The Will of the Empress - Page 73/132

“Does she favor girls, then?” Berenene asked. She smiled up at Briar. “You see I will introduce her to anyone who might persuade her to make her home with us.”

Briar scratched his head, then remembered it was vulgar to do so in normal company. “I don’t know,” he replied frankly. “But Sandry won’t stay for a pretty face, whoever it belongs to. Some plants grow where they will, Your Majesty. You know that. Coax them, water them, light them, repot them, do as you like, they will only grow where they have decided to. The only way you can make them do as you bid is to kill them, which seems like a waste, if you ask me.” He smiled cheerfully at her. “But there, I’m just a scruffy gardener, dirt under my nails and in my ears. I do better with what plants grow best next to which vegetables than I do with matches between people.”

Berenene took a breath. Is she going to scorch me for my uppitiness? wondered Briar. Turn her mage boy on me? Or take it from one gardener to another?

The empress released her breath and reached out to slap Briar’s arm with her free hand. “You are a vexatious youth, and an honest one. You have my leave to bring me some fresh berries from the food table.”

It took a polite, blushing excuse that hinted of a need to use the privy to free Sandry of the courtiers who had swirled around her since Berenene’s arrival. The moment she was out of everyone’s view, she ran down two connecting hallways and out into the garden for some quiet.

What is wrong with them? she wondered, thinking mostly of Jak and Fin. They’re sweet and funny and perfectly decent companions, except for wanting to flirt. Then my cousin arrives. Suddenly they act like every word from my lips is struck in solid gold! Green Man snarl them in vines if they cluster around me like that again! It’s that or I’ll set their breeches to dropping. See if they fawn over me while they hold their pants up.

Scowling, she found a bench in the herb garden and sat, letting the smells of rosemary and basil soothe her rattled nerves. With her eyes closed, she could pretend she was back on the step of Discipline cottage, bathing in the scents that came from Rosethorn’s herbs.

She opened her eyes at last. My problems aren’t at Discipline. They’re here, and they have to be faced. I can handle Jak and Fin—I’ve been doing it since we got here. If they were the only ones bothering me, I’d send them about their business! The problem is, they aren’t the only ones. At least three other of Berenene’s…lapdogs have been sticking to me like burrs! How do I get her to call them off?

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know anyone was out here,” a man’s voice said. “Forgive me.”

Sandry turned and ignored the treacherous bump of her heart at the sight of Pershan fer Roth. Green is a very good color for him, she thought, and smiled. “No, it’s all right,” she replied. “Unless you wanted privacy?”

He returned the smile, his brown eyes dancing. “I was just going for a walk. You’re the one who looks as if she would enjoy some privacy. Or perhaps enjoy murdering someone.”

Sandry put her hands to her forehead. “I don’t like to be crowded,” she explained. “I was being dreadfully crowded back there.”

Someone had built a bench around a very old apple tree. Shan sat there, his long legs crossed before him, and leaned back. “How’s this? I’m not crowding you in the least.”

Sandry giggled. “Thank you,” she told him. “But wouldn’t you have more fun with the rest of the court?”

“Maybe sometimes I feel crowded, too,” he replied. “You should see my family’s lands. They’re a bit like Landreg, only at the feet of the mountains. On a good day you can gallop for miles without seeing another living soul.” He smiled, his eyes closed. “I used to shove bread and cheese into my saddlebags, maybe some apples, and just…ride.” He opened his eyes to grin at her. “Fin and Jak finally remembered to be attentive to you.”

“I almost had them broken of the habit before today,” Sandry replied tartly.

“Poor little caged bird,” drawled Shan. “Look at it this way: If you marry one of them, they’ll leave you alone afterward.”

Sandry glowered at him. “There’s more to marriage than being left alone when you like it. And all this scrambling for my attention—having all these boys thrown at my head, it’s just so…undignified. Frankly, my cousin doesn’t strike me as the crude type.”

Shan grinned. “Ah, but you see, she’s the victim of her own success. Since she took power, she’s been slowly reducing the great estates of the realm, through taxes, and marriages, other stratagems. She offered one not-very-bright fellow a dukedom over thousands of acres near the Sea of Grass if he signed over his extremely wealthy Saghadat on the western shore of the Syth. Now he finds himself building castles and trying to create wealth from grass and nomads…” He realized he’d come to a full stop and chuckled. “Sorry, I still find it funny. Anyway, the last untouched great holding, apart from the Ocmore lands, is—”

“Landreg,” said Sandry.

“Landreg,” replied Shan with a nod. “The man who weds you not only has a delightful lady for his wife—” Sandry glared at him, making Shan laugh. He continued: “He also has a very, very deep purse, as well as any alliances you may form with the Mages’ Council. Since Ambros has saved you from losing lands to pay taxes, Her Imperial Majesty now has to scramble to keep you from the courtship of a man who is more seasoned and experienced. Someone who isn’t under her thumb. She is putting you in the way of the young men she is sure of, men she can control even after they’re married to you.”