Текст книги "Hastur Lord"

Автор книги: Marion Zimmer Bradley

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

11

Several days later, the party set off from Nevarsin, traveling at an easy pace. As a peace offering to Danilo, Regis suggested that they break their return journey at Syrtis, Danilo’s ancestral home.

“There’s no need to hurry back.” Regis did not need to add that it might be a long time before he had another opportunity to escape the city and the weight of his new duties.

“I would appreciate that,” Danilo replied. “Since my father’s death, I have had few opportunities to oversee the estate. My coridommanages well enough, but it is still my responsibility to examine the accounts and ascertain for myself that all is in order. It—” and here a shade of emotion crept into his voice, “—it will be good to be home again.”

Rinaldo responded with easy-going cheerfulness to the change in plans. Regis supposed that his brother had traveled so little in the world that any new place must be a pleasure. Despite his disappointment at being given worn clothing and an ugly mount, Rinaldo was a pleasant traveling companion. Regis never heard him utter a syllable of complaint.

Syrtis lay half a mile off the road to Edelweiss, where Javanne and her family had once lived. The manor was situated at the end of a valley, leading downward to the lake country around Mariposa. Grass grew lush along the road. Mice and rabbithorns scurried away at their approach. Cattle grazed in the fields, lazily swishing away flies. One of the Guardsmen, a fine baritone, began an old ballad from the Kilghard Hills.

As they traveled through a little village, Danilo was instantly recognized and welcomed. Drawing near the main house, the party passed orchards of apple, pear, and ambernuts. The trees looked well-pruned and healthy, laden with fruit.

“It will be a good harvest,” Regis commented.

Danilo, who had been riding silently at his side, turned to Regis with an expression of bittersweet contentment. “Yes.” But I will not be here to see it.

“Perhaps . . .” Regis hesitated, his boyhood diffidence rising once more, “perhaps you could return this fall.”

Dark eyes hardened. And leave you to the wolves?

Dani, I will not be alone. I have Rinaldo now.

Danilo looked away, his laranbarriers tight. Regis kept silent with an effort.

Seeing the house, it was impossible for Regis not to remember his first visit to Syrtis, so many years and so many sorrows ago . . . At the time, he had not realized how poor Danilo’s family was. One wing of the house had fallen into such disrepair that it was not safe for human habitation. Now the house sat like a jewel amid its gardens. The old moat had been drained, ditched, and turned into plots of vegetables and pot-herbs. Rosalys and star-lilies glowed like bits of sun-touched colored glass. Bees hung in the air. Regis took a deep breath, drinking in the fragrances of flowers and rich earth. A layer of tension slipped from his shoulders.

A stone barn, with its snug roof and new siding, led to a paddock in which several horses stood dozing in the sun. Beyond it lay a mews, and Regis remembered the splendid hawks bred and trained by Danilo’s father. Old DomFelix had been hawkmaster to Danvan Hastur.

The thought came to Regis, Dani’s brother and my own father died together. ‘The two Rafaels,’ they were called.

Past and present overlapped in his vision. There, down the path that led to an apple orchard, now so old the trees in all likelihood no longer bore fruit, he and Danilo had exchanged vows as liege and paxman, had bound themselves with honor.

Our lives were woven together even before our hearts knew one another.

Was that about to change?

The coridom,a wiry middle-aged man, welcomed them. He seemed neither surprised nor distressed not to have had advance warning of the visit, nor was his manner obsequious. He held himself like a man who took pride in his work. From the ease of his manner and his clear respect for Danilo, they understood one another. There would be no last-minute repairs or beautification; what they saw was how the estate was run every day.

Danilo took his father’s suite, Regis and Rinaldo were given the two best guest rooms, and the Guardsmen were housed in a snug outbuilding. The rooms were in the oldest part of the house, walled in dark gray stone but refurbished with wooden paneling and carpets. Regis suspected the tapestry in his room had been a gift from Dyan Ardais. The furniture was most likely original, so darkened with age and polish that the wood appeared black. With the shutters thrown wide in the warm twilight, the air quickly became fresh.

At Danilo’s insistence, the coridomjoined them for dinner. The meal was simple but nourishing: a stew of shell beans and vegetables from the garden, made savory with herbs and dusted with finely grated cheese, several freshly-baked round country loaves called barrabrack,and bowls of deep purple brambleberries and clotted cream. Regis ate slowly, savoring every bite.

