The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [15]
"The title will be challenged, of that you may be certain," she said in a distracted tone. "These are the children of Lord Arlos's elven wife. His first wife," Cassandra stressed. "Do you remember the circumstances of her death?"
A story Danilo had heard in his youth, long since forgotten, floated to the surface of his mind. "She was found dead in the garden," he said slowly. "If I recall aright, Lord Arlos insisted that it was the work of assassins. He claimed that his enemies were loath to see races other than human introduced into the Waterdhavian nobility and that his lady's death was the result. Surely, though, this was nothing more than the raving of a grieving man!"
Cassandra met his eyes once more. "Was it?"
A long moment of silence passed between them, for Danilo could think of nothing to say in the face of such absurdity. Before his wits returned, his mother glided away, and was swept up into the circle of dancers.
* * * * *
Arilyn stalked down the gleaming halls, ignoring the thorns that had pierced her too-thin slippers. At the moment, she would have happily traded her best horse for a pair of stout, practical boots. Not only would they have saved her feet from the skyflower thorns, but they would also lend conviction to the kick she longed to deliver to Danilo's backside.
Whatever had come over the man? Granted, he was fond of pranks. True, he worked behind the carefully constructed facade of a shallow, silly fop. She could accept that much. Much of the time, she derived a considerable amount of secret amusement from his contrived foolishness. She had learned to look behind the jest to the intent, and usually found herself in full agreement with Danilo's goals, if not always his methods. This stunt, however, was utterly beyond her ken.
As Arilyn's ire faded, however, she remembered the look of astonishment on Danilo's face. Then there was his use of Elvish to warn her. This was strange, considering the pains he took to hide his knowledge of the language from his peers. No, there was considerably more to this night's work than a silly prank.
"Are we almost there?" she asked the maidservant as they rounded yet another corner in the labyrinth of halls and rooms within rooms.
The girl looked back over her shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "It is a lovely party, even with that bit of excitement. You must be impatient to return."
Arilyn cast her eyes toward the ceiling and forbore comment. Perhaps by human standards, this was a lovely party, but she could not help contrasting elven festivals with Waterdhavian fetes. Here the heart of festive gatherings was politics, business, and intrigue. Deep, true celebration eluded the city's humans.
What could this girl know of such things? How could she know the joy, the unity, that marked elven festivals? Judging from the servant's clear and untroubled smile, she also knew nothing of the heartaches and complexities that could result. Arilyn wasn't altogether certain whether the girl was to be pitied or envied.
Finally the maidservant showed her into a room. She insisted upon bringing out one bright costume after another, expounding the merits of each. Anxious to get on with it, Arilyn pointed out a silver gown that looked about the right size-and that was loose enough to allow freedom of motion. She peeled off her silk slippers and handed them to the maid to give her something to do. The girl exclaimed in dismay over the thorns embedded in the delicate fabric, then settled down to the task of pulling them out and scrubbing at the stains.
Left to her own devices, Arilyn quickly stripped off her ruined gown and tugged on the replacement. A brisk brushing removed clinging bits of twigs and leaves from her hair and left the black curls floating in a wild nimbus about her shoulders. She shifted impatiently from one bare foot to the other as she awaited the return of her shoes.
"I'm afraid they're ruined," the girl said at last. She cast a reproachful look up at Arilyn. "You've bled on them."
"Inconsiderate of me," the half-elf responded