‘I’ve heard that too. Even my parents have heard those rumours.’ Dorian said.

  ‘I think everyone has.’ Julietta said firmly. ‘Now, perhaps we should gossip about something else?’

  Nothing that had been revealed had been very helpful. Julietta could think of little that would help them. Even if Alexandre and the King were at odds, would that matter to them? Would they be able to use it to get Jacques to leave Asmara alone? No. She glanced towards Asmara, who was gazing out of the window, a fixed smile on her face. There was nothing she could do to help Asmara, nothing Bo could do and nothing Dorian could do.

  CHAPTER 18

  26 Fevror, 1353

  Emerré sat perfectly still. Her eyes were fixed not on her own image, reflected in the large, oval mirror before her but on that of her husband as he gently pulled the brush through her hair.

  Reluctantly, Cadel placed the brush down on the dark, mahogany vanity. He gathered her hair in his hands and then wrapped his arms around her. ‘Emerré, we should fire the servants. They are all rude to you, you do not deserve to be talked about in that way, not ever, and especially not in our own home.’

  ‘Cadel,’ Emerré said gently, one hand going to his shoulder as he held her, ‘I do not know how to cook or clean, and though I would learn for you and your cooking is delicious, I would rather put up with the servants so that we may spend our time together, not on chores.’

  Cadel grumbled and buried his face in her neck.

  ‘And we will be having a baby soon, my dear.’

  ‘You deserve better.’ he murmured. ‘I don’t understand why they’re so rude, and I don’t care whatever reasons they have, it’s not right.’

  ‘As long as they do their work, they may think what they like of me.’

  ‘You are too kind, my love.’ but he stood up and gathered her hair in his hands again. He suddenly frowned and then picked up the brush again. ‘I will braid your hair for you, they don’t deserve to touch it.’

  Emerré said nothing and watched in mute amusement as her husband struggled with her long hair, the brush and hair pins. When he was done he stepped back, a frown on his handsome face. Emerré turned her head one way and then the other so she could see her hair in the mirror. The braid was rather loose.

  ‘You have done a lovely job. Thank you, darling-’ she said, about to get up and begin her day.

  ‘No,’ Cadel exclaimed, and gently pushed her back down onto the seat. ‘No, Emerré, you are too kind to me, but I won’t make you go out with your hair messy. You’re always so neat and perfect.’

  ‘It is your work, Cadel, and so it is perfect for me.’

  He started pulling the pins and clasps out of her hair and began brushing it again. Emerré watched his face in the mirror, a smile playing on her lips. Truly, she did not mind. She enjoyed having Cadel brush her hair, and had never been concerned with her appearance anyway. Most of what she did was a habit, ingrained in her by a proper and strong-minded mother. Her mother had given her a sense of her duty to her family, which included behaving in a way appropriate for the grand-daughter of a duke, a direct descendent of the ancient kings of Belcanon. Even after the shadow magic had cloaked her in indifference, she had still gone through the motions of dressing and acting appropriately out of habit. It was easier for her; it gave her rules to follow that would smooth the tedious business of having a physical body, for if she really had to think about how to dress she likely would have forgotten halfway through, so indifferent did she eventually become to it all.

  That had all changed now, and her eyes flicked to the wardrobe where she had hidden a new dress she had specifically bought from Walmon. She was nervously looking forward to wearing it for Cadel.

  Cadel caught her smile and flashed her a smile in response, his eyes lighting up, ‘I’m glad I’m entertaining you, my love.’

  Emerré’s smile widened and at his encouraging smile it grew into a stifled giggle and then a laugh. Cadel dropped the brush and enveloped her in a tight hug, which grew into a kiss.

  ‘Perhaps tomorrow you will do my hair for me, darling.’ he murmured.

  Emerré ran a hand through his short hair and said, ‘my dear, I don’t think I have ever seen you brush it.’

  ‘I do, when you’re not looking.’

  When Cadel finished re-brushing her hair he opened the door and allowed one of the maids, Lucine, to enter. Cadel insisted on doing most of the tidying of their private chambers, and Lucine was one of the few servants he grudgingly allowed to enter.

