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But right now he?s over there in the wilderness and I?m a prisoner in everything but name, and likely to lose my head if my attention strays. Concentrate, woman!
Kate had sighed and nodded, looking around. ?There are always people who won?t live peacefully, like the Heuisinks. Why, why, when we have all this??
Candles burned on the tables whose snowy linen held the buffet; the aide brought them a second set of hand-sized plates, this time with garlicky meatballs on toothpicks and little skewers of hot spicy grilled chicken and tiny, tender vegetables. Some of the guests plowed stolidly through cold meats and breads and salads and dishes of spiced pickled fish or nibbled on candied fruits, while others punished the wet bar and grew red-faced and expansive or brooded in corners. ?It scares me sometimes,? the Bossman?s wife said softly. Then in an undertone, but fiercely:?And people are always flattering Anthony, and, and telling him anything he wants to hear. It?s like water dripping on iron!?
Mathilda turned away diplomatically, watching the crowd as Kate stammered and flushed and then cast her a grateful look for letting the matter drop. Younger men and women flirted; serious-looking ones in middle age stood in small circles, holding drinks and talking politics and business… or possibly just gossiping. A chamber group of musicians tootled away at something soothing in a corner, and the air smelled of fine food, wine, perfume, warm linen and wool, a little of sweat and perfume, and strongly of expensive beeswax candles.
Like the feast before the High Council meets, Mathilda thought.
If you mentally substituted colorful modern tunics and hose and cotte hardis for the drab, antique Iowan costumes, and tabards for the servants? white coats and bow ties. The occasional lidded glances were easy enough to catch, and the way factions avoided each other accidentally-on-purpose. She?d grown up in a real court, after all, where her own frowns or smiles could set feuds going. Granted, it was the court run by her mother-her father had been killed in the Protector?s War when she was ten-but the Lady Regent had known how to do things. She?d been in the Society before the Change, where the knowledge of such things was kept alive. Iowa was large, and rich, and far more populous than any of the realms around the Columbia and Willamette, or even all of them together…
More than two and a half million people! A hundred and twenty thousand just in this one city!
… but in some ways it was a bit old-fashioned. A good many of the older men here were actually wearing suits with jacket and tie, for example, or military uniforms based on those of the old American republic. Though more favored the bib overalls and billed feedstore cap that were a gentleman?s garb in Iowa, the mark of a Farmer or Sheriff, which was what they called knights and barons.
And they?re ru
She flicked her wrist, and the ivory leaves of her long-handled fan opened out to make a tracery of tiny figures that showed children dancing around a maypole. ?By now we have a lot of fine makers, for practical things and for beautiful ones as well. And not just in my mother?s Household. This was a present from a friend, Lady Delia de Stafford.? ?Lovely!? Kate said, taking it for a moment and holding it up against a light.
She hesitated and then went on:?But… isn?t that dress… well, isn?t it all a bit cumbersome??
Mathilda laughed.?It certainly is if you don?t have a lady-in-waiting and a couple of maidservants to help you on and off with it,? she said.?Which I suspect was part of the point-that?s why it?s a noblewoman?s style.?
At home she wore male dress as often as her special status let her get away with it, and hated the constriction of the court fashion?s buttoned sleeves and bodice and the way you couldn?t lift your arms above your shoulders, and the long full skirts and the wrapped headdress, though even that was better than the tall cone-shaped ones. The two tunics and shift of commoner female costume were much more comfortable and less confining, but noblewomen could get away with that in only the most casual settings.
She?d have just chucked the clothes chest, herself-God and His Mother knew that they?d lost most of the gear they?d started out with in Bend at one emergency or another, which had included everything from battle and headlong flight to million-strong stampedes of mad buffalo. Now she was glad she hadn?t insisted; it made her feel a little less frightened and homesick, and it emphasized that she wasn?t officially just a prisoner here.
And the warm browns and golds of the silk and embroidery did complement her seal-brown hair and hazel eyes and warm light olive complexion. She wasn?t beautiful; her features took after her father?s, too bold and a little irregular, but she knew she could be striking.
And I have to uphold the Portland Protective Association?s honor here. These Iowans think everyone else is a monkey from the wilds, or at best a hick. ?You look enchanting, your Highness,? Odard Liu said.
He came up to them, a middle-sized young man, black haired and olive-umber of skin, slim and elegant in parti-colored hose and curl-toed shoes with little silver bells, trailing dagged sleeves and hood with tippets and gold-link belt, his slanted blue eyes amused and his lute over his back, troubadour fashion.
Some of the younger local gentry trailed after him, looking fascinated; the more so when he made an elaborate leg-bow and hand-flourish to both women, the long tail of his round flat nobleman?s hat fluttering and sweeping the floor as he drew it through the complex measure. ?And your Majesty is also enchanting in her own person, if I may be so bold,? he went on to Kate Heasleroad.?Your lord is to be envied for his wealth and power, but not least for the jeweled beauty of his consort.?
Everyone loves flattery, but keep in mind that when people deal with royalty they lay it on with a trowel, Mathilda?s mother had told her once. Your friend Odard at least does it with some style.
He?d also clung to the box with their last Court outfits inside like grim death, even when they were starving in that cave in the Rockies wondering if they?d have to eat the horses while the blizzards howled outside. He?d laid out gold here to have his gear repaired, too-and hers, to be sure. ?But though Iowa is rich and mighty, I say that only in Portland do we know how to praise fair ladies.?
Odard brought his lute around and strummed. His fingers teased out a stately tune, one of his own.
Oh, no! Mathilda thought. Not that one!
The chamber group had fallen silent. His smile was half warm and half a teasing pleasure in her embarrassment as he sang a chorus in a pleasant tenor: ?So let the Hall ring for the Light of the North!
For the Princess Mathilda-the Light of the North!? ?Odard, I still haven?t forgiven you for composing that,? she said, and rapped his knuckles with her fan.
He gri