Bound. Jen Colly

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СКАЧАТЬ had been. She didn’t gossip, she didn’t mingle, and she certainly didn’t give a damn about whose son made Guardian first. With Arianne, what you saw was exactly what you got. She was a ruler through and through, with no patience for nonsense.

      Captain Rye followed on the lady’s heels, and when she paused at Cleopatra’s table, the captain pulled out a chair. Gentleman to the core. Cleopatra liked the captain, mostly because he allowed them to chat as they pleased. He’d raised an eyebrow a time or two at their conversations, but never opened his mouth to impose.

      “Lady Arianne,” she said, dutifully greeting her as lady rather than friend. “Captain.”

      Neither had a chance to respond as two servants rushed in, each bringing a plate full of food. The plate had barely touched the table and already the captain attacked the chunks of fruit with his fork.

      When the second servant approached Arianne, she waved her off, producing a tea bag from a hidden pocket in her gown. She took Cleopatra’s teapot, poured the piping hot water into her cup, and waited, hands folded on the table.

      Cleopatra leaned over, whispered to Arianne, “You haven’t taken first meal in two days. I know. I’ve waited for you. And now that you’re here, you’re not eating. What’s going on?”

      The lady lifted her chin. “I’ve already eaten.”

      “Liar.” Cleopatra sent her a quick sideways glance. “I can hear your stomach growling. Very unladylike.”

      “What I eat is my choice, not yours. I want tea.” Arianne lifted her teacup and took a sip as if to emphasize her point.

      “You don’t like tea,” Cleopatra said, masking her amusement with a polite smile. “You prefer coffee.”

      “Show me how to stash coffee in my pocket, and I won’t have to choke down this tea just to catch a spare moment with you,” Arianne muttered, then suddenly turned to face her. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but are we really still tiptoeing around your father after all these years?”

      Cleopatra glanced away, wishing, as she often did, that she possessed Arianne’s strength. “It’s easier than dealing with his anger.”

      Arianne gently laid her hand on Cleopatra’s arm.

      “I’m not here to talk about him.” Cleopatra smiled and straightened in her chair, ready to breeze past the subject of her father. “I’m concerned for you. This is the third night you haven’t eaten.”

      “I…” Arianne faltered, her words momentarily lost. She stared into her teacup. “My favorite chef is on holiday.”

      “Holiday? But why would…” Dear Lord, were the rumors true? Cleopatra lowered her voice. “Several years ago you disappeared for weeks, and when you returned, you looked so very…”

      “Unhealthy?” Arianne supplied with a sour twist to her lips.

      Cleopatra nodded. “I never asked you. Were you truly poisoned?”

      “One of the few rumors about me that were true.” Arianne cleared her throat. “Ready to move past my lack of food?”

      “Would you prefer to discuss dead prisoners and dismissed councilmen?” Cleopatra said with a sly smile. “I’m all ears.”

      “Heard about that, did you?” Arianne glanced around, and verifying that all others were out of earshot. “Be my council for a moment, then. As a citizen of Galbraith, what concerns you more? Rumors of demons in Paris, or a prisoner found murdered in his cell instead of at the hand of the High Justice?”

      “Murdered prisoner, most definitely. Was it a Guardian, do you think?” Cleopatra asked, but before the lady could answer, she continued. “I heard the prisoner intended to murder you. Is that true?”

      “Yes,” Arianne whispered behind her teacup. “He made quite the effort.”

      “Then I amend my answer.” There was a depressing amount of evil in the world, and a frighteningly large portion of it seemed aimed at Arianne. “That he died in a sealed and protected cell concerns me, however his death does not. I don’t care by whose hand he died. His death was warranted.”

      “You condone such an act when it was done outside our laws?”

      “He would have been executed in a day or two, anyway. The time or place doesn’t matter. Not to mention…oh, no,” Cleopatra said when she caught sight of the young girl eying them from across the room. Of all the irritating people with poor timing, it had to be her. She bumped Arianne’s leg and sent her a warning whisper, “Melisande.”

      “Poor thing. I think the hair is her mother’s doing,” Arianne said as the young woman bounced their way.

      At sixteen years, Melisande Legard was too old to bounce. Nevertheless, she did, all the way to their table where she stopped abruptly and tipped her head to her shoulder. Her long, dark hair had been curled into tight ringlets and pinned back just above her ears. With a permanent smile on her face, Melisande curtsied in her pink, tea-length dress, complete with puffy skirt. A creepy, giant doll come to life.

      “Melisande,” Cleopatra said, the exchange of pleasantries second nature. “So nice to see you.”

      “Mother is sending invitations, of course, but I wanted to ask you in person,” Melisande said in a rush, then fell silent. Seconds passed. Had she forgotten her purpose?

      “Invitations for what?” Cleopatra prompted the girl.

      “Mother is hosting a masquerade for me in two weeks. Will you attend?” she asked, a giddy grin on her face. When she didn’t get a response, Melisande tacked on, “Lady Arianne?”

      Lady Arianne spoke through her false smile. “I can’t imagine finding a costume ridiculous enough in only two weeks time.”

      “But she will try,” Cleopatra promised quickly with a cheery smile.

      “Oh, thank you,” Melisande said, dropping into a choppy curtsy. “And you must come too, Cleopatra. My brother will be so disappointed if you don’t.”

      “I’ll be there. I promise.” She and Arianne kept smiles plastered to their faces as Melisande practically hopped back to her mother.

      Arianne cringed. “You’ll be the reason I start slipping brandy into my tea.”

      “I’m surprised you haven’t already,” Cleopatra said with a winning smile she hid behind her cup.

      “Dreadful child. I’m certain she plans on forcing us to listen to her play piano for hours on end. Thank goodness she’s not as awful as her brother.” Arianne winced. “It’s been years and my ears still hurt.”

      Cleopatra giggled at the blatant truth. “Be kind. Baron is my friend.”

      “Friend indeed.” Arianne rolled her eyes. “If your mother has anything to do with the matter, you’ll be attached to your friend permanently.”

      Cleopatra lifted her teacup to her lips, and prior to taking a sip, murmured, “I know you loathe marriage, but Baron would make a good husband.”

      Arianne СКАЧАТЬ