  ‘Shall I do your hair for you, Lady Emerré?’ the young woman said in her quiet voice, one eye on Cadel who was watching her with suspicion in his eyes. She was a recent addition to their household, and had not yet proven herself to, or disappointed, Cadel.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Lucine.’ Emerré replied.

  As Lucine started braiding her hair she said, ‘your hair is very silky today, my lady. I am pleased your lord is doing a good job at brushing it. Such beautiful hair requires careful tending.’

  At the compliment to Emerré Cadel relaxed slightly and came over, ‘I am always careful with Emerré. I would braid it as well, but I did a poor job, it was harder than I thought.’

  Lucine glanced at Cadel out of the corner of an eye. ‘I could show you how to braid it, if you like, sir.’

  Cadel agreed immediately, his eyes alight.

  Emerré sat patiently through the lesson, and neither Lucine or Cadel were inclined to ask if she minded having her hair braided and re-braided. Emerré was finally allowed to go free about the same time lunch was called. Cadel escorted her to the dining room, one arm linked through hers. When they arrived in the room a dark-haired, well-fed man was awaiting them.

  ‘I was wondering when I’d see you two.’ he said, his eyebrows raised. ‘I thought you’d forgotten about me.’

  Cadel looked confused, ‘Belix? When did you return?’

  ‘A few hours ago! Did no one tell you? Don’t answer, I don’t think I want to know.’

  Cadel took a seat across from Belix, Emerré sitting next to her husband.

  ‘How was your trip?’ Emerré asked politely.

  ‘Lanfair’s a lovely city, it reminds me of home. I can see that it was built by the Walmese during the Imperial period. The library was excellent.’ Belix replied. ‘Though I suppose it has been in decline since the capital moved south to Beloire. Nearly everyone I met said the capital would be moving back, now that the land south of Belcanon has been given to the Sontmor family.’

  ‘That was over one hundred years ago.’ Emerré replied, ‘and people have been saying that for as long as I’ve lived. Perhaps it would be more convenient being closer to Manus and Allonce, but I do not think the capital will be moving back to Lanfair anytime soon, and certainly not while my grandfather still lives. He is too fond of Beloire.’

  ‘It all seems rather awkward, having titles pass on while the old duke still lives.’

  ‘My grandfather is quite old now, Belix, though his mind is as sharp as ever he is quite weak. Even if the title had not passed on, my uncle would be ruling Belcanon in all but name. It is common practice in Mance-Jolune for the title to pass on when the title holder can no longer fulfill their responsibilities.’

  ‘I wonder where the tradition came from. In Walmon the title passes on at death, the same in Lakasha. Perhaps it comes from before Walmon conquered this area.’

  ‘If so then I’m afraid you will have some trouble finding out, as you know the Walmese Empire introduced writing to the old Manunian tribes, they passed on everything orally.’

  ‘Indeed, but perhaps some scholars recorded the habits of the tribes, though any such texts would be very old. Before I forget, I brought you back something! For you too Cadel,’ Belix said as the other man shot him a dark look, ‘they had some Walmese iced juices in Lanfair, and Cadel told me you enjoy them, Emerré.’

  ‘Thank you, Belix, that was very thoughtful. Cadel introduced me to some of the Walmese refreshments. They are a pleasant change from lemon scented water.’

  Belix smiled. ‘I’m glad. Anyway, how have you been?’

  ‘One of Emerré’s friends came to visit last week.’ Cadel replied and his expression darkened. ‘The war with Lakasha again.’

  ‘Really? Surely it is just posturing?’

  ‘It is concerning they would bother looking for Asmara,’ Emerré said quietly, ‘Blaise should be enough for anyone...’

  ‘I would have thought with a shadow mage peace could be more easily reached.’ Belix replied.

  ‘King Theuder and Emperor Salamah presumably wear their candles at all times, so Blaise cannot tell our sovereign what theirs truly thinks.’

  ‘But surely no one in Mance-Jolune wants war with Lakasha, and vice versa. Would not shadow magic reveal that?’