Through the meal, Danilo chatted with his steward. Regis found himself drawn into the litany of stories, the daily events and routines of country living. No wonder Danilo spoke of home with longing. Such a place was an oasis, a refuge, a restorer.

With the swift fall of night, the temperature dropped enough to make a small fire delightful. The coridomexcused himself, saying he had more business to attend to, and left the three guests to enjoy glasses of firibefore the dancing flames.

Rinaldo had been quiet through the meal, often glancing between Danilo and the coridom.He swirled the pale amber liqueur in his glass and looked thoughtfully at Regis.

“Now that we have comfort as well as leisure and need not attend to the menial labors of the trail,” Rinaldo said to Regis, “perhaps you will tell me more about yourself.”

“What can I say? You told me you were well informed about my life.”

“I am, indeed, but only about such things as any man may know. I would become acquainted with you as a man—a brother—and not merely a figure of political importance and common gossip.”

A brother in more than name . . .Regis thought with an astonishing sense of joy. At the same time, the part of his mind that had become accustomed to rumor and insinuation wondered exactly what sort of gossip Rinaldo had heard, cloistered away in a monastery all these years.

Common gossip . . .Danilo had flinched visibly at the last comment. From his expression, Regis knew that Danilo was certain it had been aimed at him, at them both.

“Is there any particular gossip you wish to ask me about?” Regis asked carefully.

Rinaldo looked uncomfortable. “I hardly know what to believe. Envy may have caused others to spread malicious lies about you.”

“Power attracts some and stirs resentment in others. We live in a world of many sorts of people. But in my experience, true friends accept that we need not think—or feel—or conduct our private affairs—alike. We each do our best with what we have been given by birth and inclination. Do you not agree?” Regis was acutely aware of Danilo, sitting so still, measuring Rinaldo’s reactions.

“A man can hardly be held responsible for the shape of his features or whether he is naturally talented in music or gardening,” Rinaldo said.

“Or giving sermons, for that matter. But this is why we have the guidance of those older and wiser, that we may endeavor to improve ourselves by discipline, study, and prayer.”

“By your leave, my lords,” Danilo said, setting down his glass and rising. “I must make an early start tomorrow if I am to inspect the boundaries.”

“By all means.” Regis smiled in encouragement, but Danilo would not meet his eyes. “It has been a long day, and tomorrow will be tiring for you while we laze about. You must get what rest you can. I will sit with my brother a while longer.”

Wishing them both a good night and assuring them that they had only to ask for whatever they might desire, Danilo withdrew. Rinaldo acknowledged his departure with a tight-lipped smile. When the door closed and the sitting room once more fell silent, he turned to Regis.

“Your paxman does not like me, I fear. But then, it is only reasonable that he should not.”

“Why might that be?”

“What man in his position would care for anyone with the power to displace him in your affections? I cannot help but think that it displeased him greatly to be sent on errands for my sake like a common servant.”

Regis gave a little, dismissive laugh. “Danilo is not like that at all.”

“You are amazingly unworldly for a man raised and educated in the midst of a political hotbed, my brother. I see you are the kind of person who wishes to think the best of everyone.” Rinaldo grew grave as he continued, “Beware that you do not come to regret your trusting disposition.”

Regis sat back, for a moment speechless. He was as dismayed by his brother’s comment as by his misgivings about Danilo.

“I am no courtier, to couch unpleasant truths in flowery language,” Rinaldo said. “I speak simply, as I think. You have been too sheltered from the realities of life. That is, if you truly believe what you say, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. You are too open, too innocent.”

Regis wanted to laugh. He had been called many things since coming into his majority and accepting the responsibilities of Heir to his Domain. Openand innocentwere not among them.

“I have had much time in which to study the ways of men,” Rinaldo went on, his tone shifting now to conciliation. “I tell you plainly that all men are indeed like that.Your Danilo is no exception. Did you see the clothing he got for me?” His voice took on a sullen edge. “It was poor stuff, hardly suitable for a servant. Bah! His actions have betrayed him.”

“There was no intent to slight you,” Regis hurried to explain. Perhaps Rinaldo felt like an interloper, unsure of his welcome, needing tangible proof. Regis did not want to accuse Rinaldo of ingratitude, but at the same time, he could not ignore the insult to Danilo. “After all, Nevarsin is a small town. This was the best available at such short notice. When we arrive in Thendara, we will have fine clothing made to your own measure.”

