Algardis Universe Short Stories Page 4
The man looked back at his notes and scribbled something, then said quietly, “I can’t quite understand how someone as talented as you could stand to dally on a couch the whole day.”
Lillian said with a light challenge in her voice, “I’m quite talented as you say in a lot of things. If I have the right partner.”
She waited for him to get the hint. It wasn’t that Lillian desperately desired the man. Truth be told, she knew she’d forget his name in a matter of days. In two weeks’ time, he’d be a meaningless lackey of the courts in her eyes once more. Unnoticed. Undesired. But for today, he was her conquest…if only he’d at least try to rise to the occasion.
But seeing her persist only seemed to push him away further. Lillian watched as he rolled his eyes and said with a snap, "Well, some of us have to work, Lady Lillian. I suggest you go find the ones that don’t."
The seductive look on Lillian's face died as she looked over at him with disbelief.
She waited for the laugh that was presumably coming. The deprecating joke that said he had just been teasing her, the darling of the court.
When he didn't say a word, just lifted an eyebrow as if to say ‘why are you still here?’, she sniffed in feigned disdain, got off her lounging couch as elegantly as she could, and walked away. So this mouse didn’t want to play her game. Well, she would find one that would.
Lillian knew that all he saw as she walked away, if he was looking, was a seductively swaying back and an heiress calmly walking off to pursue other amusements. He didn’t see the small hurt in her heart because she didn’t let him or anyone else see that.
Weakness, she thought with a shudder as she walked out of the room with her face carefully composed. She’d been taught from birth how to carefully navigate the intricate rules at court. It was true that she was Lillian Weathervane. Rarely rebuffed. Always welcome. Her partners didn’t approach her, she chose them.
But this musician seemed to think he was above her. Or worse…that he didn’t need her. Which to Lillian was tantamount to heresy.
She was the jewel about which the court revolved. Not the empress. Not the emperor.
She.
She thought about what she would do to make him pay for the insult. But she wasn’t sure if she should. At least not yet. Perhaps he’d just been irritable today.
“Or even better,” she cooed to herself. “He’s playing hard to get. That would certainly be a change.”
She thought about it and decided that’s what it was. It didn’t necessarily make her inclined to like him, but it certainly gave her at least some semblance of mental entertainment. But for Lillian that wasn’t enough. She needed to be out. She needed to be doing something. She’d been growing more and more bored with the courts of late and only the emperor’s decision to take on a wife, the first of his reign, had alleviated that.
Instead of being a rival to Lillian, she had been a blessing. It hadn’t hurt that Teresa had been a favorite plaything of Lillian’s before her recent elevation and the youngest Weathervane never let her forget that. Teresa was an interloper upon the courts. Lillian was an institution, whose power only cemented further with each passing year.
Rounding a corner Lillian turned her thoughts away from her imperial ally and back to the small puzzle that was the musician named Matthew. She almost disgusted herself with how her thoughts focused on him, but he intrigued her so. Her thoughts were so consuming, that she didn't even bother to say a word to the gentleman who strolled around the corner with a skip in his step and casually hooked her elbow with his arm.
That was apparently fine with Demetre because he quickly broke into conversation anyway. Whistling congenially he paused and said, “I do believe you owe me some shillings.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she deigned to say with her nose up in the air.
Demetre scoffed. “This is the second time you’ve struck out with that musician.”
Lillian stopped and turned to glare down at him.
“And how would you know about that you little imp?” she demanded of the height-challenged courtier who looked up at her with mischievous blue eyes.
“Well, I was sitting under a certain loose-tied noblewoman’s skirts,” he said with a roll of his eyebrows.
She blinked and shrugged. “So what else is new?”
He winked. “It might be someone you know.”
Lillian rocked back on her heels and thought for a moment. Then she got it.
“Ohhh, gross!” Lillian snapped. “You know very well that woman has more diseases than a dockworker’s daughter.”
He said with flair as he tugged her along to start moving again, “You exaggerate my dear. What she does have is great legs.”
Lillian grumbled. “Enough of your floozies and back to my dilemma.”
“Yes, do tell,” the imp said as he peeked around a corner and hustled her along.
Lillian was too distracted by the thoughts in her head to pay heed to whatever or whoever it was that he was avoiding. For all she knew, it was one of Demetre’s various liaisons ready to call him out for dallying with yet another beautiful and immediately available version of themselves.
Frowning she muttered, “He must a priest. Or a saint. Or both.”
“Uh-huh,” said Demetre in a far off voice. He was clearly paying just as much attention to her as she was to him.
Which was why she didn’t tell him that she thought the musician may have been playing hard to get. There was no need for him to know that or the even worse suspicion that she had come up with in her flights of fancy…the musician may just not have been interested.
For Lillian this was tantamount to sacrilege.
It didn’t happen to her. Not she who had her pick of any courtier or noble at court just based on her looks and vivacity alone. Add to that that she was the youngest Weathervane to actually develop her powers and they were seeing signs of other unique mage gifts, enough to get her a place in the famed mage academy near Ameles Forest. She was a catch for anybody’s arm. Let alone a mere musician.
