Midnight Jewel
Page 95
“I wouldn’t want that life,” Tamsin told me after the party departed. “But she’s in love. I guess that helps offset moving to the wilderness.”
“I thought you wanted to move to the wilderness,” I teased. “Isn’t that the whole point of chasing Warren?”
“I want to move into the governor’s newly built house that’s in the wilderness. There’s a difference.”
Before Adelaide had left, we’d learned that Tamsin’s full-scale “attack” on Warren this week had been pretty successful. She’d been right that he wanted to start his new governorship with a wife, and he’d quickly recognized her strengths. He’d asked that she not accept any offers of engagement until he returned.
“Do you have any appointments today?” I asked when we were back in our bedroom later. Although she’d promised Warren she wouldn’t accept any offers in his absence, she’d made it clear that she’d still be meeting with other suitors. It was either a way to force his hand or keep her own options open. Maybe both.
“Yes, of course.” She’d finished writing one of her daily letters and now sat on her bed with a book. “I’m just taking a short break. I’ve got tea with Melvin Yates in an hour and then that dinner party at the Waverly house tonight.”
I settled on my own bed with the Lorandian dictionary and the coded letter. I did a double take when I noticed her book’s cover. “Are you reading A Testament of Angels?”
“Huh?” She glanced down at the book, which was a standard church text. “Oh, yes. I started it in Grashond. There wasn’t a lot of reading material there, and I figured I might as well see it through. And I need something to pass the time now. Warren’s coming back by water after they make it to Hadisen, but it’ll still probably be two weeks before I see him.” She gave a dramatic sigh and leaned back against the headboard. “These days are going to drag.”
My day didn’t seem to have enough hours in it as I hurried to finish my translation. The letter wasn’t long, but I couldn’t do a word-for-word replacement. I had to take tense and conjugation into consideration, as well as words with multiple meanings. At least I had nothing else to distract me, thanks to my thin social schedule. When I finished a couple of hours later and set my Lorandian dictionary aside, the words before me still didn’t make sense. There was no sentence structure at all or any attempt to follow the language’s grammatical rules. If there was a message there, it was beyond me. I made my own copy of the translation and gave Aiana the first one to relay to Silas when she went into town later.
I didn’t hear anything back until she gave me a small note a week later, during one of our crossbow lessons. It was from Silas: Thanks for the translation. Still no luck breaking it.
The hope that my efforts had provided some revelation faded away. Silas and his network had had to go to incredible lengths to even learn about the letter’s existence, and then I’d done the work of obtaining it. All for nothing.
I lined up a shot with the crossbow and tried to keep my tone light as I asked, “Silas gave you the note? Or was it Grant?”
She crossed her arms and checked my form. “Silas. I’ve hardly seen Iyitsi at all. He’s too caught up in this case.”
I let the bolt fly, and she grunted in approval. “He told me how important it is to him. How it’ll get him back to his people. Is there . . . is there any other way he could do it?” I’d been troubled by this, the more I thought about Sirminica. I understood more of his reasons but was still bothered by the idea of him holding a grudge for so long.
“Nothing he’d get anytime soon. And certainly nothing with this kind of a status and legitimacy. It really is a rare opportunity to go home. There have been Balanquan ambassadors in the colonies before, but no reciprocal offers until now. My guess is that this ‘bonding’ isn’t so much about friendship as it is giving the Balanquans a direct line of communication to what’s happening down here.”
“Is the status Grant will get as important to him as going back?”
“As important? I don’t know. But certainly important. His uncle dismissed him as nothing. I’d want to confront him too. And I understand the call to reclaim his birthright. Our family branches are ingrained into us. It becomes part of our identity. Having that taken away—or walking away from it—is hard.” Aiana stared off at the trees for several moments, her eyes darkened by troubling memories.
“Will you visit him?” I asked as I loaded another bolt.
Her lips turned up in a bitter smile. “No. No one can. He’s trying to get there; I’m trying to stay away. The arrangement is strict. Only the ambassadors and their families are allowed—wives and children, people like that. No friends or well-wishers. Not even servants or bodyguards. My people have strong beliefs about protecting ambassadors, though. That’s part of why they’re given such a high status.”
I lowered the crossbow. “Won’t you miss him?”
“Of course. I wish he’d stay. But maybe he’ll have something to hold on to, instead of going through life wearing mask after mask. Maybe it’s better he’s gone. I’m wanted by my people, and if they ever found me and tried to take me back, Iyitsi would get himself killed trying to stop them.”
“I didn’t know that—about you, I mean.” I mulled over the last part of what she’d said. “I’m not surprised he’d do that for you. You’re his friend. He’s gone on about how dangerous attachments are, but I’ve seen how he cares about you.”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes sparkled both with amusement and affection. “Don’t be fooled by that gruffness. When the time comes for hard choices, he always does the right thing.”
Not long after that day, word came to us that Warren had returned to Cape Triumph by water after a successful land journey. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing Adelaide and Cedric had made it safely. Tamsin was glad too, but her fixation soon shifted to her uncertain future with Warren. She paced anxiously around the house and constantly watched the front door for any couriers. When someone finally came, it was Warren himself. Tamsin had been watching from the top of the stairs and ran back to our room.
