Tigana by Guy Kay (novel24 txt) 📕

she remembered thinking, it had been new to her, while for him it was only the familiar coinage of his life, from a long time past.

He held up the dark red gown they’d had made in the old town. From his smile which matched her own Dianora knew it had been worth cajoling Vencel for the funds to have this done. The head of the saishan would want a favour later, he always did, but through such exchanges was the saishan run, and Dianora, looking at the gown, had no regrets.

‘What is Solores wearing?’ she asked.

‘Hala wouldn’t tell me,’ Scelto murmured regretfully.

Dianora laughed aloud at the straight face he managed to maintain. ‘I’m quite sure he wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘What is she wearing?’

‘Green,’ he said promptly. ‘High waisted, high neck. Two shades in pleats below the waist. Gold sandals. A great deal of gold everywhere else. Her hair will be up, of course. She has new ear rings.’

Dianora laughed again. Scelto allowed himself a tiny smile of satisfaction. ‘I took the liberty,’ he added, ‘of purchasing something else while I was in town.’

He reached into a fold of his tunic and handed her a small box. She opened it and wordlessly held up the gem inside. In the bright morning light of the balcony it dazzled and shone like a third red moon to join Vidomni and blue Ilarion.

Scelto said, ‘I thought it would be better with the gown than anything Vencel would offer you from the saishan jewels.’

She shook her head wonderingly. ‘It is beautiful, Scelto. Can we afford this? Will I have to go without chocolate for all of the spring and summer?’

‘Not a bad idea,’ he said, ignoring her first question. ‘You ate two pieces this morning while I was gone.’

‘Scelto!’ she exclaimed. ‘Stop that! Go spy on Solores and see what she’s spending her chiaros on. I have my habits and my pleasures, and none of them, so far as I can see, are particularly evil. Do I look fat to you?’

Almost reluctantly he shook his head. ‘I have no idea why not,’ he murmured ruefully.

‘Well you keep thinking about it till you figure it out,’ she said with a toss of her head. ‘In the meantime, that reminds me—the boy this morning was fine, except that the khav was very weak. Will you speak to him about how I like it?’

‘I did. I told him to make it a little weak.’

‘You what? Scelto, I absolutely—’

‘You always begin drinking more khav at the end of winter, when the weather begins to turn, and every spring you always have trouble sleeping at night. You know this is true, my lady. Either fewer cups or weaker khav. It is my duty to try to keep you rested and tranquil.’

Dianora was speechless for a second. ‘Tranquil!’ she finally managed to exclaim. ‘I might have frightened that poor child to the tips of his fingernails. I would have felt terrible!’

‘I had told him what to say,’ Scelto said placidly. ‘He would have blamed it on me.’

‘Oh, really. And what if I’d reported it directly to Vencel, instead?’ Dianora retorted. ‘Scelto, he would have had that boy starved and lashed.’

Scelto’s dignified little sniff conveyed quite clearly what he thought about the likelihood of her having done any such thing.

His expression was so wryly knowing that, against her will, Dianora found herself laughing again. ‘Very well,’ she said, surrendering. ‘Then let it be fewer cups, because I do like it strong, Scelto. It isn’t worth the drinking otherwise. Besides, I don’t think that’s why I can’t sleep at night. This season simply makes me restless.’

‘You were taken as Tribute in the spring,’ he murmured. ‘Everyone in the saishan is restless in the season they were taken.’ He hesitated. ‘I can’t do anything about that, my lady. But I thought perhaps the khav might be making it worse.’ There was concern and affection in his brown eyes, almost as dark as her own.

‘You worry too much about me,’ she said after a moment.

He smiled. ‘Who else should I worry about?’

There was a little silence; Dianora could hear the noises from far below in the square.

‘Speaking of worrying,’ said Scelto in a transparent effort to change the mood, ‘we may be concentrating too much on what Solores is doing. We may want to start keeping an eye on the young one with the green eyes.’

‘Iassica?’ Dianora said, surprised. ‘Whatever for? Brandin hasn’t even called her to him and she’s been here a month already.’

‘Exactly,’ said Scelto. He paused, somewhat awkwardly, which piqued her curiosity.

‘What are you saying, Scelto?’

‘I, um, have been told by Tesios who has been looking after her that he has never seen or heard of a woman in the saishan with such . . . control of her body or such . . . capacity for the climax of love.’

He was blushing furiously, which made Dianora abruptly self-conscious too. It was a standard practice— with some quite unstandard variations—for the women of the saishan to use their castrates to give them physical release if too much time went by between summonses to the other wing.

Dianora had never asked Scelto for such a service. Something about the very idea disturbed her: it seemed an abuse, in a way she couldn’t articulate. He had been a man, she reminded herself frequently, who had killed someone for love of a woman. Their relationship, close as it was, had never entered that dimension. It was strange, she thought, even amusing, how shy they could both become at the very mention of the subject—and Triad knew it came up often enough in the hothouse atmosphere of the saishan.

She turned back to the railing, looking down through the screen, to give him time to regain his composure. Thinking about what he’d said though, she found herself feeling a certain amusement after all. She was already working out how and when to tell Brandin about this.

‘My friend,’ she said, ‘you may know me well, but in exactly the