Rinaldo looked as if he would protest further, then smiled. “Of course, you must be right.”

For an uncomfortably long moment, the two brothers sat in silence. Finally, Regis said, “So you want to know more about me. Ask what you wish and I will do my best to satisfy you.”

“No, no, I do not mean to interrogate you! I have no right to question what I do not yet understand. But I have wondered . . . there are so few of us Comyn left . . .”

“Yes, we are far too few to form a Council or to divide our resources between ruling our own Domains and Darkover. Even before the World Wreckers sent their assassins, the great houses of the Seven Domains had dwindled. Grandfather needed me as Heir to Hastur. I set aside my own dreams of a private life. I thought . . .” Regis stumbled, surprised by the sudden burst of emotion, “I thought I was the only male Hastur heir.”

Now I have a brother to share that burden.But it would be premature to say so, before he knew Rinaldo’s temperament and desires. What could a man who had spent more than three decades behind monastery walls know about the greater world, about power and diplomacy, the skills required of a Hastur of Hastur? More to the point, would Rinaldo want that kind of life?

I will not inflict the same expectations that Grandfather—the Council—Darkover—p laced upon me. I will not make him forswear his dreams even before he has had time to discover what they are!

“Dreams?” As if catching the thought, Rinaldo lifted one eyebrow expressively.

Regis paused for a moment, wondering if Rinaldo might have a trace of laranafter all. Or perhaps it was only a facility of observation and following the natural course of the conversation.

He considered the question. It had been so many years since he had lifted his eyes to the stars, hungry to journey among them. He remembered that argument with his grandfather, the old man raging.

“Choice? If you wanted a choice, Regis, you should have arranged to be born somewhere else! I neverchose to be chief councillor and Regent to the Elhalyns. None of us hasever been free to choose!”

Although it was like peeling a long-hardened scab from an unhealed wound, Regis met his brother’s gaze. “Yes, dreams. When I was young, I wanted more than anything to travel the stars, to see other planets and other peoples. But, as Grandfather told me in no uncertain terms and upon many occasions, I should have chosen other parents.” He sketched a sigh to lighten the mood. “There you have it. Regis Hastur, the great Comyn lord, is at heart a frustrated spaceman.”

“I would not belittle any man’s dreams, let alone those of my brother,” Rinaldo said. “One of the benefits of having lived as I have, cloistered in unvarying routine, is faith in the unpredictability of life. A year ago, I had nothing to look forward to beyond teaching recalcitrant novices and praying on my knees through one winter after another until death took me. Now—” with a gesture, he encompassed the comfortable room, the fire, the glass of firiheld lightly between his long fingers, “now an entirely new life unfolds before me. I see not just its sensual pleasures, but new opportunities to be of service. To you, to our family . . . to the Comyn as well. In a world where such miracles can come to pass, who can say?”

Regis did not comment again that the Comyn no longer existed as a power on Darkover. He was too moved by Rinaldo’s offer. It was indeed a miracle to have found a brother, to be able to share the burden of his rank . . . an older brother who had every right to the power and prestige of Hastur . . .

“Perhaps, in good time, you will discover your proper place in this world,” Regis said, acutely aware of how clumsy he sounded. “The important thing is to heed what is in your heart—your dreams—and not be pressured or tricked or flattered into what is burdensome to you.”

“Regis, I have spent my life being told notto consider my own desires. What has given me greatest satisfaction, and I presume will continue to do so, is to make myself useful to others. At St. Valentine’s that meant performing any task set before me, no matter how menial. Now you have given me the chance to do something of importance in the larger world.”

Rinaldo leaned forward. “I know I am unsophisticated and inexperienced, but I am not ignorant. Do you think the monastery is a place devoid of ambition, free from the failures of human nature? You studied there long enough to know better. It is the world distilled, with all its vanities and cruelty. I know it very well, its strengths and truths as well as its follies.”

Slowly, Regis nodded. “I beg your forgiveness if I sounded patronizing. I meant only to protect you against the harsh demands that have beset me in my own life.”

