L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“We’re very pleased to be here,” I replied. “We wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

“According to Frydryk…I owe you more than I realized.”

“Only to the Collegium, sir. If I hadn’t been there, doubtless someone else would have been.” I truly doubted that, but the Collegium needed the credit more than I did.

“I have my doubts, but I appreciate your efforts and those of the Collegium.”

“As we appreciate yours and those of the Council.”

“Enjoy the ball.” Suyrien smiled again.

As we moved out into the hall, and toward the music and those dancing, I thought the Councilor’s smile was more than professional, but with a good politician, one could never be certain. Behind us, the announcements continued.

“Councilor Alucion D’Artisan and Madame D’Alucion!”

“Councilor Reyner D’Factorius and Madame D’Reyner…”

We stopped short of the dance floor and to one side, not that far from the sideboards that held various vintages, where uniformed servers already provided goblets to those who wished them.

“Would you like something?”

“Not yet.” Without seeming to, Seliora studied the dancers and those around us.

She didn’t need to. She was by far the most beautiful. I glanced toward the temporary dais at the south end of the Hall, where orchestra played music for a slower dance, muted enough for both dancing and conversation, although I didn’t recognize the melody. But then, music in any fashion had never been my gift.

“Shendael D’Alte and Madame D’Shendael.”

“Marshal Geuffryt D’Mer…”

I turned slightly to watch as Juniae D’Shendael smiled at each of the High Councilors, her expression gracious and her short-cut mahogany hair without a strand out of place.

“So that’s what she looks like,” murmured Seliora. “Khethila might be disappointed.”

“She’s seen etchings and paintings, and she looks like them.”

“The Honorable Dharios Harnen, Envoy of the Abierto Isles, and Madame Harnen.”

At past Balls, the envoy had brought his daughter, and the much younger woman with him looked more her age, suggesting that he’d recently remarried.

“Ryel D’Alte and Madame Ryel.” That announcement seemed wrong, perhaps because the first time I’d heard it had been for Iryela’s parents.

“Frydryk D’Suyrien-Alte and Mistress Alynkya D’Ramsael-Alte.”

I watched as the Ryels made their way into the Hall and over to the three Councilors. Iryela wore a gown of shimmering blue and silver, the same colors she’d worn at the first Ball where I’d met her-although Kandryl wore the Ryel colors of black and silver.

“Don’t move to them,” murmured Seliora. “They can join us. They will.”

I didn’t argue. If they did, it showed one thing, and if they didn’t, it showed another.

Matters didn’t turn out quite that way, because I could see Juniae D’Shendael was headed in our direction, accompanied not by her husband, but by the Naval officer who had followed her through the receiving line.

“You’re going to get Khethila’s wish,” I said in a low voice.

“I’ll make the best of it for her.”

Madame D’Shendael’s smile was warm as she inclined her head to us. “Maitre Rhennthyl…I do prefer that to ‘Captain.’ I hope you don’t mind.” Madame D’Shendael smiled and looked to Seliora. “Being a Maitre D’Structure is more distinguished. There are but six in all the world, and there are six Civic Patrol Captains just in L’Excelsis itself.”

I didn’t correct her, but just murmured, “You’re most gracious.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Madame D’Shendael,” offered Seliora.

“Juniae, please…”

“I heard so much about your books from Rhenn’s sister, and she would be so pleased to know that you are as gracious-and imposing-as your writings.”

Juniae D’Shendael laughed. “Imposing? That sounds like a statue. I hope I’m not quite that stiff and formal.” She looked to me. “Does your sister still retain her affection for my work, Maitre Rhennthyl, or was that a passing fashion of youth?”

“She still holds the deepest respect for you and your writing, Madame.”

A card appeared in the gloved hand of Juniae D’Shendael. “I’ve written the name of the latest book on the back. With fortune, it should be printed in the next month or so.”

I took the card. “Thank you. I’m certain she will get it. I will have to post the card and information to her, though. She is now running the Alusine Wool factorage in Kherseilles. She’s made it quite profitable, and as I told you years ago, she credits some of that to you.”

“You are both kind, but I’m certain it was mainly through her own ability. She’s a full factoria now, isn’t she?”

“That she is. One of the few.” I didn’t want to go into all the difficulties that had created.

“Good for her…and for your father in supporting her.” She smiled warmly, then inclined her head to the young-faced, but red-and-silver-haired man in the uniform of a Navy Sea-Marshal. “I did want you to meet Assistant Sea-Marshal Geuffryt. His official title is Director of Internal Operations.”

I inclined my head to the marshal. “I’m pleased to meet you. Might I present my wife Seliora?”

“Madame Rhennthyl, I’m delighted to meet you.” After bowing his head slightly to Seliora he straightened and said with a smile, “It’s always a pleasure to meet people who take their obligations seriously, but not themselves. You both have that reputation.”

“So does the Navy,” I replied.

“We try,” he replied with a laugh.

“If you will excuse us?” Juniae D’Shendael smiled again. “I see my husband beckoning.”

After she and the Sea-Marshal turned away, I read what she had written on the back of the card-“The Art of Conversation.” The writing looked familiar, near-perfect, so much so that it might have been calligraphy. I’d seen it before. I knew I had. Then I almost froze, realizing that the script well might be identical to the message I’d been given at the banque. I’d have to check, but I was certain that the writing was identical.

“What is it?” asked Seliora, leaning close to me and murmuring her words.

“Trouble…” The Assistant Sea-Marshal was clearly the head of Naval intelligence-spying, or the like, although I’d have to check with Dichartyn-and the entire purpose of the meeting and the card was obvious. What I didn’t understand was why Marshal Geuffryt couldn’t have acted on the information I’d been provided in the note at the banque. “I’ll have to tell you later.”

I half-turned and smiled as Iryela and Kandryl approached.

“There you are!” offered Iryela warmly. “We did want to join you, but Madame D’Shendael and that Navy officer were taking your time.”

“She was giving me a card with the title of her new book so that I could tell Khethila. It’s called ‘The Art of Conversation.’ I imagine it will be more than that. Her books go beyond the titles.”

Iryela smiled. “You’d never mentioned you’d read her books.”

“I haven’t read them all-just two, and not all of one of them,” I admitted. “It’s not that they’re not good…but…there’s never enough time.”

“With all that you two do, I’m not surprised.” Iryela’s eyes flicked to Kandryl.

Kandryl looked to Seliora. “I understand you’re a marvelous dancer. If you wouldn’t mind…” He looked to me.

Seliora offered a smile. “I’d love to, and Rhenn can’t tell me no.”

I shrugged helplessly, then turned to Iryela. “I fear you’re getting the worse of this, but might I have the dance?”

She smiled broadly. “That you may.”