The Mask of Mirrors by M. Carrick; (different e readers txt) 📕

subject was as transparent as fine glass, but instead of continuing to push, Renata turned to look at the white fabric thickly stitched with strange, twisted animals in red, green, and gold silk thread. “A crime, actually,” she said, before she could think the better of it. Why would Renata Viraudax know that?

Because of Tess. And it gave her a more subtle angle of approach. “Believe it or not,” she said, with a conspiratorial tilt of her head, “my maid is a wanted woman in Ganllech.”

“Tess?” Leato threw a startled glance at the door to the entry hall, where Tess had settled with Renata’s cloak and a lap full of tatting. “For sewing?”

“Ganllech,” Renata said dryly, “is a land where one can utter the phrase ‘illegal embroidery ring’ with a straight face. They still have luxuries there, in clothing and otherwise; they merely keep them hidden, with reversible garments and secret panels easily tucked away when in public. All in violation of the law, of course—but it’s the seamstresses, not the nobles, who catch the worst of it when such things are exposed. When I met Tess, she was desperate to escape Ganllech before she could be sent to a work camp.”

“So Ganllech has its share of hypocrites, too.” He glanced sidelong at her, the fine lines of his features softened by the lamplight. “That was when you were coming here from Seteris, I assume. On your mission of reconciliation.”

Detachment, she reminded herself. Don’t let him play you—whether he means to or not. “Do you find that funny?” she asked, drawing back.

She only meant to feign joking offense, but Leato touched his heart in silent apology. “More like unexpected. House Traementis isn’t exactly renowned for mending bridges. Are you sure you’re related to us?”

“Knowing Mother, could anyone doubt?” Her laughter sounded a trifle forced; she shifted over to study a dress form wearing a gown covered in iridescent beetle wings. “She’s quite proud of the time she got Callia Fintenus branded on the cheek for implying she had Vraszenian blood.”

“You only got a fraction of the stories, I suspect. Our grandfather once had an entire delta family sentenced to drown in the spring floods because they embezzled from the charter they administered for us.” He stood at her side, close enough that she could feel his warmth, but not quite touching her. “House Traementis has a long history to answer for.”

That quiet, grim certainty wouldn’t have been out of place for the Rook. But surely the outlaw would have directed his justice at the Traementis, rather than at their enemies?

Unless the point was not justice, but atonement. “Well,” Renata sighed, “I’m doing my part on my mother’s behalf.”

Leato’s brow creased in curiosity. “Do you really think you can get our mothers to reconcile? You haven’t said much about that lately—at least not in my hearing.”

“Because I fear it’s a lost cause.” Renata trailed one hand along the edge of a display case. “I was foolish to try.”

“The world would be better if everyone suffered such foolishness.” He captured her hand and squeezed it. “Would you still want that? Not for your mother… but for yourself?”

Her breath caught, for an entirely different reason than Leato would assume. Was he offering to speak on her behalf to Donaia? For a fraction of a heartbeat, Ren wished she really were Letilia’s daughter—because then she truly could be returning to the embrace of the family her mother had lost.

But Ivrina hadn’t run away from her kureč; they’d cast her out. Because of her daughter. The only reconciliation Ren could get was a lie.

It was still better than having nothing.

Stifling the urge to draw away from Leato’s grip, she ran her thumb across his knuckles. “When I came here I feared you would see me only as her daughter. Getting out from under the weight of her errors… yes. I want that very much indeed.”

Isla Traementis, the Pearls: Pavnilun 14

“Meda Fienola is here with the chart you requested, era.”

Donaia blinked at Colbrin. She and Leato had been eyelash-deep in calculations for Derossi Vargo’s charter, trying to work out how much they could safely skim off the allocated funds to pay other debts, how rapidly House Traementis might see profits from the numinat, and how many deals they could make on the strength of those future profits. It took her a moment to realize what her majordomo meant.

Then she remembered, and swore softly. I forgot to tell her not to bother.

All that scrimping and saving to pay for Tanaquis’s services, asking Giuna to fish for information, all so Donaia could pry into Renata’s background and fate… but against all odds, and on the heels of Leato’s public humiliation of Mezzan Indestor, Letilia’s daughter had managed to secure a new charter. It hardly seemed to matter now whether she was as poor as Grey Serrado claimed. And she hadn’t spoken of reconciling Donaia to Letilia in months; she seemed content to make a place for herself in Nadežra, far from her insufferable mother.

But it was too late for Donaia to take back her request.

“Chart?” Leato uncurled from his hunch over the ledger, wincing as his shoulders cracked. “What did we need charted? And since when can we afford Tanaquis’s services?”

Quelling Leato’s questions with a glare, Donaia said, “Thank you, Colbrin. Please show her in.”

Leato stayed silent only for as long as it took the door to close. “Please tell me this isn’t to do with Renata.”

“It’s only sensible to find out what the stars have fated for her.”

“You still don’t trust that she means us no harm? This isn’t the old days, Mother. Not everyone outside of the family is our enemy. And even if they were, do you still number Renata among them?” He thumped the ledger to illustrate. “After all she’s done for us?”

Donaia was saved from answering by the door opening. Oblivious to the tension she’d walked in on, Tanaquis crouched to scratch behind Meatball’s ears. Her dove-pale