Page 89 of Play of Shadows

‘Beretto,’ the big man said enthusiastically, and went to shake Monsegino’s hand before the duke could snatch it away.‘Beretto Bravi of South Lankavir. Actor. Playwright. Professional lovemaker and, should the gods grant any justice in this poor country of ours, a future Cantor of the Greatcoats!’

‘That’s. . . rather a lot of aspirations, Master Bravi,’ Monsegino said, attempting without success to retrieve his fingers from the huge paw.

What the duke didn’t see– what I saw only because I knew my friend so well– was that beneath Beretto’s genial smile was an implicit threat of what might happen next if Monsegino had come intending retribution for my actions.

What Beretto wasn’t seeing was the way Shariza was moving slowly towards him.

‘Let him go, Beretto,’ I said.

Beretto smiled congenially and released the duke’s hand.

Monsegino wiped his liberated palm on his coat. ‘I’m here because Lady Shariza suggested– somewhat forcefully, I might add– that we needed to get you out of the palace quickly before word spread of your. . . lapse in judgement.’ With a glower that made it clear that all wasnotforgiven, he withdrew a folded note from his pocket. ‘Besides, as I understand it, unless I submit to your questioning, your uncouth Bardatti friend will begin smearing my name with this little. . . ditty she’s composed.’

‘It’s called a congretto, your Grace,’ Rhyleis clarified sweetly. ‘And while I consider being called uncouth by a nobleman of your stature high praise indeed, you should know that I’ve ruined better men than you for daring to refer to one of my compositions as a “ditty”.’

‘Shariza?’ Monsegino asked.

‘Yes, your Grace?’

‘The next time she opens her mouth to threaten me, put something sharp in it, would you?’

You see?Corbier asked, returning with even more force than before.He’s no different than Pierzi. Another would-be tyrantwaiting for his moment to—

‘Enough!’ I shouted, rising to my feet. ‘You wage war like children while our enemy overtakes the field!’

Every head in the room spun in my direction. My voice had sounded as if it belonged to another– not Corbier, precisely, but a steadier, more commanding presence.

Saints! That was like something Ajelaine would say, I realised with a start.If this keeps up, I’m going to lose any sense of who I am– or at least, who I was before this Veristor madness overwhelmed my life.

I turned the momentary confusion to my advantage. ‘We can’t continue this way,’ I told them. ‘The Orchids are roaming the streets, spreading terror and leaving bodies behind. Half the city’s convinced these “Orchid Laws” of theirs are as binding as your own, your Grace.’ I locked eyes with Monsegino. ‘You might dislike Rhyleis’ impudence, but I don’t enjoy being ambushed by the fucking Vixen of Jereste, only to discover you’ve forged an alliance with her. Nor do I appreciate being pressed into service as a pawn in whatever game you’re playing.’

Monsegino’s glare was almost enough to make me sit back down again.

‘Unlike those in your profession, Damelas, I am not privileged to “play” at anything. I suffer such allies as the circumstances of my reign demand, for the results of my mistakes are measured not in jeers from my audience, but in lives ruined.’

‘I—’

Like a dam holding back a flooding river, Monsegino’s composure broke at last. ‘You come at me withsongs?’ He crumpled the piece of paper and threw it to the floor. ‘When a poorly negotiated trade agreement signed by my hand sends a thousand farmers into poverty? When I’m forced to grant permits for the increased importation of pleasure drugs and over-strong liquor, watching death and misery multiplythroughout my duchy– but should I dare prohibit their sale, even to the slightest degree, black marketeers take over? When thugs who set up shop behind legitimate businesses go breaking limbs of any who try to refuse their demands? The price of a single wrong move on my part will lead me to the emptying of my own treasury within weeks as I try– and fail– to compete with the bribes paid to my own personal guards. Within months. . . withinmonthsI’ll be facing a rebellion led by an army I can’t even see! You think Iwantto ally myself with a psychotic killer like Ferica di Traizo? Without the support of her family’s soldiers, I’ll lose the entire duchy to the damned Iron Orchids before the year is out. My life is nogame, Master Veristor– and I donotappreciate any implication to the contrary!’

The Violet Duke strode to the window, the thud of his boots on the uneven floor drawing thumps on the ceiling and angry shouts from those in the apartment below.

I was about to walk over to him, but Shariza’s hand on my arm stayed me.

An anxious silence filled the enormous space left behind by the loss of the comforting belief that people like Monsegino wielded all the power and could therefore be held responsible for the lives of their citizens.

‘Well, there’s something new,’ Beretto muttered, returning from the dumbwaiter with a tray of mismatched mugs containing wine of dubious origin. Mother had outdone herself. ‘A duke just made me feel guilty.’

‘I do not—’ Still staring out the window, Monsegino’s shoulders rose and fell in surrender. ‘Forgive me. I’ve no business burdening any of you with such matters.’ He rested his head against his forearm, which was pressed against the shutters. ‘So let us instead speak of the business in which our respective fates intersect.’

A wave of genuine sympathy for this overwhelmed young nobleman passed through me, but it was outweighed by the duty I owed the cast and crew of the Belleza, who’d already paid a heavy price for my sins.

‘Your Grace,’ I began formally, ‘what is the Court of Flowers?’

‘A ghost story– a tale to terrify new dukes just beginning their reign. A secret cabal of nobles, working in the shadows, pulling the strings of those like me who might otherwise confuse a throne with power and a crown with greatness.’

‘But who rules them?’ Beretto asked, proffering a mug.

‘No one,’ Monsegino replied, waving away the drink. ‘They do not exist.’