Masquerades - Kate Novak [155]
"Come," the new croamarkh called out.
A guard entered the room. "Excuse me, Your Lordship. Lady Thistle Thalavar is here."
"Thank you. Please show her in," Victor said. To the accountant he explained, "I'm afraid my business with House Thalavar is more urgent than this problem. We will have to continue this discussion later. Make another appointment with my scribe."
"But, Your Lordship, we need-"
"Dismissed," Victor growled with an expression that would brook no argument.
The accountant gathered his books and pens and bowed. He bowed again to Lady Thistle as she entered the room. As the accountant exited, Victor smiled with delight. The croamarkh had no appointment with Thistle, but on the off-chance she would take it into her head to visit him here he had left instructions that she be shown up immediately. "What service can I do for Your Lady-ship?" Lord Victor asked.
"I can wait if I'm interrupting your work," Thistle began.
"Lady Thistle, you are the head of one of the leading families of Westgate. I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."
As he rose from his desk and circled around to stand before the girl, Victor noted how his flattery caused her to straighten with pride. "Besides, if I kept you waiting and you left, I would be disappointed that I'd missed seeing you." He took up the girl's hand and brushed his lips along her fingertips.
"I've given a lot of thought to our conversation last night," Thistle said. "I'm feeling very unhappy that I would not-could not give you the token you asked for." She touched the feather brooch pinned to her gown. "After more careful consideration, I have decided to give you my wholehearted support, and you will have my token, tonight."
"Oh, Thistle, my darling," Lord Victor whispered. He swept the girl up in his arms and kissed her as if she were a woman.
"Lord Victor," Thistle remarked when the croamarkh finally released her, "I fear you've mistaken my meaning."
Victor stepped back and turned his head away as if to hide his disappointment. "Forgive me, Lady Thistle, I thought… I dared hope…"
"Oh, Victor," Thistle whispered, stepping forward and taking the croamarkh's hands. "It's not that I don't lo-
that I'm not honored by your declaration. It's only that I meant something different by offering my support."
Victor looked the girl in the eyes once more, confusion written on his face. "What did you mean, Thistle?"
"I meant I will deliver Verovan's hoard to you. So you can do all you said for Westgate. So you can make it the greatest city in all of Faerun."
A smile fluttered across the croamarkh's face. "Oh, Thistle. Sweet lady. All that talk of Verovan's treasure- that's just dreams, faerie tales. Someday, I will do all those things I spoke of, but when I asked for your support I was thinking more realistically-I was thinking of the kind of support a woman gives a man. Thistle, I love you. I want you to be my wife."
Thistle beamed with pleasure, but she was still determined to prove herself. "There is no position I'd like more," the girl replied, "but I will give you Verovan's hoard. It's not a myth. Meet me tonight at Castle Vhammos, and I will prove it."
Victor shook his head. "Darling, even for Verovan's hoard I cannot meet you tonight. I must be at the Temple of Gond for the ceremony to initiate apprentices. If I did not attend, it would offend every artisan in the city, not to mention the priests of Gond, and probably Gond himself."
Thistle laughed. "You are so dutiful. Meet me tomorrow night then. You shall have Verovan's treasure, and you shall have me."
"Very well," the croamarkh agreed. He leaned forward and whispered in the girl's ear, "Tomorrow night I'll let you prove whatever you like."
*****
The next morning, Thistle called Olive out to the veranda to join her for breakfast. The lady was watching Kretschmer and Winterhart drilling the castle guard. Marching in