Masquerades - Kate Novak [153]
"A likely story," Winterhart exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon?" Thistle said with a shocked expression.
"You heard me," Winterhart replied. "He didn't take you up there for the view. He took you up there so he could give you his little speech about how he dreamed of finding Verovan's treasure so he could use it to make Westgate the greatest city in the Realms-greater than Waterdeep. How he'll make Westgate safe, fill it with scholars and musicians, irrigate the fields."
Thistle started at the mention of Verovan's treasure, but her tone was as cold as the Great Glacier when she answered. "I do not appreciate my own staff spying on me. How dare you follow us?"
"Did you believe him when he told you he felt he could conquer the world with you by his side? When he asked if he would have the support of a clever, beautiful lady, what did you tell him? Have you given him a token of your esteem?" Winterhart asked snidely.
The girl reached without thinking, to feel the feather brooch pinned to her gown. "I find this petty espionage most unappealing," she snapped back, but her face flushed scarlet as she spoke.
"How else can I be expected to protect you from such a devious scoundrel?" Winterhart demanded.
"Victor," Thistle replied icily, "is… not… a… scoundrel. Mistress Ruskettle, I think you should find some other duties for Miss Winterhart. I simply cannot tolerate her as a lady's maid." The girl rose and strode imperiously back into the castle.
Olive surveyed Thistle's untouched breakfast tray and plucked a piece of bacon from the plate. She crunched on it as she thoughtfully appraised Winterhart.
The younger halfling glared back at her. "How can she be such a fool to fall for that arrogant, conniving greengrocer?" Winterhart growled.
"She's a girl, Winterhart," Olive said, picking up a forkful of fried potatoes. "Remember when you were a girl? When you argued with your mother about the relative worth or worthlessness of some boy who took your fancy? When you were certain you could take care of yourself without anyone's help? When no one could reason with you?"
"I was never like that," Winterhart argued.
"Never? I'm beginning to wonder about you, Winterhart," Olive said and wolfed down the forkful of potatoes.
She motioned for the other halfling to follow her down to the lower courtyard, where Kretschmer, one of the few surviving members of Lady Nettel's guard, was drilling the new recruits Olive had hired. Olive pulled two wooden swords off the rack and tossed one to the prim halfling. Winterhart caught the practice weapon smoothly.
"It's time I assessed your reputed skill with a blade," Olive said.
"Is this another trial, Mistress Ruskettle?" Winterhart asked.
"No. Just a little exercise while we discuss tactics." Olive gave Winterhart's wooden blade a smack with her own. Winterhart responded by weaving her sword warily.
"I applaud your initiative following Lady Thistle last night," Olive said. "I can't, however, say I think much of the way you gave yourself away." She struck a blow aimed at Winterhart's thigh.
Winterhart parried the strike easily. "Does this mean you will try to convince Her Ladyship to keep me on as her personal maid?"
Olive shook her head, parrying a blow of Winterhart's aimed directly at her heart. "I can't afford to invite censure on myself. Someone's got to undo the damage you've done."
"Damage I've done?" Winterhart squeaked, lunging with her blade at Olive's shoulder. "Victor Dhostar is the one who'll being doing all the damage. That man is a menace," the younger halfling snarled.
"Agreed," Olive replied, leaping backward to avoid the lunge.
"If you know I'm right, you have to keep me close to Lady Thistle," Winterhart said, pressing her advantage, lunging again with her blade at Olive's shoulder. "Did you see how she blushed when I asked her if she'd given him a token? Did you notice she left the veranda