of the dayrooms are down on the ground level—the library, the winter dining room, my study, Maeroja’s study. There are root cellars and storage areas below. The kitchen is on the west end…”
Lerial listens.
The corridor is not that long, no more than ten yards before they walk through an open door and into a center square courtyard. A roof that extends some four yards from the villa runs all the way around the courtyard, creating a covered terrace that surrounds the center fountain, which contains four sprays, each one situated so that it geysers into the air opposite the middle of each wall. A walk runs from each spray to the terrace, and between the four walks are four small gardens. The one that is to Lerial’s immediate right, as he follows Altyrn to the left, appears to contain miniature fruit trees.
“Maeroja is quite the gardener … and quite the grower. I just listen to her.”
Lerial is certain that is something his father would never have said. “How did you meet her?”
“Did you mean to ask if she happens to be local?” Altyrn’s voice is dry.
Lerial is so taken aback that he blurts out, “I never even thought of that.”
Abruptly, Altyrn laughs. “Good for you.” Then he glances toward the woman and the three girls who stand waiting for them just around the corner of the courtyard. He shakes his head. “The girls actually put on dresses. I haven’t seen them that fancied up in eightdays.”
Since Lerial’s sister and cousin are younger, and since his mother and aunt are healers, he can’t recall, offhand, seeing many dresses around the palace in Cigoerne.
The majer stops short of his family. “Lerial, might I present my wife, Maeroja, and my daughters, Rojana, Tyrna, and Aylana?”
Lerial sets down his kit and inclines his head. “I’m honored to meet all of you, and I do appreciate your kindness in allowing me to be here.” Even though he suspects that the majer may not have had that much choice, his father would not have imposed if the majer had not been at least somewhat willing.
“We’re the ones who are honored,” replies Maeroja.
As Lerial looks at Maeroja, she seems to be only a few years older than he is, but he has to doubt that, since the tallest girl is less than half a head shorter than he is, suggesting she is close to his age. Maeroja is also, he realizes, rather striking, with jet-black hair, a slightly tanned skin, and penetrating blue eyes. Her smile is warm, but … unsettling, almost ironic, he thinks. He almost stammers, but manages to respond. “Not … from what I see. I’m the one most honored.”
Altyrn smiles, then says to his wife, “Lord Kiedron will be returning for dinner in little more than a glass.”
“We will be ready.” Maeroja turns her eyes on Lerial. “I thought the girls could show you to your chamber, and you might wish to wash up before rejoining us for something cool to drink before dinner.”
“I would appreciate that very much.”
“Rojana … if you would show Lerial?”
The tallest girl, who has her mother’s complexion and hair, but her father’s gray eyes, smiles. “Lord Lerial…”
“Lerial … please. I’m just a younger son.”
“This way…” Rojana turns and walks south to the corridor in the middle of the east side of the villa, then steps inside.
Lerial can see that the corridor continues to the main entrance and a circular entry hall, although the light is dim, yet Rojana does not continue toward the hall, but heads up the narrow steps, open on one side except for a railing. Lerial picks up his bag and follows her. The two other girls trail him.
At the top of the steps Rojana pauses, then walks back toward the courtyard along a hallway directly above the one below. “Everyone’s chambers overlook the courtyard. The upper balcony goes all the way around it.” She turns right at the balcony and follows it around until she stops at a door just past midway along the north side of the
Lerial listens.
The corridor is not that long, no more than ten yards before they walk through an open door and into a center square courtyard. A roof that extends some four yards from the villa runs all the way around the courtyard, creating a covered terrace that surrounds the center fountain, which contains four sprays, each one situated so that it geysers into the air opposite the middle of each wall. A walk runs from each spray to the terrace, and between the four walks are four small gardens. The one that is to Lerial’s immediate right, as he follows Altyrn to the left, appears to contain miniature fruit trees.
“Maeroja is quite the gardener … and quite the grower. I just listen to her.”
Lerial is certain that is something his father would never have said. “How did you meet her?”
“Did you mean to ask if she happens to be local?” Altyrn’s voice is dry.
Lerial is so taken aback that he blurts out, “I never even thought of that.”
Abruptly, Altyrn laughs. “Good for you.” Then he glances toward the woman and the three girls who stand waiting for them just around the corner of the courtyard. He shakes his head. “The girls actually put on dresses. I haven’t seen them that fancied up in eightdays.”
Since Lerial’s sister and cousin are younger, and since his mother and aunt are healers, he can’t recall, offhand, seeing many dresses around the palace in Cigoerne.
The majer stops short of his family. “Lerial, might I present my wife, Maeroja, and my daughters, Rojana, Tyrna, and Aylana?”
Lerial sets down his kit and inclines his head. “I’m honored to meet all of you, and I do appreciate your kindness in allowing me to be here.” Even though he suspects that the majer may not have had that much choice, his father would not have imposed if the majer had not been at least somewhat willing.
“We’re the ones who are honored,” replies Maeroja.
As Lerial looks at Maeroja, she seems to be only a few years older than he is, but he has to doubt that, since the tallest girl is less than half a head shorter than he is, suggesting she is close to his age. Maeroja is also, he realizes, rather striking, with jet-black hair, a slightly tanned skin, and penetrating blue eyes. Her smile is warm, but … unsettling, almost ironic, he thinks. He almost stammers, but manages to respond. “Not … from what I see. I’m the one most honored.”
Altyrn smiles, then says to his wife, “Lord Kiedron will be returning for dinner in little more than a glass.”
“We will be ready.” Maeroja turns her eyes on Lerial. “I thought the girls could show you to your chamber, and you might wish to wash up before rejoining us for something cool to drink before dinner.”
“I would appreciate that very much.”
“Rojana … if you would show Lerial?”
The tallest girl, who has her mother’s complexion and hair, but her father’s gray eyes, smiles. “Lord Lerial…”
“Lerial … please. I’m just a younger son.”
“This way…” Rojana turns and walks south to the corridor in the middle of the east side of the villa, then steps inside.
Lerial can see that the corridor continues to the main entrance and a circular entry hall, although the light is dim, yet Rojana does not continue toward the hall, but heads up the narrow steps, open on one side except for a railing. Lerial picks up his bag and follows her. The two other girls trail him.
At the top of the steps Rojana pauses, then walks back toward the courtyard along a hallway directly above the one below. “Everyone’s chambers overlook the courtyard. The upper balcony goes all the way around it.” She turns right at the balcony and follows it around until she stops at a door just past midway along the north side of the
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