Apparently Demetre could sort out her thoughts fairly well just from her expression.
“There, there, dear,” he said in mock consolation. “Rejection comes to the best of us all.”
She whirled on him as quick as a viper as they began to climb the stairs leaving the palace wing reserved for musicians and poets and other artists, and taking them out into the vast palace hallways with congregating servants and noblemen.
That didn’t slow her down though. The thought of more people to appreciate her presence positively invigorated her.
“I was not rejected,” she said with teeth clenched in fury.
Demetre eyed her and snorted delicately. “Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, dear, he's a musician trying to make his way in a court of indolent nobles; spoiled, pampered, and surely without a care in the world."
“Well, of course he is,” Lillian said decisively. “I plan to help him with that too.”
“Is that before or after you toss him in and out of your bed faster than a land snake?” he said derisively.
Before she could object, Demetre waved his hand in dismissal. “You know I’d do the same, so no shame there. It’s just that the musician is looking for a proper place in court. Not a dalliance to detract from his prospects.”
“I could have made a worthy minor patron for such a man,” Lillian said in a pout.
She was careful to enunciate the difference between a patron and a Patron. The latter of which was reserved only for trained Companions of the Imperial Courts.
Demetre shrugged as they reached the top of the marble staircase. “Don’t waste your time struggling to tap a dry well when the entire court is wet and eager for your attentions. The first among them being me of course.”
She gave him a wry look. “You?”
“Yes,” Demetre said with a puffed up chest. “Starting with that bit of wager profits you owe me. Considering he turned yo
u down and all.”
Lillian laughed as she tossed her curls over her shoulder. "You are incorrigible. A skinflint. A snake.”
Demetre preened as if she had just given him the highest of compliments.
Lillian continued while glaring down at his smug boxy little face with the cutest dimples and evilest look in his pretty, cornflower blue eyes. “You'll have your coins don't worry."
"Good," Demetre said in satisfaction as he looked outside. "It’s already late afternoon, so my choices are limited. Therefore I'll take your box seat in the imperial theatre this evening too."
Lillian gasped in horror and said, "No, not tonight! I have nothing else to do. I swear to you, Demetre, when I told Matthew I was bored, I wasn't lying."
Demetre laughed and pinched her shoulder lightly with his fingertips, which was as far up as he could reach to touch her without her bending over.
"Oh, I have no doubt you told that poor musician the absolute truth. It doesn't change the fact that you owe me both coin and luxury and the luxury I choose is access to the theatre. Since I've been dying to see this week's play performance."
Lillian gritted her teeth but she couldn't very well refuse him. It had been her proposal after all, a small wager to see if she could win the notoriously difficult musician's favor in a single afternoon. She had lost her own bet.
Finally she sniffed, "Fine, but you must take me with you."
"No can do," Demetre said cheerfully as they reached an intersection of the imperial corridor and prepared to depart.
"Why ever not?" Lillian asked with mild insult.
"I have an assignation tonight and as you well know—although extraordinarily well-placed, your box only fits two," Demetre said as he departed with a wave of his hand.
Lillian's jaw dropped as she watched him walk off down the corridor to the left. "You're locking me out of my own play box for a random trollop?"
Demetre looked back over his shoulder and gave her a suggestive wink. "As if you wouldn't do the same."
With that he was off and she was left standing in an empty corridor with her hands on her hips in disbelief. "Well, I never."
She turned around and immediately set off in the opposite direction. She wanted to fume and sulk in peace. Hopefully with someone delightful listening to her every word drop from her lips. There was only one place she could go where she was assured a captive and silent audience.
The imperial chambers of the Empress of Algardis.
With a smile on her face, Lillian Weathervane set off. "Today might not be so bad after all," she said to herself with mild glee as she stuck her nose in the air and was careful not to meet the gaze of anyone beneath her. Servant or noble.
Lillian Weathervane was the talk of the entire court. The brightest debutante it had seen and the envy of all the women, and not a few men, who sought to be the belle of the ball. Now, even though years had passed, the entire Imperial Court was her playroom. She had swept into its midst with the vivacity of a woman seasoned by years at court, which made sense because prior to her debut she had grown up here.
Unfortunately that also was Lillian's current predicament. There was nothing left. Nothing exciting happened anymore. She had seen it all; dallied with everyone from lowborn stableman to the emperor’s own statistician. None of them gripped her fancy. She was half-convinced that she had only pursued the musician out of some whim at being ignored in the first place.
Aside from her love life, the duels between courtiers were a thing of commonplace. No one had died in weeks. Even the scandals seemed to be quite devoid of titillation.
And now, she had been stripped of her only reasonable bit of entertainment for the night —her boxed seats at the play.
Although she sought refuge in the royal salon, Lillian was well aware that chattering with Teresa could easily become fraught with boredom. Which is why she was taking charge of the conversation and their activities from the moment she entered the imperial’s rooms, starting with dismissing all of the simpering courtiers who were lodging there like baby blue jays in the roost. Life would be so much more interesting when they were alone. At the very least it would be better than staying in her own suite of rooms with nothing else to do.