  ‘Perhaps. But fear is a powerful motivator, if the thought had occurred, yet not been seriously considered, a shadow mage would find it. It is likely Blaises’ clients do not understand the distinction, or their fear of the Lakashan empire prevents them from understanding it. There may also be some who already hope for war, and merely need an excuse and care not whether the threat is serious.’

  Alarmed, Belix said, ‘then you should tell Blaise all this!’

  ‘Belix, there is nothing I can tell Blaise he does not already know. Besides, he has far more experience explaining what he finds to those without shadow magic than I do, I never sold my power as he does.’

  ‘But, if there is war! It is unlikely it would reach Walmon, I don’t think we would weigh in on either side, but still, think of how many thousands would die!’

  ‘It is hard to see how Mance-Jolune or Lakasha would benefit from war with each other. We are too equal. It is foolish to think that even if we conquered part of Lakasha, that we would be able to hold it for any serious length of time, though fear and greed can make fools of reasonable men. If the King of Mance has decided to go to war, there is nothing Blaise or I can do.’ she said and took a sip of water. She placed the glass back down. ‘I thought it just empty words, but perhaps I was mistaken... I would like to speak to the lords of Belcanon, I think, to hear what they know. It seems this talk of war may be more serious than we originally thought.’

  ‘You mean like attend a... a party?’ Belix looked disbelieving. He glanced quickly at Cadel.

  ‘That would be the quickest. I will write to accept the invitation of the Count of Naïs.’ Emerré received many invitations to various events, as was expected. Most, she turned down. Neither she nor Cadel had much interest in them. Despite her lands and residence, which were part of her dowry, being within Monbier, the home of the Count of Naïs was closer to her than that of her parents. ‘I will write to my family as well at Castle Monbier and Beloire.’

  Cadel clasped her hand, worry etched on his face.

  Emerré turned and looked at herself in the mirror, a frown on her face at her svelte figure. She’d had the dress brought from Walmon, then altered by her dress-maker, and it fit her well. It was blue silk and was not layered like the dresses common in Mance-Jolune.

  ‘My,’ she murmured, ‘I would not expect something so thin from Walmon.’ Despite the fact that Walmon was further north, it was much higher in altitude than Mance-Jolune and generally much colder. The mountains of Walmon dwarfed even the Soularac, the highest peak of Mance-Jolune. ‘Perhaps it is only worn in the summer months?’

  Though it had long sleeves, and not a deep neck-line, the way it clung to her made her feel exposed.

  ‘Darling?’ Cadel called from outside, ‘can I come in?’

  He was not used to being evicted from their room while she changed, and had looked plaintive when she closed the door in his face.

  ‘Yes.’ she decided. ‘I need your opinion on something.’

  Cadel opened the door and came to a halt, his eyes on her. Slowly, he closed the door behind him.

  Seeing his expression Emerré said nervously, ‘I brought it from Walmon for you, I had hoped to surprise you, but I am not sure about it, am I wearing it right?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ was all he said before suddenly pulling her to him and kissing her.

  ‘Cadel!’ she gasped, pulling back as he started undoing the pearl buttons at the back of the dress. ‘Belix is waiting for us-’

  He stared at her a moment before going to the door and calling out to one of the servants, ‘tell Lord Belix to go on ahead, we’ll meet him there.’ Then he turned his full attention back to his wife.

  The Count of Naïs’ castle sat atop a low hill, overlooking a small town. The main building was surrounded by rolling lawns. As the castle wall was at the base of the hill, the party guests could easily see out over the wall and into the town and surrounding countryside. The ballroom was high-ceilinged and decorated in a simple but elegant style. The panels making up the west and east walls had been rolled back and the room was open to the night. A cool breeze whispered through, keeping the warm night pleasant. The castle keep and main rooms, Belix had noticed, were entirely separated from this nearly indefensible room, which from the look and state of the architecture, was a recent addition to the castle.

  Currently the ballroom was filled with Counts and Countesses, Barons and Baronesses, and their offspring. Light chatter and the rustling of skirts filled the air. In the corner of the room a quartet of musicians strummed their instruments gently. Food had been served, and after there had been dancing. That was all finished now and the guests talked and laughed amongst themselves.

