“A ball?” I asked.
Lia flicked a glance at me. “People dress up, drink fine wine, and dance to music. A traditional form of wedding celebration.”
I didn’t set my teeth. “I know what a ball is. I don’t dance.”
“You have three hours to learn. Ibolya, would you see that Conrí is assigned appropriate chambers? Then send him a dancing instructor. We’ll also need rooms for Lady Sondra and Lord Ambrose.”
Ambrose came forward, leaning heavily on his staff, looking very tired. “Your Highness? If it’s no trouble and you have no other plans for it, would it be possible for me to have the tower room you put us in?”
She opened her mouth, argument in her eyes, then reconsidered. The one lady—Tertulyn—handed her a damp cloth, and Lia used it to dab at the blood on her palm. The one she’d named Ibolya brought a cloth to me, too, smiling shyly.
“That’s a prison room,” Lia pointed out to Ambrose.
He nodded vigorously. “With an excellent view, lots of privacy, very quiet.” Merle clacked his beak. “Yes, excellent egress for Merle. And it has the great advantage of being easy to keep people out of, as well as locked in.”
Lia regarded him with bemusement. At last, a kindred spirit, someone equally unable to understand the wizard. “Anything for the Calanthe court wizard,” she replied smoothly, a glint in her eyes.
Ambrose laughed. “Well played, Your Highness. Very well, as Conrí is staying, so shall I.”
Lia smiled, very pleased despite the weariness in her gaze. “Orvyki, please install the wizard Ambrose in the tower, assign him servants, and see that he has everything he needs. Castor will be in the vicinity. Once he’s free, he and our wizard can consult on their mutual interests.” The young lady led Ambrose away, considerately moving at a slow pace and casting interested glances at the raven. She asked him something and he launched into a reply I couldn’t hear. He paused to touch his staff to the door, then gallantly opened it for the lady.
Sondra had emerged from the bathing room on the other side, plucking irritably at the ill-fitting blue gown. Lia eyed her. “Nahua.” She indicated Sondra. “Retrieve Lady Sondra’s fighting gear and weapons. I assume you’d be happier in those?” she asked.
Sondra, taken aback as she almost never was, replied with a slow nod. “That would be … that’s very thoughtful of you. Your Highness,” she added, sounding as if she didn’t mind saying it for once.
Lia nodded back, some understanding passing between them. “Nahua can assist you in finding other garments that suit your personal style, but are also grand enough for your station and court appearances. You’ll find many here of similar mind-sets to yours. Nahua, perhaps find a place for her near Brenda’s rooms. The finest we have. Consider the Lady Sondra My sister by marriage.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Nahua beckoned to Sondra, who gave me a glance and a shrug, going with her. I didn’t know what to make of it, either, that she planned to treat Sondra like my sister.
“Ibolya, do the same for My husband. He’ll want his gear and weapons, so arrange to have those sent to his rooms. We’ll—”
“No need to find rooms for me,” I interrupted, shaking off my bemusement to focus. “I’ll share yours.”
Lia barely glanced at me. “No, you won’t.”
“There’s enough of them.”
“The number of rooms I have is irrelevant. You can have your own, Conrí.”
“Want to argue this now?” I asked it mildly, but with enough growl to remind her that I could be as stubborn as she. We’d be sharing a marriage bed, starting that night. I had no intention of delaying engaging in battle with her on the subject until then. Most battles are won before the opposing forces ever engage, if planned correctly. Therefore I’d nullify any strategic attempts on her part to put distance between us.
Lia dearly wanted to argue the point. Her eyes flashed with frustrated ire, and she pressed her lips over what must have been several hot-tempered replies that she swallowed back. Tertulyn moved in beside her, glaring ice picks at me. “I am accustomed to My privacy,” Lia finally said, choosing her words carefully. “Something I get precious little of outside these rooms.”
“I see walls. Doors that can be closed to give privacy.” I gave her a long look that I hoped she’d read as reassuring. “Our fates are tied. We can share this space.”
She sighed, resigned. “Fine. Ibolya, would you arrange for My bath?” The young woman hurried away, looking relieved to escape, and Lia fixed me with a narrow stare. “But I expect you to observe My privacy.”
“Euthalia.” Tertulyn surprised me by using Lia’s given name without an honorific and taking her hands. Only the three of us remained, everyone else having been dispatched to carry out the queen’s commands. Tertulyn cast a look full of hatred at me and turned her shoulder, as if that could ward me away. “What in Ejarat are You thinking?” she demanded. “You can’t marry the butcher of Keiost. He’s the Slave King! Enemy of His Imperial Majesty.”
“I can and I have,” Lia responded in cool tones, extracting her hands from the lady’s grip. “And you will address him as Conrí, not that vile epithet.”
“But You’re to marry the emperor.” Deprived of her grip on her queen, Tertulyn wrung her own hands together, dropping her voice and turning her back more fully to me. “Think about what You’re risking. When Syr Leuthar hears, he’ll—”
“Leuthar is dead,” Lia replied, cutting her off. “And I am duly married to Conrí. We can discuss this later, but I need your assistance now to prepare for a public appearance and a ball. As soon as Orvyki and Nahua are free, summon them back to help. I have no idea what I’m going to wear.”
I must’ve made a disparaging sound because Lia moved around her lady, planted her hands on her hips, and glared at me. “Tertulyn, go review My wardrobe. Something fantastic enough for the occasion, but that I haven’t worn before. Or that we can make look different enough that no one will recognize it,” she directed without looking. Her lady obeyed, though throwing me one more black look before leaving the room. “If you’re going to insist on being a constant hulking presence in My private rooms,” Lia said, “then we need ground rules.”
“We’ll share a bed, too,” I replied, laying down my own first rule.
She blinked at me, reassessing, then gave me an exasperated look. “I agreed, didn’t I? Is that what this is about?”
“What what’s about?”
“You insisting on living here.”
“This will be a real marriage,” I informed her. “Ambrose said it needed to be.”
She set her jaw. “I know that. I was there, too. How is that relevant?”
Sawehl save me from negotiating with women about the intimacies of marriage. I knew less about bedding women than courting them. Sondra might give me advice if I asked. On second thought, I couldn’t imagine a scenario where I could ask her that without traumatizing us both. Ejarat only knew what bizarre advice Ambrose would offer. Lia and I would have to muddle through the act on our own. Animals did it without instruction. Surely people could, too.