Tal took out a charcoal and wrote on a parchment, “Can you do it?” Then he showed this message to Amafi.
Amafi smiled. “I should find my way to the kitchen, Magnificence, and see to having some fruit and wine sent here. Our hosts have been remiss in providing for the comfort of an envoy from a neighboring nation.”
He bowed and left the room while Tal crossed over to the fireplace and threw the parchment in. They could be certain they weren’t being watched, but they had no certainty someone wasn’t listening close by.
Tal threw himself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind returned to the first night at sea on the fast ship that had sped them south from Opardum. The Duke had given him a portfolio containing his documents, instructions, the medals from the dead soldiers, and a note with the ducal seal on it, which said, “Open when you are alone at sea.”
He had waited until after dark to open the note, and within found only one instruction: Kill Princess Svetlana. Then he had gone up on deck and thrown the message overboard.
He now understood Kaspar’s instruction. Without his iron-willed princess, Prince Janosh was a fool who could be easily controlled.
A short time later, Amafi returned to find Tal half-dozing on the bed. “Magnificence,” he said softly.
Tal sat up. “I am awake. I was just thinking.” He got up and went over to the table and wrote, “What did you find?”
Aloud, Amafi said, “I got lost, master, and a servant was kind enough to direct me to the kitchen. The majordomo of the palace is beside himself that no one saw to your comfort, and food will be arriving shortly.” Then he wrote on the parchment, “I have found a way.”
Tal said, “Well, that will be welcome. I’m feeling peckish.”
He threw the parchment into the fire just as a knock came at the door. Amafi opened it, and three servants entered with trays. One bore cheeses, breads, and fruit, the next pastries and sweet candy, and the last wine and glasses.
Tal waited until they were gone, then sampled the wine. “Good,” he said, and meant it.
“Shall I leave you to rest?” Amafi asked.
“Yes,” said Tal. “While we wait for a response from the Prince, hurry into the city and see if you can find a gift suitable for the Lady Natalia. And while you’re at it, find an apothecary and see if they have something for sea-sickness. That last trip was damned uncomfortable.”
“At your command, Magnificence.” Amafi hurried out. He would go to the Captain of the Palace Guard, requesting an escort, and would be detailed a pair of bored palace guards, who would follow him as he ambled from shop to shop. Along the way, besides some pretty trinkets for the Duke’s sister, Amafi would secure some items of a less felicitous nature.
The atmosphere at the state dinner that evening proved as warm as the mountain streams of his youth in winter, thought Tal. The Prince and Princess ignored Tal absolutely as much as possible without breaching political decorum. He had been politely greeted once, moved to a table occupied by military officers who spoke in monosyllables and otherwise ignored him, and at one point during the meal, the Prince politely asked him if he was enjoying his food and wine, to which Tal had graciously replied in the affirmative.
Tal had been back in his quarters for less than half an hour, inspecting the gifts Amafi had found, when a knock came at the door.
In Quegan, Tal said, “It can’t be a reply to the Duke at this late hour, can it?”
Amafi smiled and shrugged. “Anything is possible, Magnificence.”
Tal opened the door to find a young woman standing there. She said, “Sir, the Princess requests your presence in her apartment.”
Tal looked over his shoulder at Amafi and said, “Anything is possible.”
He followed the young woman through a corridor, then past a pair of guards at their post. She led him along another long hallway that led past the throne room and down a side corridor. At a large ornate doorway, the girl paused and knocked. “Enter,” came a voice from the other side.
The girl opened the door and let Tal enter first. He stepped through and found himself in a large drawing room, lit only by a few candles. The girl said, “The envoy, Highness.”
Princess Svetlana sat on a long divan, her legs drawn up under her in a very casual pose. She said, “Leave us.”
The girl bowed and departed, leaving Tal alone with the Princess. He took a quick look around the room and kept a straight face, for he had an impulse to smile. He bowed and said, “Ma’am?”
The Princess wore a lounging robe of a nearly diaphanous silk, with a sleeveless overjacket of the same material. It was of a pale blue, which accented her vivid eyes. She was still a striking woman, thought Tal as he heard her demand, “Approach, Squire.”