Jim Butcher - Academ's Fury

Isana turned to blink at Serai, startled. "Duel? Me?"

"If you fought him, he'd kill you. And the only way out of the duel would be to retract your statement in public-which would be an excellent way to help make sure that he can never be effectively accused." The courtesan's eyes became cold and hard as stones. "You will control yourself, Steadholder, or for you own good I will knock you senseless and drag you back to Nedus's manor."

Isana could only stare at the tiny woman, her mouth open.

"There will be a time of reckoning for those who have sought to undermine the authority of the Crown," Serai continued, iron in her eyes. "But it must be done properly if it is ever to be done at all."

In the face of Serai's reasoned determination, Isana forced her bitter anger aside. She'd had a lifetime of practice, resisting the influence of the emotions she could sense from others, and it afforded her some small advantage in containing her own. "You're right. I don't know what got into me."

The courtesan nodded, and her eyes softened to match her smile. "Furies, look what you've done. You've made me threaten you with physical violence, darling, which no proper lady would ever do. I feel so brutish."

"I apologize," Isana said.

Serai patted her arm, and said, "Fortunately, I am the most gracious and tolerant woman in the Realm. I will forgive you." She sniffed. "Eventually."

"Who should we talk to in the meanwhile?" Isana asked.

Serai pursed her lips thoughtfully, and said, "Let us begin with Lady Placida. She is the annalist of the Dianic League, and her husband has made it a point to remain rather distant from Kalare or Aquitaine."

"He supports the Crown, then?" Isana asked.

Serai arched a brow. "Not precisely. But he pays his taxes without complaining, and he and his sons have served terms in the Shieldwall Legions of Antillus. He'll fight for his Realm, but he's mostly concerned with managing his lands with as little interference as possible. So long as he has that, he is unconcerned with the identity of the next First Lord."

"I shall never understand politics. Why would he help us?"

"He likely wouldn't, on his own," Serai said. "But there's a chance his wife will. I suspect the Dianic League will be most interested in establishing relationships with you."

"You mean, they want me to owe them favors as rapidly as possible," Isana said in a dry voice.

"Your understanding of politics seems sound enough to me," Serai replied, her eyes sparkling, and she led Isana over to meet Lady Placida.

Lord Placida's wife was an exceptionally tall woman with a thin, severe face and heavy-lidded brown eyes that bespoke the exceptional intellect behind them. She wore the single, deep color of the ruling house of Placida, a rich, deep emerald green whose dye was derived from a plant found only in the high reaches of the mountains near Placida. She wore golden jewelry set with emeralds and amethyst, each piece beautiful in its elegant simplicity. She looked no older than a girl in her midtwenties, though her medium brown hair, like Isana's, was touched lightly with silver and grey. She wore it bound up in a simple net that fell to the base of her neck, and she smelled of rose oil.

"Serai," she murmured, and smiled at the courtesan as she approached. Her voice was surprisingly light and sweet. She came forward, hands held out, and Serai took them, smiling. "It's been too long since you've visited us."

Serai inclined her head in a bow of deference to Lady Placida's station. "Thank you, Your Grace. And how is your lord husband, if I may ask?"

Lady Placida rolled her eyes the tiniest bit, and drily murmured, "He was not feeling well enough to attend tonight's festivities. Something in the air, no doubt."

"No doubt," Serai replied, her voice grave. "If I may be so bold, would you convey my best wishes to him for a speedy recovery?"

"Gladly," the High Lady said. She turned her face to Isana and smiled politely. "And you, lady. Would you happen to be Isana of Calderon?"

Isana bowed her head in reply. "If you please, Your Grace, just Isana."

Lady Placida arched a brow and studied Isana with intent, alert eyes. "No, Steadholder. I'm afraid I must disagree. Indeed, of all the women in the Realm, it would seem that you might be the one who most deserves the honorific. You've done something no other woman in all the history of Alera has ever done. You've earned rank and title without resorting to marriage or murder."

Isana shook her head. "The First Lord deserves the credit, if anyone. I had little say in the matter."

Lady Placida smiled. "History seldom takes note of serendipity when it records events. And from what I have heard, I suspect an argument could be made that you very much did earn the title."

"Many women have earned titles, Your Grace. It doesn't seem to have been a factor in whether or not they actually received them."

Lady Placida laughed. "True enough. But perhaps that is beginning to change." She offered her hands. "It is a distinct pleasure to meet you, Steadholder."

Isana clasped the other woman's hands for a moment, smiling. "Likewise."

"Please tell me that Serai is not your guide here in the capital," the High Lady murmured.

Serai sighed. "Everyone thinks the worst of me."

"Tut, dear," Lady Placida said calmly, her eyes shining. "I don't think the worst of you. I happen to know it. And I shudder to think to what kinds of shocking experiences the good Steadholder is about to be exposed."

Serai thrust out her lower lip. "Few enough. I'm staying at Sir Nedus's manor. I've got to be on my best behavior."

Lady Placida nodded in understanding. "Isana, have any of the Dianic League's council spoken to you yet?"

"Not yet, Your Grace," Isana replied.

"Ah," said Lady Placida. "Well, I'll not bore you with a recruiting speech here at the party, but I should enjoy the chance to discuss matters with you before the conclusion of Wintersend. I think there are many things that you and the League might have to offer one another."

"I don't know what I could offer, Your Grace," Isana said.

"An example, for one," Lady Placida replied. "Word of your appointment has spread like wildfire, you know. There are thousands of women in the Realm who have been shown that there are doors that might now be open to them that were not before."

"Your Grace," Serai lied smoothly, "I am afraid that the Steadholder's time is by and large accounted for, as a guest of the First Lord's-but I happen to know the outrageously beautiful slave in charge of her calendar, and I should be glad to speak to her on your behalf to see if we can open up a time."

Lady Placida laughed. "My own time is somewhat limited, you know."

"I do not doubt it," Serai said. "But perhaps something might be arranged. What are your mornings like?"

"Filled with endless receptions for the most part, but for my lord husband's audience with the First Lord."

Serai arched a thoughtful brow. "There is usually quite a bit of walking involved during the audience. Perhaps you might permit the Steadholder to accompany you for conversation?"

"An excellent notion," Lady Placida said. "But two days too late, I am afraid. My lord husband was first on the list this year." Her words were light and pleasant, but Isana saw something shrewd and calculating in her eyes for a moment. "I'll have one of my staff contact you to find a time to take tea with the Steadholder-if that is all right with you, of course, Isana."

"Oh. Yes, of course," Isana said.

"Excellent," Lady Placida said, smiling. "Until we meet again, then." She turned away to take up a conversation with a pair of grey-bearded men, each wearing the deep purple sash of a Senator.

Isana's stomach clenched in frustration and worry. She glanced at Serai, and said, "There must be someone else."