Queen's Hunt (River of Souls 2)

He knew why and did not like to think about it.

Scowling, he buried himself in paperwork. At some point, Hanne came with his noon meal tray. He nibbled at the bread and drank down his coffee. The grilled fish he set aside for one of the house cats, a recent innovation by Nadine. Report came back from Ralf at noon, saying they were signed on with the crew. Another report, from the captain this time, confirmed that the ship’s victualing was nearly complete. If all went well, the ship could sail in another day.

A loud knock at the door startled him. Gerek hastily covered the ship’s paperwork with some blank sheets of paper. “Come in.”

He had hoped it would be Kathe. He expected a runner, or one of the kitchen girls to fetch away his tray. Instead the door opened on Nadine.

She wore her finest courtesan’s costume—a silk gown of dark apricot that flowed like a waterfall over her slim body. Her dark hair swept back from her narrow face and made a second shadow waterfall, which hung over her bare shoulder.

Nadine remained at the door. Her expression was one of curiosity and faint impatience.

“Yes,” he said at last.

She arched one delicate eyebrow. “I came,” she said softly, “because I am a friend. Also, one day I would like to turn messenger for idiots and fools. I have so much practice in this household. Do not stare so blankly,” she went on, “or I shall be moved to violence. The message is not from another. It comes from you, Maester Gerek Hessler. Or rather, it should.”

Gerek swallowed to calm his throat muscles. “Who—”

“That would spoil the surprise,” Nadine said. “Go to the spider room this instant. Never mind about those papers on your desk. Go. Give your message. You will understand once you have.”

She gave a magnificent flourish with one hand—the gesture clearly meant as mockery—and dropped into deep bow. Before Gerek could react, Nadine withdrew from his office with a dancer’s grace.

Gerek stared at the closed door. It had to be a prank. What else? Nadine and Eduard were famous for them. But until today, they had ignored Gerek. He had supposed, at first

, that his position safeguarded him, but conversations with Kathe soon corrected that belief. Nadine teased and tormented everyone, from Mistress Denk and Mistress Raendl to the newest stable boys, without regard for rank. She had teased Ilse Zhalina and Maester Hax in their days, too. So then he had assumed she found him too ordinary to bother with. Was this sudden change a part of the strange mood infesting the house?

Or was it something else?

Cursing himself for a fool, he put aside his papers. He checked all the locked boxes and set the bolts and spells on his office. If they wanted to make him into a fool, he was used to that, but he would not neglect Lord Kosenmark’s orders about discretion, even inside the pleasure house.

The spider room was on the second floor in the east wing. He had passed by its door several times, but had never ventured inside. It was a luxurious room—almost too luxurious. Kosenmark once called it his finest extravagance. Courtesans used the room for special clients. Gerek hurried down the stairs. He noted no one waiting about as if watching for him. He crossed over to the east wing, which was equally empty in the early afternoon.

Pulsing thrumming in his ears, he entered the spider room.

A web of lace fluttered at his entrance. He started, thinking at first someone else had disturbed those hangings. But the lace floated downward into stillness, and the scent of rose petals whirled around him in the empty room.

Gerek released a long breath. I should be used to this. My sisters. My cousins.

Behind him sounded a flight of quick light footsteps on the tile floor. He spun around to see the door flung open and Kathe hurrying into the room. At the sight of him, she checked herself. “Nadine said a messenger came for me.”

Gerek opened his mouth, but his tongue refused to work. Kathe turned to go. With an effort, he pressed down the trembling in his throat. “Kathe. Please.”

She paused, her face turned away from his, only the outline of her cheek, and the clear tense line of her jaw visible in the lamplight. Nadine was right, he thought. He had only one chance to deliver this message. And quickly.

“I— It’s about the book,” he managed to say.

Her mouth curved into a pensive smile. “Yes, thank you. It was a thoughtful gift.”

It was more than a gift, he wanted to say. It was a curiosity, a moment of pleasure, a thank-you for the kindness she had shown him. It was all the words he could not, dared not utter out loud. Ah, but he had to speak—now. If he did not, she would vanish into the kitchen. And he would never have such a chance again.

“I-I lied to you,” he said.

Kathe spun around. “You lied?”

Those were not the words he meant to say, but having said them, he realized they were the truth. He gulped down a breath and prayed to Lir to keep his tongue under control. “Yes. My name. My n-name is Gerek Haszler. Dedrick Maszuryn was my cousin.”

The dark flush along her cheeks faded. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Lord Dedrick. He was your cousin?”

He could not tell if that were a good or a bad thing. He stumbled on, keeping to the truth. It was all he had to offer now. “Yes. He was. I-I came because. Because he … died.”