dismay.
“His majesty issued a proclamation at noon,” he informed me.
“Ah.”
There must have been a dozen lithe adepts at practice, swinging from the trapezes, flinging themselves into space and catching one another; springing from the boards to deliver intricate flips and somersaults, forming human pyramids, walking the high rope, toeing the line, and putting one careful foot in front of the next.
Antoine ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “So, messire! What do you think?”
“They’re very skilled,” Bao said, watching them with a practiced eye.
“I am glad you think so.” Antoine offered a polite bow. “Do you suppose you have aught to teach us? Exotic secrets from faraway Ch’in?”
“I might.” He glanced around the stage, taking stock of the equipment and props. “I don’t see any balancing poles.”
“Gervaise is using one now,” Antoine said with a bewildered look, nodding at an adept crossing the high rope, holding a supple staff before him to aid in keeping his balance.
Bao shook his head. “Not that kind. The kind you balance on.” He held his hands apart, then widened them. “So high to so high, with a small platform on one end.”
The adept looked no less confused. “How does one use them?”
“I will try to show you.” Bao unlashed his staff from across his back. “This is not right for it,” he said. “Too high, no platform. And I have not done it for a long time. But I will try to show you what I mean.” Planting the butt end of his staff at an angle, he grasped the top and vaulted into the air. How he did it, I couldn’t say, but he managed to stop the vault at its apex.
The staff stood upright, wavering and bending. With careful precision, Bao kept his right hand atop it, extending his other limbs in a graceful pose in mid-air.
A soft murmur of interest ran through the theater.
After the space of a few heartbeats, he overbalanced and dropped back to the floor. “Like so. If you had a proper pole, you could do this.” Setting down his staff, he went into a handstand, then assumed the same pose as before. From there, Bao levered himself to a horizontal position, still balancing on one hand.
The adepts applauded.
“It is to show strength and grace.” He got to his feet, dusting chaff from his hands. “A slower kind of art, I think.”
“I like it,” Antoine said. “What other kinds of tumbling artistry do you not see practiced here, messire?”
Bao smiled at him. “I am not sure I should give away all my secrets for free.”
The second of Eglantine House returned his smile. “Mayhap we might come to an… arrangement.”
“Oh, indeed.” Bao tilted his head. “I think the young princess Desirée would very much enjoy seeing tumblers. Mayhap Eglantine House’s troupe could arrange a special performance in honor of the occasion the King announced today?”
Antoine raised his brows. “Thus implying our support?”
Bao shrugged. “I am a stranger here. Is it customary for a troupe to question an invitation to perform for royalty?”
“No.” The other laughed. “No, it is not. Can you guarantee this royal invitation? I’m not aware that his majesty has a fondness for the art.”
“I can,” I said promptly. “I cannot promise that his majesty himself will attend it, but I am sure he will issue the invitation if I ask him.”
“It would have to be a performance appropriate for the occasion,” Antoine nó Eglantine mused. “No japes, no foolery. It would be an interesting challenge.” He glanced around at his tumblers, who had abandoned their practice and gathered close to overhear the conversation. “What do you say?” he asked them. “Should Eglantine House stage a performance to celebrate Lady Moirin’s appointment as Princess Desirée’s oath-sworn protector?”
There were nods all around.
“Who better, Antoine?” a blond fellow demanded. “This is Jehanne de la Courcel’s daughter we’re speaking of! The Night Court should be represented at the ceremony.”
“You’re right,” he said thoughtfully. “We should be there.”
“Do we have a bargain?” Bao inquired.
Antoine grinned and thrust out one slender, callused hand. “I will have to confirm it with my Dowayne,” he said. “But if you can teach us further novelties, and Lady Moirin can deliver a royal invitation, I say we have a bargain, messire.”
Bao clasped his hand. “Then we do.”
TWELVE
Tumblers.” Daniel de la Courcel looked blank and uncomprehending.
“Aye, my lord.” I cleared my throat. “It will be a delightful spectacle. I am confident it will please your daughter.”
“It’s… undignified.”
“She’s not yet four years old,” I murmured.
He drummed his fingers