  It was with annoyance and relief that Belix finally saw Emerré and Cadel enter the ballroom, having already missed the dancing. Belix had had an awkward, embarrassing time, knowing no one at the ball and having no one to make introductions for him. Cadel, at least, looked in a good mood. Cadel had been particularly tense with him lately, for no reason Belix could discern. They had been friends in Walmon, and for a few years attended the same school of wizardry. It was Emerré who had invited him to visit them in Belcanon.

  ‘You’re looking frowny.’ Cadel greeted him.

  Belix’s frown deepened and he turned his attention instead to Emerré, who was dressed elegantly in a purple dress trimmed with silver embroidery in the style currently popular in Mance-Jolune. The dark colours she often wore suited her complexion well. Cadel wore a fashionable blue dinner jacket with silver buttons, the cuffs neatly arranged. As always, he dressed to complement his wife.

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t learnt much,’ he said to her, his voice tense.

  ‘Oh! I am sorry Belix, I didn’t think of it.’

  ‘Why should you have thought of anything?’ Cadel murmured.

  Pretending she hadn’t heard, though a light blush coloured her cheeks, she said, ‘I must introduce you to the Count, Belix. Cadel, you and I must greet him as well.’

  With Lady Emerré Albier to make introductions for him, the night proceeded smoothly. After greeting the Count, Cadel left Emerré’s side to go make conversation on his own. It was a habit he had that Belix found perplexing, though Emerré didn’t seem the least bit phased.

  ‘I think I will go keep an eye on him.’ Belix murmured, taking his leave from Emerré also.

  Away from Emerré, Cadel was charming and witty, and he was soon surrounded by a group of laughing young men and woman. Belix only listened to the words with half an ear, most of his attention was on Cadel. He had known Cadel for many years and could easily pick up the tension in his body and the angry sparkle to his eyes. No one else noticed, they never did, and he failed to understand why Cadel pretended.

  ‘Are you a close friend of Master Vayles?’ A young woman with long eyelashes asked Belix.

  Belix shot a quick glance at Cadel, but the other man did not correct the woman, and so he didn’t either. ‘We have known each other a while.’

  ‘Hmm... Lord Belix Walader, if you excuse me for saying so, Belix does not sound very Walmese.’

  ‘My mother was from Mance-Jolune.’

  ‘How do you know Master Vayles?’

  ‘We went to school together, though my family moved away so I didn’t complete my schooling with him.’

  ‘Oh, are you a wizard too?’

  ‘I am trained, but Cadel is much more powerful than I, and I am more interested in history than magic.’

  ‘Belix wants to be a scholar.’ Cadel finally added, smiling at the woman. ‘He prefers to read books than do magic.’

  ‘Wants to be?’ Belix demanded.

  ‘Your eyesight is perfect, Belix, so clearly you haven’t read enough books to qualify.’ he said, and the young woman laughed delightedly.

  ‘Magic is so interesting.’ she said, her eyes fixed on Cadel. ‘Lady Emerré is very lucky to have married you.’

  ‘Well, actually,’ another young man in the group piped up, ‘as Master Vayles has as much noble blood in him as the musicians over there, I think he is very lucky to have married Lady Emerré!’

  Cadel laughed, and said, ‘I agree entirely!’

  The woman pouted and said, ‘tell me about Walmon, it always sounds so romantic!’

  Belix at that point decided to depart and find Emerré. While Cadel entertained the young lords and ladies at the ball, Emerré was talking with their fathers and mothers about the possibility of war.

  ‘I must introduce you to my cousin! Lady Emerré Vayles, this is Lord-’

  ‘Albier.’ Emerré said coolly. ‘My name is Emerré Albier-Vayles.’

  The man paled. ‘What?’

  ‘And you may refer to my husband as Master Cadel Vayles-Albier.’

  ‘You kept...your own name?’

  ‘I would have thought something like that would be well known by now.’

  ‘I had heard a rumour but I didn’t believe-’

  ‘Now you know the rumour is true, you may refer to myself and my husband correctly. Lord Bellamy, I believe we met at my brother’s wedding.’