Then when she was done with her private conversations with Teresa, mostly consisting of Lillian holding court, she would just invite back all the simpering idiots into the rooms. The empress always had something or someone fluttering around her trying to get into her good graces with their insipid pleas. If nothing else happened tonight, Lillian could take pleasure in denying their banal requests.
She hasn’t even been married to Bastien long enough for tongues to start wagging that she hasn’t borne him the all-important heir yet, Lillian mused to herself as she continued her train of thought about the only woman she could be considered moderately close to at court.
She was careful though to not say anything aloud that might have even hinted at disloyalty. As Teresa's primary lady-in-waiting and her closest confidante, Lillian enjoyed extraordinary favor at court. But there was nothing the emperor hated more than gossip about his person and as magically talented as she was, she also thrived on the life blood of the courts—secrets and lies. Cymus, the late emperor, had hated her. It seemed that his sons were destined to share the same animosity. So it went without saying that despite her status as the court belle, Lillian didn’t interact much with the emperor himself. Though to be fair he tended to limit his interactions with anyone who liked to have fun of Lillian’s variety. Bastien was said to be more lenient than his father but only in the sense that he preferred the ‘lazy courtiers’ as he called them to keep their distance and stay out of his way, instead of banishing them outright like his father had. As for the mysterious other brother of the imperial family, well the less said about Maradian the better, mainly because no one knew where he was or what he was up to. Aside from being supposedly dead. She had enough things to worry about without solving the mystery of a missing imperial. For Lillian knew all too well that her exalted status had brought her many enemies. Numerous noblewomen and not too few others, like the Companions of court, were waiting in the wings to take her place.
Now Lillian was swooping down on the inner chambers on her way to the Empress herself.
“We may not have as much time as I thought,” Lillian mused to herself as assorted people passed her by. “The courts seem especially busy today. Something’s up.”
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the empty courtyards filled with mazes of green and not a hint of flowers in sight. Lillian had always thought the spot would be perfect for an elaborate set of fountains for courtiers and visitors alike to enjoy. Unfortunately, like the neglected rose gardens to the west, her vision was not to be.
Too bad, Lillian thought dismissively as she weaved between the ever-growing assemblage of nobles lining the entrance to the emperor's imperial audience chamber.
She managed to slip into the chamber with a refined nod at the chamberlain and skirted along the edge of the room, behind self-important barons and generals who hadn't seen combat in over fifty years. Not since the last flare up with the kith in the Ameles Forest anyway.
She didn't stop moving, even as some noblemen tried to catch her eye and ladies waved fans in invitation, all of them eager to capture the attention of the empress's favorite attendant.
They knew, and she knew, that if they curried favor with her it was as good as done that their families too would gain favor. After all, a rising tide raised all boats.
Lillian however wasn’t feeling very inclined to be used this afternoon.
Sniffing in disdain as she dodged around a particularly malodorous gentleman, she thought to herself, Now if that musician had just been a little more court-savvy he might have realized the same. A plum position in the empress’s salon would have been worth a night in my bed and more. But no. He squandered his chances and prospects at court. Perhaps it’s time to turn my pursuit into a hunt. That musician won’t like
how vengeful I can be.
To be honest, the vindictive turn of her thoughts pleased her. If she wasn’t going to be happy, neither was he.
Then she saw the one man she was dying to avoid this evening. He always ruined her fun.
She ducked behind a woman with wide-hoop skirts, the sort of fashion Lillian detested and hoped he hadn’t noticed her.
No such luck.
She felt a tug on her floating gossamer gown and turned around with obvious reluctance. She let a small frown cross her face, briefly enough not to mar her serene expression but she knew he would see it and know her displeased. Not that he cared but she would have the satisfaction at least of being able to display some sort of irritation even if court rules called for cordialness. As her flighty uncle stepped in her line of sight, Lillian stifled a reluctant sigh.
She didn't want to say a word to him, but courtesy demanded it. If she bypassed her own blood without a word, especially when it was clear she had seen him, then the court would be atwitter for days.
And for all the wrong reasons.
"Uncle," Lillian said with a stiff smile.
"Niece," said the stick-thin man that reminded her more of a praying mantis than anything else. He leaned over and kissed her hand with dry lips.
Used to the sensation, if not entirely pleased with it, Lillian drifted a bit closer to hear what he had to say. He wouldn't have stopped her mid-court with prying eyes and ears all around them if he just wanted her to acknowledge him. A nod of his head and a nod of hers, two ships passing in the night, would have done that just as easily if so.
True to form, her Uncle leaned forward and whispered into her ear. Every word came with spittle to grace her perfumed and powdered flesh like drops of morning dew. Only the training drilled into her since birth kept her from flinching away at the sensation.
“Well," he said. "We have a newcomer to court."
Lillian shifted uncomfortably. "Another merchant perhaps?"
"No," said her Uncle softly. "Someone more important. The emperor has convened a group of nobles here not usually seen outside of their massive estates. Look girl."