”

  “Perhaps if you had a profession more—substantial—than dance instruction,” I said.

  “More respectable, you mean? What would you suggest?”

  “Well, I have to confess, I’m not really sure what noblemen do to earn money. I thought they always just inherited it.”

  “I could gamble for a living,” he said, seeming to think it over. “That’s considered respectable. All the nobles gamble, and most of them are disastrous at it. But I don’t win as often as I’d like, in general, which is why I haven’t really pursued it as a career option. I could mark the cards, maybe. That would give me an edge.”

  “I can’t imagine that Alexander’s mother would think that was an improvement over dancing.”

  “No,” he agreed. “And I’ve no head for figures, so I could hardly be some rich man’s bookkeeper. And my handwriting isn’t legible, even to the people who love me most, so I could hardly be a great man’s secretary. Not interested in commerce. Fatigued by the very thought of farming.” He shook his head. “No, my list of choices is very short.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re as given over to triviality as your apprentice,” I said with mock sternness.

  He smiled down at me. Devastating. “You know what I’d really like?” he said, and he actually sounded sincere. “I’d like your father’s job. Running some sort of lodgings in a big town like Merendon. Making people feel welcome. Offering a valuable service and doing it well. I’ve stayed at more than a hundred inns from one end of the kingdom to another, and I’ve never liked one half so well as the Leaf and Berry. You can ask Alexander. More than one morning, I’ve gotten up and said, ‘I’m not leaving this place.’ ”

 
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