“I wanted to know you better, and so I do. You have a kind and generous heart. Perhaps too generous. I will not abuse your love. Instead, together we will accomplish—” Rinaldo broke off in a little self-deprecating laugh. “Just listen to me! I do not even know what needs doing! And you have not asked me anything about myself.”

“There is something . . . I could not ask you when the matter first arose because we were still at Nevarsin and you had not yet been released from your vows.” Regis paused, watching his brother’s reaction and noting nothing beyond bland interest. “You freely told me you are emmasca,so I assume the subject is not too difficult to discuss.”

“You mean painful,don’t you? It is not, only a bit awkward. I have never—we did not speak of such matters, you understand. I’d rehearsed that little speech ever since I heard you were coming. I knew it would come up and thought it best to get it over with at the earliest opportunity. I suppose I must be prepared to face more questions at Thendara.”

“Let them keep their questions to themselves! Other than an explanation of why Grandfather hid you away, and that only for my own understanding, it is none of anyone’s business. I won’t have you harassed because of it!” Regis saw Rinaldo’s eyes widen at the vehemence behind his words. He gentled his tone. “I know how it feels to be judged for what I cannot change.”

He was thinking now not only of his sexual preference but also of the late awakening of his laran.For too many years he had believed he had none, and if Danilo had not reached his mind, that might still be the case.

“I wondered how the monks treated your being emmascaand therefore different,” Regis finished.

“You mean if I was made to feel unworthy because of how I was born?” Rinaldo shook his head. “Then how little you understand of the deep, encompassing love of He Who Bears the Burdens of the World. He gathers us all into his righteousness. Of course, boys tease one another, but they also do a great many things that they repent when they are wiser. It is not our bodies or our temperaments that are unacceptable, only the uses to which we put them. Therein lies our sin or our salvation.”

Regis sensed an opening. “Just as men have bodies of varying shapes and strength and talents for one thing or another, do you not agree that our hearts can lead us in different directions without one being right and the other wrong? Surely, men of honor can hold different opinions. Honesty and integrity are more important than conformity.”

With a faint, humorless smile, Rinaldo shook his head. “I had no idea you were such a philosopher, my brother.”

“As a Hastur, I must deal with many sorts of men and women,” Regis said. “Not all differences are harmful. Some enrich us all, and others are simply none of anyone’s business. The Terranan,for example—what we see as immodest or bizarre, they consider normal. Yet they have brought us riches and knowledge. What they choose to think or how they behave in the privacy of their own chambers causes us no grief. Sometimes I think their greatest gift is a tolerant, welcoming attitude toward the unknown.”

“Strange, indeed,” Rinaldo murmured and then fell silent.

“We’ve had a long day,” Regis said, “and you have had to deal with many changes. If the journey thus far has been filled with new experiences, Thendara will be far worse. Remember that you do not face them alone. I will be at your side.”

“Indeed.” Rinaldo’s thin lips spread in a smile. “And now, we had best renew our strength for that new adventure.” He yawned. “I’m afraid the habit of early rising is still upon me.”

“I have kept you talking past your usual hour of sleep,” Regis apologized. He himself had no duties to wake him early, as Danilo did, and had not considered the schedule his brother had kept at the monastery.

“It is no matter,” Rinaldo said lightly. “I must expect to become accustomed to different hours, among other things.”

As they came up over the pass leading down from the Venza Hills into the valley of Thendara, Regis signaled for the party to halt. He wanted to see his brother’s expression at the first sight of the city, huge and sprawling and ancient. Beyond the old Darkovan town lay the Terran Trade City and the spaceport.

What did Rinaldo see? Were the towers of steel and glass ugly in their alienness, or did they present a strange, austere beauty? Regis himself was never sure.

“I did not realize it was so big,” Rinaldo murmured. “So many people, such riches! You must think me even more rustic than ever, for saying so.”

“Not at all,” Regis said. “I value that you speak as you think. Such honesty is rare in the city.”

“So I have been warned all my life.” Rinaldo grinned. “Father Master described Thendara as a cesspool of fleshly indulgence and deceit, rife with every form of sinfulness. I wonder what he would have said about Shainsa or Ardcarran, should he have been induced to pollute his tongue with their names. But I have no fear for my soul, with a brother to guide me.” He straightened his shoulders. “In fact, if Father Master’s assessment was at all correct, I will consider this a challenge.”

“A challenge?” Regis was not sure if he had understood or if the breath of chill that touched the nape of his neck were a premonition. Rinaldo’s easy smile set his fears to rest.

