Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

Dedrick came into the office and knelt at Kosenmark’s feet. “I came as soon as I heard. How are you?”

Kosenmark opened and closed his mouth, so plainly astonished that it took him a moment to answer. “I— Never mind how I am. How did you get back here? Did your father—”

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“He doesn’t know.” Dedrick took Kosenmark’s hands in his and kissed them. “I left home as soon as I heard about Berthold, my love. I even have a gift for you—one of those old books you like so much. I found it on a trip into town, in between drudging about on the estates with my brother. The bookseller tells me it’s quite rare.”

“The baron will not be pleased,” Kosenmark murmured.

Dedrick exhaled sharply and let his gaze drop to their hands. “No. He will not. I shall have to persuade him with soft words and clever arguments. At least this time I have my sister’s support in the matter. That should count for something.”

Kosenmark closed his eyes. He seemed not to hear Dedrick’s flow of words, explaining how he first heard the news in a letter from his sister, Lady Alia, who had it from someone else among the Queen’s Companions, and that several days before Raul’s own letter had arrived. Ilse had once thought Kosenmark’s face unreadable. Today she could read his emotions far too easily. He looked, she thought, like a starved man come upon an unexpected feast.

“Come upstairs,” he said in a hoarse voice. “We must talk. Now.”

Without saying more, he led Dedrick from the room and the two were soon running up the stairs. As the door swung shut, Ilse could hear their voices echoing from the stairwell. She let out a long breath. So. The beloved had returned. Hardly surprising, given their long attachment. Why then did her head hurt so?

I’m an idiot. A selfish blind idiot.

With greater force than necessary, she rolled up the map, scattering markers over the floor. Ilse cursed fluently and gathered them up from the corners of her office. She stowed everything away and cleared off her desk. Letters, she thought. I can always sort letters.

She used up a half hour, but when she found herself rereading each letter six times without comprehending its contents, she stopped. No use working today. As Lord Kosenmark had said, they had a drought of news from all quarters. And Lord Kosenmark would not conduct any more business today, except that of the most personal kind.

Her stomach twinged. Enough, she told herself. She washed her face, and drank deeply of the water in her room. Tepid and stale, it nevertheless washed away the bitter taste in her mouth.

Downstairs, the common room was relatively quiet. Lord Iani was asleep on the couch, his head on Lady Theysson’s lap. Adelaide and Johanna sat apart, involved in some private conversation, but Eduard and Josef were talking with Lady Theysson and Lothar Faulk, one of Lord Kosenmark’s senior agents who oversaw the network of couriers and runners. Nadine perched on the corner of a nearby chair, weaving intricate patterns with a length of string.

“Have they vanished for the day?” Lady Theysson said.

“I believe so,” Ilse said. She settled herself on one of the chairs.

Nadine paused in her weaving and glanced at Ilse, a brief searching look. Ilse smiled faintly and shrugged. Nadine’s eyebrows lifted into an arch, but she resumed her weaving without comment.

“It was his wife who didn’t understand,” Eduard said.

They were talking about Hax again, obviously.

“Perhaps they both misunderstood each other,” Lady Theysson said. “Think, Eduard. He left her with three small children so he might study military history. You must admit that Berthold should have discussed the matter with her first.”

“He did. She refused to listen.”

“So he said.”

“Perhaps she loved him too much,” Josef said musingly.

“Hardly,” Nadine said. “She wanted to possess him. When he refused, she broke off the marriage.”

“A very strange way of possessing him,” Lady Theysson said.

“A very strange love,” Nadine said. “But consider, she never remarried, nor did he.” With a grand gesture, she unraveled her string. “But I say we’ve talked enough for the day. Eduard, go fetch us something to drink. And ask Mistress Raendl for those tasty sugar biscuits. The kind without the raisins.”

“I like the raisins.”

“They remind me of ants,” Nadine said tartly. “Go.” She waved her string at him.

Laughing, he went off to the kitchens and soon returned with a heavily laden tray. Nadine picked up one of the powdered biscuits and made a face. “Ants,” she murmured. She glared at Eduard, who grinned back. “Your punishment is to serve all these lovely people,” she declared. “All except Mistress Ilse, whose devoted servant I am.”

Lady Theysson tweaked Lord Iani’s ear. He woke with a snort. “Dinner?” he asked sleepily.