CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"I think you should follow your instincts," said Eran. He threw a stone out toward the waves; it skipped, then splashed and sunk beneath the surface of the water. I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them.
"But what if I don't know what that is?"
"Then maybe you should try listening."
That was always his answer. "I've tried that. I'm still confused. You're better at this than I am; why don't you just come up to the palace, meet her, and tell me whether she's actually a threat or not?"
"You'd ignore whatever I have to say," he said. "Anyway, it's a skill you need to learn and there's no time like the present."
It was useless; I gave up. He wasn't going to come deal with Rochelle for me, and I was in no mood to listen. What with one thing and another, I had been completely unable to hear anything but the trees since Rochelle had arrived. Even Marea was silent. Eran's advice had been to stop worrying, but that was easier said than done. I kept running into the woman at all times and places, and in addition had to contend with mealtimes. She almost always joined us, and lately Mensonge had taken to sitting in between her and I. His keeping her away from me was appreciated, but for some reason or other his being close to her made me nervous.
Late that night, I snuck down to Ancora Cove. It was probably unwise, what with the danger everyone claimed I was in. As usual, I was too annoyed with life to care. The sand was still warm, and I cuddled my bare feet into it. A breeze coming from behind and scented with flowers played with my hair, and I settled in and started listening. After a while, a few voices finally came on the wind.
We need to replace some of the zucchini with tomatoes next year; this stuff grows like a weed!
Oh, you're just saying that.
What did you think of his lecture? I found it riveting.
Where's the butter?
Ooh, look at the moon, isn't it lovely?
The thing about sea turtles is…
I caught a one more line: I don't mean to be offensive, dear, but pink looks appalling on you, and in response, an exclamation of Mother! in that tone that transcends all time and space, and then it all faded into the soft meaningless whisper of the breeze.
I stayed there, looking out at the water. A few more voices surfaced.
I'm just doing what you told me to.
Remember what I said.
You cannot honestly believe that!
These seemed vaguely familiar. The last had definitely belonged to Pearl. I strained to hear more, and, naturally, everything fell silent. By the time I had relaxed enough to listen, the conversation had changed. I clung to the first familiar sounds. It was Pearl and Ryne without question; they must be outside somewhere.
Do you really think she's forgotten?
Of course not, Ryne said. I'm not such a fool as you seem to think. But I ---
Did I say I thought you were a fool?
No, but that was certainly the implication. I was going to say that I think she's realized how weak her position ultimately is and isn't going to make any stupid moves.
There was a silence. I thought I'd lost the thread of breeze their words were floating down to me on, but after a moment, Pearl's voice rose again.
Ryne, this is our daughter. I don't know if you forget the past or just choose to ignore it, but this isn't a game. The woman has attempted murder; Roberto is dead thanks to her and I can guarantee you that Lisette has not forgotten it.
Oh, yes, I've heard all of Lisette's theories. But I maintain, as I have since the beginning, that if we keep our distance and maintain a polite front this entire visit will go off without complications.
But ---
She's dangerous! I know that!
Hush! Do you want everyone to hear you? There's no need to yell.
It seems sometimes that that's the only way you'll listen to me.
There was another long pause. I had to focus to keep listening. Finally:
I'm going to bed.
Wait, Pearl. I didn't… Pearl!
And then they faded out completely and didn't return; they must have gone inside. My listening skills were not so developed as to penetrate stone, not yet. I exhaled deeply. Great. Well, maybe Grethel was right. Ryne certainly wasn't looking at Rochelle, but she had managed to fluster him anyway, if only through his wife. Oh, well, it couldn't last forever. Still, I decided --- not for the first time --- that my birthday and her resultant departure couldn't come soon enough.
I took a deep breath of the cool night air. The scent of petunias wafted towards me from the hanging baskets beside the fountain, from which water cascaded up and down in a glowing spray. The lights that illuminated it were bright white, and cast strange shadows through the pool. A few coins glinted at the tiled bottom; that particular tradition had made its way to Merlana in the distant past. Here, however, I suspected that the wishes cast with the coins were more likely to come true. Everything was more likely to come true in Merlana; it was as close to perfection here as any place could be.
Mensonge had asked me after dinner to meet him here at ten. It was nine-thirty. I had come down early to enjoy the cool night air and free myself from Lisette, who had started to try her warnings again. I sat down on the stone edge of the fountain and took a deep breath. I had been practicing listening to things the past few days, and, though I hadn't caught Ryne and Pearl arguing again, I had been able to slip into the sounds easily and could separate layers. I caught the voices in the fountain. Marea cast her influence through it, and I could hear her voice singing something faint and lovely. The petunias were quietly talking amongst themselves. Flowers never had much to say; like fruits, vegetables, and most small plants, they didn't have real awareness and personality. They simply channeled the thoughts in the wind. Flowers tended to catch women's voices, fruits caught children's, vegetables caught men's, and everything else caught the thoughts and words of animals and trees.
My own thoughts had been caught by the voices of those humans in the area. Some couple was walking somewhere near the rose gardens. I smiled; that was probably where Mensonge was going to take me. He'd done that before. These two were murmuring sweet nothings; not particularly interesting. I would hear some of my own soon.