“To test what a man of determination and virtue can do in such a place,” Rinaldo answered.

“Let us hope for compassion and an open mind, as well.” Regis nudged his horse forward, and they began the long descent. The City Guards stationed at the gate recognized him long before he drew to a halt.

“Lord Hastur, welcome back to Thendara.” The senior officer bowed respectfully. “ DomDanilo.” His eyes flickered to Rinaldo, taking in the poor quality of his horse, the worn clothing, and the fact that this disreputable-appearing person rode at the side of the most honored man in Thendara.

Regis noticed the officer’s reaction, the confusion that flickered momentarily across his face. He knew, too, that Rinaldo had seen it.

Indignation stirred. I will not make excuses for my brother’s appearance or anything else. Rinaldo is here under my protection.

Soon enough, everyone of any consequence in Thendara—in all the Domains, most likely—would know who Rinaldo was. It was better to let the poor man enjoy a little peace before they descended upon him, the courtiers and power seekers, the sycophants and schemers.

Regis wondered if he had done his brother a favor by taking him away from the peace of Nevarsin.

Still, the ordinary world was not all bad. If Thendara teemed with unscrupulous men, it also held those who valued honor and justice, the bonds of blood and integrity. If Regis had suffered from the demands of his rank, he had also known great kindness here. At least, he could count on Javanne to extend a gracious welcome to Rinaldo.

Javanne did not fail Regis. In his absence, she had completed the transfer of his possessions from the townhouse to his grandfather’s rooms in Comyn Castle. A second suite, the best available, had been scrubbed spotless and refurnished for Rinaldo, and a body-servant engaged as well. Regis was astonished at her energy and efficiency, but he was also concerned at the new lines around her eyes. She was using work as a way of holding her grief at bay. She had always thrived when she felt needed.

After making sure the horses were properly tended and Rinaldo escorted to his new quarters and given everything he needed, and after thanking Javanne for her efforts, Regis was at last free to seek his own rest. He was so tired that even the strangeness of Danvan’s bedchamber could not keep him awake for long. He undressed without the help of a servant, sponged away the worst of the travel dirt, and tumbled into the enormous bed. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he wished it were possible for Danilo to slip between the soft linexsheets beside him. This wasn’t the townhouse, where they might enjoy a certain latitude of behavior, not to mention privacy. This was Comyn Castle, where the servants knew and gossiped about everything, and Regis was not longer Heir but Hastur of Hastur.

The next morning, Regis awoke to the sound of a servant lighting the fire in the bedroom. He jerked upright. The poor man startled, bowed, and retreated.

Regis raked his hair back from his face, pulled on the dressing robe that lay across the foot of the bed, and stumbled about in a semblance of his usual morning ablutions. Shortly his body-servant brought in a breakfast tray and an armload of clothing. Suppressing his irritation, for it was hardly the poor man’s fault that proprieties must be observed for the Hastur of Hastur, Regis allowed himself to be dressed, his hair combed into place, and his meal placed before him in the parlor. He forced himself to sip the steaming jacowithout burning his mouth. When he had finished, he asked the servant to send for Danilo as his paxman to discuss the day’s schedule. Then he went into his grandfather’s study, now his own.

Where to begin? The brief respite was over. The question of Terran Federation membership, while settled for the moment, must be carefully monitored; he should send a message to Lew Alton and find out if there was more news. As the Head of his Domain, he now bore the responsibility for running Carcosa and Castle Hastur. His departure for Nevarsin had postponed a number of ceremonial duties that could no longer be put off—reviewing the cadets, meeting with Gabriel in his capacity as Commander of the City Guards, holding audiences with those Comyn still in the city, and speaking with the Pan-Darkovan League and the trade delegation from the Dry Towns. Regis began pacing to keep his head from spinning at the sheer number of tasks. He should arrange for more help in the management of Comyn Castle, but subtly, so that Javanne would not take it as a criticism.

Linnea rose in his memory, and his heart ached. If things had gone otherwise, if he had not made such a botch of the marriage proposal, she would be here, relieving Javanne as Castle chatelaine. It could not be helped; no amount of self-recrimination would change the past.

All the smiths in Zandru’s Forge cannot put a hatched chick back into its egg.

What was taking Danilo so long?

