Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

Raul must have read her thoughts from her face, because he murmured, “I promise no one will bother you. They must see that it’s different between us. But if you would rather stay within the grounds, that, too, would be a delight.”

Extravagant. Like a brief and gaudy fire. She suppressed that thought. “I’m not afraid. Let us go and hear these famous musicians.”

But Raul was not content to leave their schedule to chance. He rambled on about how they might spend their holiday together. Breakfast first. Then they might drill together, though Ault would surely scold them for being so tardy. Afterward, would she like to walk through the gardens? It seemed as though Raul wanted to make up for the month’s lost hours. When Ilse protested, he reluctantly admitted that she should leave him long enough to bathe and dress in clean clothes.

Ilse returned to find Steffi and Janna laying out dishes on the table by the windows. Raul immediately came forward and took her by the hand. “What took you so long?” he said with a smile, as he escorted her to her chair. Ilse glanced around in time to catch Janna’s surprised look.

Janna leaned and whispered to Steffi. Ilse’s cheeks warmed. Raul, apparently oblivious, sat opposite her and poured coffee for them both. Only after the two girls left did he shake his head. “Everyone will know within the day. Do you mind?”

“No.” She smiled. “No, I don’t.”

“Evidently not because you aren’t hiccupping. Come, let us discuss our holiday.”

“Half a holiday,” she countered, thinking that he was too much like Nadine. They were both the children of wind and storm and unquenchable fire. Nadine. Ilse had a moment

’s qualm. They would have to talk, she and Nadine. But now Raul was eyeing her with curiosity.

“Why half a holiday?” he asked.

“Because if I insist on half, then you will agree to one holiday and not ten. What about Mistress Denk’s accounts? And reviewing the tax assessment? What about,” she dropped her voice, “our work for the kingdom?”

That had an even stronger effect than she had anticipated. “Our work, yes.” He let out a sigh. “We had news from our friend last night. Duke Feltzen. It concerns Armand and our recent diplomatic exchange.”

Feint. Parry. Strike. The next move was to disarm, she thought. “Did Armand send him?”

“I cannot tell, though I suspect Lord Khandarr did. The duke himself is just as he claims—a colleague of my father, a loyal subject who is concerned about Veraene’s welfare, even above his own. He had heard how I opposed the war talk and came with news that Armand is reconsidering his approach to Károví. If we can believe it, Armand now speaks of diplomats instead of troop levies, and whenever a councillor proposes conflict, he recommends caution and tact and taking the long view.”

Ilse studied his face. “But you don’t believe him.”

“I don’t know. We must confirm the news, of course.”

“It sounds … hopeful.”

“It’s meant to.” He vented a long breath, still obviously troubled. “But that, too, can wait. Let us enjoy the harmony and tranquillity of now and here.”

“Even though tomorrow’s shadow reaches toward us?” she murmured.

“It reaches and yet cannot touch, for when it does, tomorrow becomes today,” he replied. “You are right about tomorrow, my love, but I want and need a day that concerns us alone.”

At drill, Maester Ault observed their performance with a face even blanker than usual. Once, Ilse thought she detected a glimmer of amusement in those dark eyes. Before she could decide, Ault barked at her to pay attention. He lectured Raul even harder, driving him through his sword patterns at a speed that turned the blades into gray blurs.

“Dismissed,” he said. “My lord, I see you found your point of concentration at last.”

Raul shot him a quick look, but Ault’s hooded eyes revealed nothing. Ilse turned away at once and busied herself with putting away her weapons. Within the day, Raul had said, but it seemed everyone had discovered it far sooner.

“Come.” Raul touched her arm lightly. “We can bathe and return to our plans.”

Ilse glanced from him to Ault, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, ostensibly gazing skyward. “Yes, but separately,” she murmured. “Not together.”

Raul followed the direction of her glance. “Yes. I think you are right. We should be somewhat discreet. For today,” he added under his breath.

But during the walk from the courtyard to the baths, Ilse had the impression of many eyes, like a constant light flickering of tiny raindrops over her skin. First there was Ault, who bade them good-bye and a good-day, but when Ilse glanced around as they left, she caught a speculative look on his face. Then there were the bath attendants, whose faces were utterly bland as she and Raul parted into separate bath chambers, but Ilse heard their whispers as the doors closed.

Raul finished before she did, leaving a message for her to join him in his office. The bath attendant’s voice was nothing but polite, but Ilse caught the woman’s curious glance as she turned away. Then, on her way to the fourth floor, she encountered Hanne, returning with an empty tray. Hanne went wide-eyed, then ducked her head and hurried past. A moment later, Kathe appeared on the stairs. She, too, carried a tray, and she was smiling with undisguised delight.

“Since when do you carry trays?” Ilse asked, somewhat archly.

“You know how long,” Kathe said with a laugh. “And you, since when do you sleep until late morning, now that you aren’t one of my kitchen girls?”