Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

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She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t see Hanne huddled on the floor until too late. Her feet tangled in Hanne’s skirt, and she tripped, her tray flying out of her hands. Ilse landed hard on the tiled floor and banged knees and elbows. Beneath her Hanne cried out in alarm.

“Hanne, I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

“It’s all right,” Hanne said quickly. “It’s all right. I’m—”

She broke off with a muffled groan. Worried, Ilse knelt and peered at the girl’s tear-streaked face. Hanne’s face looked gray and drawn, her cheek felt warm and damp. “What’s wrong, Hanne?”

“Nothing. It’s all right. I just wanted to rest a bit before I—” She gestured at a tray Ilse had not noticed before—a dish with strawberries, wine carafe, and cups. One of the courtesans must have an early appointment.

“Would you like me to take the tray for you?” Ilse asked.

Hanne shook her head vigorously. “No. I can get by. It’s just the pains, but they’ll pass. They did last month.”

Cramps, then. Bad ones. No wonder the poor girl looked so miserable. “Tell Mistress Raendl. She’d let you lie down, I’m sure.”

“No!” Now Hanne looked terrified. “I don’t want the other girls to know. None of them get sick and I don’t want to make Mistress Raendl angry. I”—she pressed a hand against her stomach—“I’m fine.”

Ilse brushed away a damp strand of hair that had escaped Hanne’s headscarf. “You should talk to Mistress Hedda the next time she visits the house. She has medicine that helps. But for tonight … What if we trade? You can take my tray back to the kitchen. I’ll take yours. Where does it go?”

The other girl appeared to struggle inside a moment. “Spider room. Second floor. East wing. For Adelaide. But I thought you didn’t like …”

“I don’t mind. And the rotten potatoes can wait a few moments longer for me to scrub them away.”

Hanne called up a wan smile in return. “Thank you.”

The spider room was called such because its walls were hung with silvery lacework, shaped and gathered into cloud-shaped webs. A canopy over the bed was of filmy chiffon, dotted with miniscule diamonds to reflect lamplight. Ilse arranged dishes and other items on a side table. She was nearly done when she heard a heavy tread behind her.

“We must be early,” said a husky voice.

An older woman stood in the doorway—a tall, heavyset woman swathed in layers of ruby silks and gray wool. She had a strongly marked face, its deep creases emphasized by the lamplight. Ilse recognized Mistress Luise Ehrenalt, a high-ranking member of the silk weaver’s guild. Behind her came Adelaide, who glided into the room and laid a hand on Ehrenalt’s arm. “Come, Luise. The girl is just leaving. And we’ve your favorite— strawberries.”

Luise laughed. “You are my favorite, sweet. Or weren’t you listening to me?”

Their attention on each other, they ignored Ilse, who took up the now-empty tray and withdrew. When she had offered to take the tray for Hanne, she had not thought about seeing the courtesans or their clients. Now, as the door closed, she heard Luise’s throaty laugh and Adelaide’s murmured replies. How did Adelaide manage it? Was it truly as she told Kathe—that she saw Mistress Ehrenalt as just an audience? But Ilse had heard genuine affection in the courtesan’s voice, and now … now it did not sound as though she were acting.

I have to see how she does it.

Her heart beating faster, Ilse passed through another room and into the servants’ corridor, which ran between and around the private rooms. Kathe had mentioned spy holes her first day. Since then, Ilse had learned which rooms had them and how they were concealed. She checked in both directions and saw the corridor was empty. She set the tray on the floor and rose onto her toes to peer through the spy hole.

The spider web’s filmy hanging made everything hazy, but Ilse could make out two shadowy figures. Adelaide, taller and slimmer, was feeding strawberries to Luise Ehrenalt, caressing her face as she did. Luise caught her hand and kissed it. The next moment, the two moved swiftly to the bed.

Luise sank down. Still standing, Adelaide drew her tunic over her head and let the filmy cloth drift onto the floor. Lamplight accentuated her muscles as they slid beneath her radiant skin, reminding Ilse of Lord Kosenmark and how he moved. A royal courtesan. Some said she had pleasured Baerne of Angersee himself. And yet she had abandoned such a position to come here, to Tiralien.

Adelaide untied her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Ilse held herself still, hardly breathing. She had to see Adelaide’s face at the moment of passion. Did she pretend, as Ilse had? Was it possible to tell?

“What are you looking at?”

Ilse spun from the spy hole. Lord Kosenmark stood one pace behind her in the corridor, his face half-hidden by the dim light. Quickly, she knelt to pick up the tray. “My lord. I’m sorry I was dawdling. I didn’t mean to—”

Kosenmark stopped her with a gesture. “You’re weeping.”

She hadn’t known, couldn’t recall starting, but her cheeks were wet. More tears spilled when she jerked her head away, falling like stars. Kosenmark knelt in front of her, still a safe distance away. “What happened?”

“Nothing, my lord. I was … watching.”

“Why?”