And Rinaldo . . .Regis could not leave his brother alone and unguided in the treacherous maze of Castle and city. He must carve out time to continue getting to know his brother, helping him to find his place. The first thing was to have Rinaldo recognized as a legitimate son of their father. In the old times, this would have been a matter for the Comyn Council, but that body no longer existed. The Cortes? The Telepath Council? A simple written declaration?

Danilo halted at the library door and bowed. “Vai dom.”

Regis strode over to his grandfather’s desk, now hisas well, and sat down. “Close the door.”

Danilo held out his hands. Regis, in a spasm of inexpressible relief, took them. Danilo’s fingers felt warm, so his own must be half-frozen.

“It will be hard at first,” Danilo said softly, “adjusting to new arrangements, but that cannot change how I feel, what I want . . . You are the lord of my heart as well as of my sword. Nothing can take that away from us.”

Although he had heard these words before and had spoken them in his own turn, Regis could not respond aloud. He did not need to. A pulse of wordless understanding gathered them both. Regis felt his heart grow calmer.

“Meanwhile, I have need of my paxman, my friend and advisor.”

Danilo gestured theatrically. “He stands before you.”

“Then we had best get to work.” Regis outlined his thoughts on the duties ahead of him. Danilo nodded, making suggestions about what must be attended to first and what could be easily put off.

“No one will expect you to pick up where old Lord Hastur left off,” Danilo observed. “People will understand. They’ll give you time to find your feet.”

“Bless Aldones and anyone else who will take credit, I don’t have to deal with the Regency as well,” Regis said fervently.

“The Elhalyns aren’t going to storm Thendara, demanding the throne. Some may expect you to take on the title for ceremonial purposes, but that shouldn’t be onerous.”

Regis shook his head. “I won’t do it, not even as a token. I told Grandfather I would never be king, and I meant it! Regentis entirely too close to kingfor my taste.”

“Can you justifiably refuse a title that means nothing?”

“I can and will,” Regis repeated with a touch of savage heat.

Danilo would not be derailed. “At the same time, you cannot escape the fact that you are now Hastur of Hastur. You shake your head, Regis, but it is true. The Comyn may be less than we once were, but we are still here.”

“Not for long.”

Danilo shrugged, refusing to argue further.

“Be that as it may, the absence of a formal Comyn Council does present a problem.” Regis briefly described his intention to create a place for Rinaldo in the Domains.

At the mention of Rinaldo, Danilo stiffened. The warmth that had sprung up between the two men chilled. Danilo agreed that it would not be appropriate to bring the matter of Rinaldo’s legitimacy before the Telepath Council. Traditionally, the Comyn had governed themselves, especially in matters of inheritance, Domain-right, and marriage. Less than a generation ago, the Heir to a Domain could not have chosen a wife without the consent of the Council. Now, there was no authority to petition.

“There is a precedent,” Danilo pointed out after a little thought. “Historically, when urgent matters arose in between Council sessions, those Comyn still in Thendara would convene an informal decision-making body. They would in due course submit their actions to ratification by the full Council.”

Regis did not have a full tally of who had remained in Thendara after his grandfather’s funeral, enjoying the fair weather and summer festivities. Even one or two would be enough. Rinaldo’s status was as much social as it was legal. Documents could be drawn up and filed with the Cortes to ensure the latter.

“I will see to it,” Danilo said. “You have only to fix a date.”

“As soon as it can be arranged, after I have discussed the matter with my brother.”

The next moment, a tap sounded at the door. At a command from Regis, one of the Castle Guards stepped in. Regis did not know him but thought him to be one of Gabriel’s rising young officers.

“Vai domyn.”The Guardsman bowed in turn to Regis and then to Danilo. “There is a person wishing an audience with Lord Hastur. He is not known to me, but he claims to be Rinaldo Hastur.”

“He is my brother,” Regis said, “and I expect him to be treated with proper courtesy.”

The Guardsman bowed again, more deeply. A moment later, he escorted Rinaldo into the library, this time with almost obsequious attention. Rinaldo wore the same suit of clothing in which he had traveled, although it had been cleaned and pressed.

Before either Regis or Rinaldo could say anything, Danilo begged leave to be about his duties and hurried out of the room.

“Please make yourself comfortable.” Regis gestured to the chairs drawn up by the fireplace. “This was Grandfather’s library.”