Bao smiled serenely at him. “Do you want to find out?”
Balthasar laughed. “I might!”
“You do realize he’s not talking about fighting?” I asked Bao.
“Yes, Moirin. I know.” He gave me an amused sidelong look. “I did not think to find you here gambling. Did I not hear that his majesty the King sent for you?”
“He did.” I fiddled with my bangles.
“Ah.” Bao misread my unease. “We will speak of it later.”
“No. No, no, it’s all right.” I took a deep breath, preparing to deliver the news. Everyone in the City of Elua would learn of it soon enough, and I had to start facing it somewhere. It might as well be here. “King Daniel offered me a very great honor,” I said, striving for the dignity the announcement deserved. “He asked me to stand as the oath-sworn protector of his daughter, Desirée.”
Bao’s dark eyes gleamed. “You said yes, didn’t you?”
“He did what?” Marc de Thibideau’s voice cracked on the word. “Name of Elua! You can’t be serious.”
“Why ever not?” Balthasar inquired lightly.
Marc gave him a startled look. “Because… because… Gods, man!” He gestured at me. “Everything!”
“Ah, yes.” Balthasar tapped one elegant forefinger against his lower lip. “Because one of her ancestors did somewhat terrible, once. Therefore, all of his descendants should be held in suspicion, eh?”
Once again, Marc flushed—more deeply this time. “We’re not speaking of House Shahrizai, Balthasar!”
“No.” The other settled a surprisingly grave gaze on me. “We are speaking of Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn, whose folk have been reviled worse than House Shahrizai for the past hundred years and more. And yet, as I do recall, one of her first public acts in Terre d’Ange involved saving a man’s life. Lord Luchese, was it not?” he asked me.
I nodded. “I believe so. I did not know the fellow.”
“Then there was your leg, if I am not mistaken, Marc,” Balthasar continued in a judicious tone. “And after that… oh! There was the hunting party. You weren’t there for that, were you?”
“What hunting party?” Marc de Thibideau demanded.
Balthasar Shahrizai smiled, enjoying himself. “The one where Thierry was thrown from his horse and nearly bitten by a viper. So he would have been, if Moirin had not lifted her bow, the rustic ill-hewn bow we had all mocked, and pinned the deadly creature to earth with a single well-placed arrow.” He mimed the act, hissing between his teeth. “Just like that!”
“I had not heard that story,” Bao commented.
“Oh…” I shrugged. “Viper bites are not always fatal.”
“Forgive me, my lady,” Marc said to me. “I don’t mean to insult you. It’s just that the role is a significant one, meant to be awarded to a peer of the realm capable of wielding political influence at need.”
“Moirin has the King’s favor,” Balthasar observed. “You don’t consider that political influence?”
Their argument was beginning to draw a crowd, and the process of rumor and hearsay was already under way. I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“No.” Marc de Thibideau lowered his voice. “No, I don’t, and you know why! He’s ceded the right to political power. He’s a figurehead, nothing more.”
Balthasar glanced around. “You don’t want to have this conversation here, Marc.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” He swept his stake from the table, shoving the coins in a purse. “In fact, I wish I weren’t having it at all.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Again, it’s nothing personal, Moirin. It’s just that there’s a great deal you don’t understand about politics.”
Balthasar watched him go. “He really should have disobeyed his father and sailed with Prince Thierry,” he said in a mild tone. “He’s been out of sorts ever since. Lady Moirin, Messire Bao, would you care to walk with me in the garden? I’d have a further word with you if you’re willing.”
Although I’d never been particularly fond of Balthasar Shahrizai, his unexpected support had surprised me. I glanced at Bao, who nodded. “Yes, of course.”
It was chilly enough outdoors that no one else was taking in the Palace gardens. The gnarled branches of trees in the decorative orchard were barren of leaves, the trees dreaming of spring to come. Here and there were banks of late-blooming autumn flowers like chrysanthemums, but most of the flowerbeds were covered with mulch. Even the greensward looked listless. Only the evergreens were bright and lively, the brisk sap crackling in their veins; the tall cypresses standing like sentinels in a line, the pine trees shaped like umbrellas.