Children of Earth and Sky by Guy Gavriel Kay Page B

devising, but you couldn’t always do that, and there was an opportunity worth seizing—if they could. A part of governance was planning ahead; another was responding to what was handed to you, however unexpectedly.
    They had needed someone without ties, without reasons to refuse them—as had been the case with the Valeri girl and the doctor. This young man—Viero Villani’s only son—was another such person. On the other hand, his entrance just now proclaimed him extremely unhappy. It was fair to note he had reason to be.
    â€œBe silent until you are addressed!” Lorenzo Arnesti snapped at the artist from halfway down the table.
    Arnesti was one of those here with ambitions. He wasn’t troubling to mask them. A mistake. Too soon to be so transparent.
    We don’t wear masks only at Carnival
.
    The duke remembered his uncle saying that. Years ago. Time could run away from a man. He raised a hand now, a ringed finger lifted in admonishment. Arnesti looked quickly at him, then smoothed his features. Masked them.
    The duke said, “The council apologizes for the manner of this, Signore Villani. There is a reason why your presence has been besought in this fashion. I trust you have not been injured and that you will permit us to explain?”
    â€œDo I have a choice, my lord duke? May I turn now and leave?”
    Perhaps a little too much bristling after a courteous greeting from power. The duke allowed his gaze to linger a moment before he replied. He marked, by the lamps to either side of the artist, that the pause did register.
    â€œOf course you may go. Our hope is that you are at least curious as to the proposal we wish to make, and will listen before you leave us.”
    Proposal
was the word that mattered. If the man was intelligent he’d catch it.
    He was, he did. Duke Ricci saw Villani’s son lower his gaze and take a moment to steady himself. His shoulders settled a little. He was quite young. It was a part of why he was here, of course. When he looked up it was with a different expression.
    â€œProposal?” he asked, as expected.
    Men were, Duke Ricci thought, not difficult to control most of the time. You just needed to have been doing it long enough. And have power, of course. You needed the ability to have them killed. His uncle had said something like that, too. The duke’s father had been one of those killed. Also many years ago.
    He said, “Let me say first that the council were all admirers of your father’s work, may Jad shelter him in light. In my own view he was a great master.” Flattery was almost always effective.
    Almost always. “Say you so, my lord duke?” said the younger Villani. “A great master? Such a shame that none of such a master’s work adorns the ducal palace.”
    There was, even after all these years, pleasure to be derived from encountering spirit and intelligence. He preferred it in a woman, or he had, but it tended to matter more in men. He didn’t have
time
for this tonight, but it did spark interest. He didn’t recall the father, met two or three times, being like this at all.
    â€œBut one of his works hangs even now in our envoy’s residence in Obravic,” he said. “The Arsenale seen from across the lagoon.” He was pleased with himself for remembering that. He doubted Lorenzo Arnesti would have.
    Villani’s son shrugged. “I know the work. It was part of the forced disposition of his property after death. Taken for a pittance. I understand the republic bought it for little more than that.”
    The duke managed a smile. He lifted a hand again, because Arnesti looked ready to interject. He said, “We Seressinis are well known for frugality in our purchases. But Signore Villani, I call your father to mind as a good man, loyal to the republic. Is his son the same?”
    Sometimes direct questions worked best. They could also unsettle a man. He watched this