Stop here, said a voice. My heart skipped a beat; it was him. The sound was coming from the gardens, but away from the other couple. I smoothed down my skirt and was in the process of tucking a strand of hair behind my ear when I caught a reply.I froze. That voice, too, was unmistakable. Sweet, elegant, smooth, and Desviadan. My ears strained for more; the sound faded. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. A moment later, Mensonge spoke again.
I do only as you ask, my lady.
And you do it well. She was practically purring. Of course, your manifold charms gave me little reason to doubt, but you have so far succeeded beyond my wildest expectations.
She is naïve, he said. A mere child.
Woman enough.
Yes, woman enough. There was a silence, and then he said in a lower tone, But nothing compared to you.
She laughed. Save the sweet words for… later.
Later? His tone was hopeful.
\Come to my quarters after you have finished with the princess, she said. Let no one see you… but I do not need to tell you that.
I should think not.
Go. Work your magic, then come back to me.
I always shall.
The words faded as my head began to reel. This was… it was… I didn't have the words to figure out what it was. My stomach had clenched and was slowly turning to rock in my stomach.
Mensonge. Rochelle. Together. Like… that.
I sank slowly down onto the edge of the pool. The sight of the mundane-looking stone beneath my feet filled my vision and mind, crowding out the more unpleasant thoughts. There were footsteps. I looked up, and saw with a blank detachment Mensonge coming towards me. He didn't seem to notice the extreme preoccupation on my part, and held out his hand to help me up. I stood.
"Darling, you're all wet," he said, glancing at the rim of the fountain. I blinked and tried to gather my thoughts.
"No," I said. "It just looks damp, I'm quite dry."
"That I am glad to hear." He kissed me. I let him; somehow or other my lips responded. The honey taste was there again. It was soothing, but as soon as he pulled away, the unsettled feelings returned.
"What's the matter?" he asked. I shook my head. The wheels in my brain had started to move again, and the only idea that stayed in my mind was that I had to keep up the pretense. Some part of myself recognized that I was not in a state to make any decisions, and that I had to keep him from knowing what I knew. It was a cold, rational side of my mind, and I let it take over. He was looking at me intently with those dark eyes of his. I straightened.
"Nothing," I said. A smile slipped itself over my features. "It's been a long day. Lisette's been pestering me again. I'm glad to see you."
"And I you. Shall we go for a walk? I have a surprise."
I nodded and took the arm he offered. My body found its usual place close to him and maintained the usual flirtatious sway my hips took when he was around. We went into the gardens; the scent of roses was overpowering. It seemed sickly tonight, too sweet, too much. He plucked a blossom and handed it to me, and I managed to smell it and look pleased. After a few minutes in the flower-filled labyrinth, we turned a corner and came upon a table, set for two, with white candles softly glowing over golden candlesticks and cut crystal goblets. A bottle of wine stood in the center of the table next to a vase of flowers and small platter of sugar-covered pastries.
"Oh, Mensonge!" I gushed. "It's lovely!"
He pulled out my chair for me and nuzzled the back of my neck as I sat. The touch was warm. Perhaps I had misheard. He certainly was acting as though he loved me, wasn't he? He took a few steps away, and I shook my head slightly. I was being an idiot; even I could tell that the conversation earlier was nothing good.
"I'll be right back," he said. "I have another surprise."
He disappeared behind a rose-draped wall. As he moved away, I could feel both whatever sympathy I had with him fading. He returned a moment later. I noticed with bemusement that the closer he came, the more I felt like forgiving and forgetting. It was a strange, yo-yoing emotion. I took note of it, and then was distracted as he handed a small box to me. I panicked for a moment, fearing that a ring might be inside and wondering how I'd avoid an engagement without raising his suspicions --- his behavior over the past weeks had led such a scenario well within the bounds of probability --- but when I opened the box, I found only a beautiful necklace folded inside with large opals in heavy gold settings. I beamed.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" I said. He took it gently from the box and fastened it around my neck. The moment the metal touched my skin, I felt a tingling warmth that spread through my body. It was a perfect evening, Mensonge was perfect, and I was blissfully happy. This time the feeling stayed. Why had I been so upset earlier? I was just overreacting like the silly girl I was. Mensonge hadn't done anything wrong, and he was a dear for bringing me such a lovely gift and making such an effort so I could have a nice evening.
Audra Laudargue: I too. ;)
InChrist-Bilios: Lol, you can have at the boy now, he went and got another girlfriend. Inconvenient, but as you can see, I'm quite able to write again. Hehe. Thanks. And aren't dads great?
Allyp: 1) You're very clever and your suspicions are good, as you can probably see by this chapter. 2) I can write now. :p 3) Some old type of flute that's more like a recorder and is wood and intricately carved, and, uh, I think I'm going to need to do a proper description next time it comes into play. 4) I want to see the underwater scenes! and 5) Tines, indeed!
Piratess of Summer: Ooh, thanks! Subtle wit, snobbish evil, and sexily exuding evil... I'm completely flattered and think this story must be on the right track:D
teenchic2004: You should be nervous. Very nervous. evil laughter And thanks --- the hand gesture was all mine. I love weird little touches like that.
slipshod: Lol! Keep reading...