Fortune's Fool - Mercedes Lackey [5]
She wound her way through the halls of mother-of-pearl and coral, of abalone and amber, checking the usual places where Vladislav might be. And finally she found him.
The King was in his counting house, but he was not the one doing the counting of the money. Four earnest, clerkly Tritons were tallying up the contents of what must have been a treasure ship. Gold and silver bars already lay neatly stacked, awaiting transfer to the vaults. At the moment, it was the contents of several chests that occupied their attention.
Katya’s eyes gleamed a little as she surveyed the wealth. From the fact that the styles and gems of several different lands were jumbled together in the one she was nearest to, she suspected that the vessel that had sunk must have been a pirate raider. If so, good riddance. The Sea People were always being blamed for the depredations of pirates, and many a war had been started between Dry Land and Sea because the Drylanders were certain that the Sea People had been plundering their ships.
“Ah, now, save this out,” the King said, pulling out a delicate tunic woven of tiny gold and silver links. “This should be in Galya’s wardrobe.”
In her arsenal, you mean, Father, Katya thought with amusement. Galya was the most beautiful of his daughters, the one that displayed the Siren blood they all had from their maternal grandmother most clearly, and she was, next to Katya, the most subtle weapon he had to deploy.
Not subtle in and of herself; her seductive lure was more like a bludgeon to the head. But subtle in how Vladislav used her.
Any time he wanted to read a man, or deflect his questioning, or confuse him, or make him forget all about caution, all he had to do was bring Galya in for some pretext or other. Katya hadn’t seen a man yet who didn’t end up with his eyes riveted on Galya’s magnificent bosoms—or, rarely, some other part of her—within the first few heartbeats. And it was certain that as he stared, he was not thinking of how best to negotiate with Vladislav.
This delicate tunic would allow Galya’s body to shine through while giving the illusion of modesty. It was exactly the sort of thing that delighted her.
It would also be cursed heavy. For all that the garment was a work of art, Katya did not envy her the wearing of it.
“And what of you, belochka?” he asked. “Do you see anything here your heart craves?”
His eyes flickered from her to the chest and back again and she read the wordless message clearly. There must be rumors about her again. Possibly only that she was too serious, too unfeminine, but those were rumors easily quashed with a moment of girlish vanity.
Fortunately there were some things in that chest that she would like. With a squeal of glee, she pulled out six elaborate hair sticks of the sort the people of Qin wore. One pair was done in the likeness of cascading fuchsia blossoms, the blossoms and leaves being formed of delicately carved, whisper-thin semi-precious stone. One pair featured the Phoenyx-bird and the Dragon, wrought in gold and silver, every feather and scale perfectly represented. And from the final pair, chains of tiny golden bells descended, so that the wearer would be surrounded by gentle chiming as she moved.
Of course, the fact that these “hair sticks” were absolutely lethal weapons was something best kept between the two of them. How these ornaments had come into the hands of pirates she had no clue, but they were one of the many weapons used by a certain class of courtesan-assassins, who would insert themselves into a Qin-lord’s concubines and wait, sometimes for years, before striking.
It was a good tactic. One Katya did not have the patience for, but a good tactic nonetheless.
“Come, my daughter. My business here is finished, and these young men can complete the tally without me. Tell me of your day.” Vladislav smiled at his daughter. He was possibly one of the most gorgeous Kings of his line to date, and that was not