Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

“Curious?” Lord Kosenmark said.

Ilse took an immediate step back from the desk. “My apologies, my lord.”

He handed her his cup. “Please refill my cup. More water this time.”

She did as he ordered, cursing herself silently. More than one person had warned her about undue prying. Even Kathe, with all her quicksilver chatter, rarely gave away any secrets. Keeping her gaze averted from the map, she handed the cup to Lord Kosenmark.

“Tell me what you saw,” he asked mildly.

Without looking up, Hax said, “Do not tease her, my lord.” He held a scrap of paper in his hand and seemed to be comparing it to something on the map.

“I’m not. I’m being curious. Just as she was.”

Hax shrugged and went on studying the map. Kosenmark’s attention remained on Ilse.

“I saw a map, my lord,” she answered, somewhat breathlessly.

“Of what?”

“Of Károví and Veraene.”

“How do you know that? Are you versed in maps?”

She met his gaze as steadily as she dared. “I come from the north, my lord. I recognized the names of cities and mountains and rivers.”

“Indeed. Do you understand Károvín?”

“Dobru i nem, my lord. Good and not good.”

“Dobr’ velmi,” he replied. “Very well indeed.”

He continued to study her with that cool unnerving expression. Then Hax gave a soft exclamation. Kosenmark turned to his secretary. “What have you found, Berthold?”

“An interesting clue, my lord.”

“Ah.” Kosenmark waved Ilse away. “You may go. We shall serve ourselves.”

Ilse curtsied, but their attention had already returned to the map and Hax’s paper. She stacked the two trays together and quickly gathered up the rest of the dirty dishes. The two men were conversing in low tones, obviously still aware of her presence, but just as she exited the door, she heard Kosenmark’s voice saying, “I see your point, but can we trust Benik’s judgment?”

“I would,” Hax said. “Interesting that Armand has also …”

Armand of Angersee. What did Lord Kosenmark have to do with Veraene’s king? Or Károví’s coastline?

Only the memory of Kosenmark’s unnerving gaze kept her from pausing to listen. She shifted the tray to a more comfortable position and hastened back to the kitchen. Thankfully, the evening’s preparations had already begun, and an ordered chaos had taken hold of the huge room. Kathe, engaged in measuring out coffees and spices, looked up at Ilse’s appearance—a long questioning look. Ilse smiled as convincingly as she could, before turning to unload her tray and plunge into the next round of tasks.

* * *

THE FIRST RUSH had passed. Most of the girls were washing dishes, except for Lys, who kept the common room supplied with wine, and Rosel, whom Mistress Raendl had set to scrubbing the floors. Rosel’s eyes were bright, as though she had been crying. “Scut work,” Janna hissed in Ilse’s ear. “I told you.”

Ilse looked around the kitchen. Dana and Steffi scowled at her. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it better.”

“What if I told Mistress Raendl what happened?”

Janna’s eyes widened. She hesitated, then said, “Go ahead. I dare you.”

Ilse set down the plate she was washing and went to find Mistress Raendl.