Harmony.
Upstairs he heard a scraping. Rats were already at work in the house. Eilla would surely not have thought to wait for him upstairs; by unspoken convention they had never gone so far from the
exit. He felt a prickling at his neck. He would not be able to rest until he had investigated. He would quickly check around and then return to the castle. He would work out how to find Eilla
tomorrow.
Taking the steps two at a time, stumbling in the dark, Arren made his way up the stairs.
5
Mettingloom
1
At King Fanrolio’s command, the musicians around the ballroom set up a leisurely air. These dances were designed to facilitate conversation rather than exercise.
Dancing was essentially a foppish activity, not suited to the military temperament, and Beauceron saw General Virnesto scowling as he looked for a chair; but Beauceron had always enjoyed it. He
could glide with a slow and easy rhythm and carried himself to advantage. If a suitable partner presented herself he would be happy to step out.
He noticed that Davanzato had swiftly secured Lady Isola’s company. The room was not awash with women who combined youth, beauty and crisp deportment, and Beauceron disdained to dance with
inferior materials. He resolved to wait the dance out until a partner like Lady Letteria or Lady Romina became available. He looked around to notice Prince Brissio’s eyes lingering on Lady
Cosetta hungrily. Her rich new gown of russet and burgundy set off her blonde hair. Presumably Davanzato, as her ransom agent, had provided it.
Cosetta was no longer any of his concern, but she could not profit from closer association with the loutish Prince Brissio. ‘Lady Cosetta,’ he called. ‘Would you do me the
honour?’
Cosetta turned away from Brissio and inclined her head. ‘Why not?’ she said with an approach to a smile. Brissio shot Beauceron a glance which he ignored: time to worry about his
cloddish antagonism later.
‘I trust you are settling in well to your new surroundings, Lady Cosetta,’ he said as they began their stately dance.
‘I cannot believe you are befriending me after all that you have done,’ said Cosetta without heat. Beauceron thought her eyes most becoming.
‘The past is the past, Lady Cosetta. For good or ill, we cannot change it. I am glad to see you embracing your new circumstances.’
She leaned forward and Beauceron caught a whiff of subtle fragrance. He deftly steered them out of the path of a less agile couple. ‘In truth,’ she said, ‘I am not dissatisfied
with events. I was travelling to Croad to be a penniless companion in an unfamiliar city. Here, it seems, I am esteemed on my own merits, under the protection of the King. This may not be the life
I would have chosen, but I do not expect either my father or Lord Sprang to ransom me. I find myself cast on my wits, and I do not fear the matter as I thought.’
She smiled for the first time in Beauceron’s experience; an expression that transformed her face. Never anything less than comely, now she was beautiful. How had he failed to notice
before?
The music drew to its stately conclusion and Beauceron took her hand to lead her to the upholstered chairs at the side of the room. ‘I am not a man to divulge my thoughts lightly,’
he said with a smile. ‘When I have done so in the past, I am invariably described as a monomaniac’
‘I do not claim to understand your thoughts, Beauceron; and indeed I have no particular desire to. You have brought me into captivity, and if that captivity is less oppressive than I had
feared, that is no reason to thank you. You have never treated me with anything other than calculation and indifference.’
Beauceron handed her a goblet and inclined his head. ‘I will not magnify my offence by specious denials. I have subordinated a great deal to achieve my goals, and that has included your
own convenience. But I may say that dancing here with you now, feeling the warmth of your person in my arms,
Upstairs he heard a scraping. Rats were already at work in the house. Eilla would surely not have thought to wait for him upstairs; by unspoken convention they had never gone so far from the
exit. He felt a prickling at his neck. He would not be able to rest until he had investigated. He would quickly check around and then return to the castle. He would work out how to find Eilla
tomorrow.
Taking the steps two at a time, stumbling in the dark, Arren made his way up the stairs.
5
Mettingloom
1
At King Fanrolio’s command, the musicians around the ballroom set up a leisurely air. These dances were designed to facilitate conversation rather than exercise.
Dancing was essentially a foppish activity, not suited to the military temperament, and Beauceron saw General Virnesto scowling as he looked for a chair; but Beauceron had always enjoyed it. He
could glide with a slow and easy rhythm and carried himself to advantage. If a suitable partner presented herself he would be happy to step out.
He noticed that Davanzato had swiftly secured Lady Isola’s company. The room was not awash with women who combined youth, beauty and crisp deportment, and Beauceron disdained to dance with
inferior materials. He resolved to wait the dance out until a partner like Lady Letteria or Lady Romina became available. He looked around to notice Prince Brissio’s eyes lingering on Lady
Cosetta hungrily. Her rich new gown of russet and burgundy set off her blonde hair. Presumably Davanzato, as her ransom agent, had provided it.
Cosetta was no longer any of his concern, but she could not profit from closer association with the loutish Prince Brissio. ‘Lady Cosetta,’ he called. ‘Would you do me the
honour?’
Cosetta turned away from Brissio and inclined her head. ‘Why not?’ she said with an approach to a smile. Brissio shot Beauceron a glance which he ignored: time to worry about his
cloddish antagonism later.
‘I trust you are settling in well to your new surroundings, Lady Cosetta,’ he said as they began their stately dance.
‘I cannot believe you are befriending me after all that you have done,’ said Cosetta without heat. Beauceron thought her eyes most becoming.
‘The past is the past, Lady Cosetta. For good or ill, we cannot change it. I am glad to see you embracing your new circumstances.’
She leaned forward and Beauceron caught a whiff of subtle fragrance. He deftly steered them out of the path of a less agile couple. ‘In truth,’ she said, ‘I am not dissatisfied
with events. I was travelling to Croad to be a penniless companion in an unfamiliar city. Here, it seems, I am esteemed on my own merits, under the protection of the King. This may not be the life
I would have chosen, but I do not expect either my father or Lord Sprang to ransom me. I find myself cast on my wits, and I do not fear the matter as I thought.’
She smiled for the first time in Beauceron’s experience; an expression that transformed her face. Never anything less than comely, now she was beautiful. How had he failed to notice
before?
The music drew to its stately conclusion and Beauceron took her hand to lead her to the upholstered chairs at the side of the room. ‘I am not a man to divulge my thoughts lightly,’
he said with a smile. ‘When I have done so in the past, I am invariably described as a monomaniac’
‘I do not claim to understand your thoughts, Beauceron; and indeed I have no particular desire to. You have brought me into captivity, and if that captivity is less oppressive than I had
feared, that is no reason to thank you. You have never treated me with anything other than calculation and indifference.’
Beauceron handed her a goblet and inclined his head. ‘I will not magnify my offence by specious denials. I have subordinated a great deal to achieve my goals, and that has included your
own convenience. But I may say that dancing here with you now, feeling the warmth of your person in my arms,
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