“I thought you wanted to move to the wilderness,” I teased. “Isn’t that the whole point of chasing Warren?”
“I want to move into the governor’s newly built house that’s in the wilderness. There’s a difference.”
Before Adelaide had left, we’d learned that Tamsin’s full-scale “attack” on Warren this week had been pretty successful. She’d been right that he wanted to start his new governorship with a wife, and he’d quickly recognized her strengths. He’d asked that she not accept any offers of engagement until he returned.
“Do you have any appointments today?” I asked when we were back in our bedroom later. Although she’d promised Warren she wouldn’t accept any offers in his absence, she’d made it clear that she’d still be meeting with other suitors. It was either a way to force his hand or keep her own options open. Maybe both.
“Yes, of course.” She’d finished writing one of her daily letters and now sat on her bed with a book. “I’m just taking a short break. I’ve got tea with Melvin Yates in an hour and then that dinner party at the Waverly house tonight.”
I settled on my own bed with the Lorandian dictionary and the coded letter. I did a double take when I noticed her book’s cover. “Are you reading A Testament of Angels?”
“Huh?” She glanced down at the book, which was a standard church text. “Oh, yes. I started it in Grashond. There wasn’t a lot of reading material there, and I figured I might as well see it through. And I need something to pass the time now. Warren’s coming back by water after they make it to Hadisen, but it’ll still probably be two weeks before I see him.” She gave a dramatic sigh and leaned back against the headboard. “These days are going to drag.”
My day didn’t seem to have enough hours in it as I hurried to finish my translation. The letter wasn’t long, but I couldn’t do a word-for-word replacement. I had to take tense and conjugation into consideration, as well as words with multiple meanings. At least I had nothing else to distract me, thanks to my thin social schedule. When I finished a couple of hours later and set my Lorandian dictionary aside, the words before me still didn’t make sense. There was no sentence structure at all or any attempt to follow the language’s grammatical rules. If there was a message there, it was beyond me. I made my own copy of the translation and gave Aiana the first one to relay to Silas when she went into town later.
I didn’t hear anything back until she gave me a small note a week later, during one of our crossbow lessons. It was from Silas: Thanks for the translation. Still no luck breaking it.
The hope that my efforts had provided some revelation faded away. Silas and his network had had to go to incredible lengths to even learn about the letter’s existence, and then I’d done the work of obtaining it. All for nothing.
I lined up a shot with the crossbow and tried to keep my tone light as I asked, “Silas gave you the note? Or was it Grant?”
She crossed her arms and checked my form. “Silas. I’ve hardly seen Iyitsi at all. He’s too caught up in this case.”
I let the bolt fly, and she grunted in approval. “He told me how important it is to him. How it’ll get him back to his people. Is there . . . is there any other way he could do it?” I’d been troubled by this, the more I thought about Sirminica. I understood more of his reasons but was still bothered by the idea of him holding a grudge for so long.
“Nothing he’d get anytime soon. And certainly nothing with this kind of a status and legitimacy. It really is a rare opportunity to go home. There have been Balanquan ambassadors in the colonies before, but no reciprocal offers until now. My guess is that this ‘bonding’ isn’t so much about friendship as it is giving the Balanquans a direct line of communication to what’s happening down here.”
“Is the status Grant will get as important to him as going back?”
“As important? I don’t know. But certainly important. His uncle dismissed him as nothing. I’d want to confront him too. And I understand the call to reclaim his birthright. Our family branches are ingrained into us. It becomes part of our identity. Having that taken away—or walking away from it—is hard.” Aiana stared off at the trees for several moments, her eyes darkened by troubling memories.
“Will you visit him?” I asked as I loaded another bolt.
Her lips turned up in a bitter smile. “No. No one can. He’s trying to get there; I’m trying to stay away. The arrangement is strict. Only the ambassadors and their families are allowed—wives and children, people like that. No friends or well-wishers. Not even servants or bodyguards. My people have strong beliefs about protecting ambassadors, though. That’s part of why they’re given such a high status.”
I lowered the crossbow. “Won’t you miss him?”
“Of course. I wish he’d stay. But maybe he’ll have something to hold on to, instead of going through life wearing mask after mask. Maybe it’s better he’s gone. I’m wanted by my people, and if they ever found me and tried to take me back, Iyitsi would get himself killed trying to stop them.”
“I didn’t know that—about you, I mean.” I mulled over the last part of what she’d said. “I’m not surprised he’d do that for you. You’re his friend. He’s gone on about how dangerous attachments are, but I’ve seen how he cares about you.”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes sparkled both with amusement and affection. “Don’t be fooled by that gruffness. When the time comes for hard choices, he always does the right thing.”
Not long after that day, word came to us that Warren had returned to Cape Triumph by water after a successful land journey. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing Adelaide and Cedric had made it safely. Tamsin was glad too, but her fixation soon shifted to her uncertain future with Warren. She paced anxiously around the house and constantly watched the front door for any couriers. When someone finally came, it was Warren himself. Tamsin had been watching from the top of the stairs and ran back to our room.
