sons."
"Surely in two hundred years… Now that you say it, I realise you are right. Why do you think that is?"
A doubt crept in Luia's mind but she did not speak it; that perhaps Luissa was not the child of Urikh. There was no proof, of course, and such a thing would only harm Urikh. It was best not to speculate.
"Perhaps in previous generations, the daughters have been whisked away by the Brotherhood; like your grandmother was supposed to be."
"Pretaa was a court harlot, not a daughter of the Blood."
Urikh sat up and swung his feet to the floor so that he was sitting beside his mother. He leaned forward, elbow on knee, chin on fist, and stared into the still water of the bath. Luia feared for a moment that he was considering the possibility of Neerlima's infidelity.
"It is astounding to think about it," said Urikh. He shook his head in bemusement. "What a slender chance it is that we are here. Or that I am here, at least."
"What slender chance? You mean Ullsaard's defeat of Lutaar? No, that was not chance. For all that he annoys me with his crude ways, your father can be a great man. And do not forget, you played a large part in his success as well."
"No, not that," said Urikh. He scratched his chin, eyes narrowed. "Pretaa should have been taken by the Brotherhood because she carried the seed of one of the Blood but was not a wife. It was chance that Cosuas helped her to escape. Who can say what course would have been charted if not for that tiny thing?"
"Yes, dear, but to think of all the chance circumstance that brought us all here is to invite madness. My grandmother was rescued from Ersuan brigands by my grandfather. But for that, I might not exist. Last week it rained and I did not go to the market. The smallest thing, maybe, but who can say what might have happened had the sun shone? Maybe I would have overheard a conspiracy, or bought a dress that attracted the eye of a handsome man, or perhaps berated a jewelsmith for charging too much, leaving him annoyed so that he beats his wife when he gets home.
"Do not second-guess what has happened in the past, and do not think that chance has no part to play in the future. But chance and luck are not the same thing. The gambler relies on luck, and you are no gambler, dear. The man who plans, the man who thinks, a man like you, knows when chance favours him and seizes the opportunity."
Urikh sat up, a half-smile on his lips. He leaned over and planted a delicate kiss on Luia's cheek.
"What was that for?" she asked, startled by the uncharacteristic gesture.
"Thanking chance that I have your intelligence, and not father's," Urikh said. "Ullsaard undervalues you."
"You are wrong," said Luia. "How many other men would tolerate me? I openly defy him in front of others, and my appetite for other men is no secret. I was the same when he married Allenya, and he has had ample reason and opportunity to do away with me."
"It is only for Allenya's sake that he has not."
"In part. He loves Allenya, and lusts after Meliu like she is a bitch in heat. He keeps me around for a different reason."
Luia stopped herself. She did not want to say too much. She could not admit that in her heart she respected Ullsaard, even loved him for being the father of her son. How could she explain that it was not perversity that made her wayward, but a desire to see her husband strong, though on occasion she did get some delight from seeing him fume and splutter at her behaviour?
In the depths of the building a servant chimed the turn of Howling. Luia stood up briskly and patted Urikh on the cheek. He squirmed at the matronly gesture; he had done the same ever since coming of age, and Luia loved that it infuriated him.
"Dinner will be served shortly, get dressed," she said. "And think carefully about Neerlima and Luissa. You cannot keep either of them hidden in the palace forever. Just think on it."
Urikh nodded,
"Surely in two hundred years… Now that you say it, I realise you are right. Why do you think that is?"
A doubt crept in Luia's mind but she did not speak it; that perhaps Luissa was not the child of Urikh. There was no proof, of course, and such a thing would only harm Urikh. It was best not to speculate.
"Perhaps in previous generations, the daughters have been whisked away by the Brotherhood; like your grandmother was supposed to be."
"Pretaa was a court harlot, not a daughter of the Blood."
Urikh sat up and swung his feet to the floor so that he was sitting beside his mother. He leaned forward, elbow on knee, chin on fist, and stared into the still water of the bath. Luia feared for a moment that he was considering the possibility of Neerlima's infidelity.
"It is astounding to think about it," said Urikh. He shook his head in bemusement. "What a slender chance it is that we are here. Or that I am here, at least."
"What slender chance? You mean Ullsaard's defeat of Lutaar? No, that was not chance. For all that he annoys me with his crude ways, your father can be a great man. And do not forget, you played a large part in his success as well."
"No, not that," said Urikh. He scratched his chin, eyes narrowed. "Pretaa should have been taken by the Brotherhood because she carried the seed of one of the Blood but was not a wife. It was chance that Cosuas helped her to escape. Who can say what course would have been charted if not for that tiny thing?"
"Yes, dear, but to think of all the chance circumstance that brought us all here is to invite madness. My grandmother was rescued from Ersuan brigands by my grandfather. But for that, I might not exist. Last week it rained and I did not go to the market. The smallest thing, maybe, but who can say what might have happened had the sun shone? Maybe I would have overheard a conspiracy, or bought a dress that attracted the eye of a handsome man, or perhaps berated a jewelsmith for charging too much, leaving him annoyed so that he beats his wife when he gets home.
"Do not second-guess what has happened in the past, and do not think that chance has no part to play in the future. But chance and luck are not the same thing. The gambler relies on luck, and you are no gambler, dear. The man who plans, the man who thinks, a man like you, knows when chance favours him and seizes the opportunity."
Urikh sat up, a half-smile on his lips. He leaned over and planted a delicate kiss on Luia's cheek.
"What was that for?" she asked, startled by the uncharacteristic gesture.
"Thanking chance that I have your intelligence, and not father's," Urikh said. "Ullsaard undervalues you."
"You are wrong," said Luia. "How many other men would tolerate me? I openly defy him in front of others, and my appetite for other men is no secret. I was the same when he married Allenya, and he has had ample reason and opportunity to do away with me."
"It is only for Allenya's sake that he has not."
"In part. He loves Allenya, and lusts after Meliu like she is a bitch in heat. He keeps me around for a different reason."
Luia stopped herself. She did not want to say too much. She could not admit that in her heart she respected Ullsaard, even loved him for being the father of her son. How could she explain that it was not perversity that made her wayward, but a desire to see her husband strong, though on occasion she did get some delight from seeing him fume and splutter at her behaviour?
In the depths of the building a servant chimed the turn of Howling. Luia stood up briskly and patted Urikh on the cheek. He squirmed at the matronly gesture; he had done the same ever since coming of age, and Luia loved that it infuriated him.
"Dinner will be served shortly, get dressed," she said. "And think carefully about Neerlima and Luissa. You cannot keep either of them hidden in the palace forever. Just think on it."
Urikh nodded,
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