You deserve some happiness. And it won’t hurt to have a prominent courtier like him on your side.” Elly stepped over a root. “I’m still not convinced that Elban doesn’t have some horrible new trick up his sleeve. You don’t go from I’ll have you all killed horribly to oh wait never mind without something happening in between.”
Judah chose not to hear that. She pretended Elly’s words were birdsong that filled the air with pretty, meaningless sound, and required no response.
* * *
Late that night, after everyone else was asleep—Elly had insisted on not changing the sleeping arrangements, privately telling Judah that it was good for Gavin not to get absolutely everything he wanted whenever he wanted it—Judah crept out through the quiet parlor. The House was quiet, too; the few courtiers who remained inside were mostly those who had not yet emerged from the ocean of wine and drops they’d sunk into at the ball. The gas lamps were low. One of the retiring rooms spilled over with warm light and the smell of burned coffee; Judah paused at the door to let a staff girl hurry in with a tray of something savory-smelling, but didn’t look inside. The corridor doubled back and then she was passing guest rooms. Another staff girl tapped timidly on a closed door, looking uncertain; when she saw Judah coming she turned the knob, almost silently, and slipped inside. Before the door closed behind her Judah saw two bodies draped motionless over a couch. Judah didn’t know what the girl’s job might be, but she doubted the passed-out courtiers would notice if she did it or not.
Outside, the moon was high but the gardeners were hard at work by the light of lanterns that ran on Wilmerian gas like Elly’s quickstove, trimming hedges and clipping away dead leaves so that all would be beautiful in the morning when the House woke up. They went predictably quiet as she passed. The dry fountains and broken statues in the walled garden glowed eerily in the moonlight, and the path was easy to pick out. The hounds in the kennels barked ferociously. Judah was a thing they didn’t know and so they wanted to kill her. She could not imagine Darid working among them.
Another lantern hung from the hook outside the stable door, but the light it shed was so feeble that it barely penetrated. All seemed deserted. Judah lifted the bar on the door and went in. The horses murmured softly, but unlike the hounds, they knew her, and so weren’t alarmed. She could feel them more than she could see them, huge and warm and breathing in the darkness.
Motion at the other end of the stalls. The sound of footsteps, coming toward her. Darid.
“You came,” he said and kissed her. It was strange to be kissed by somebody she couldn’t see. It was strange to be kissed at all. Kissing was a thing courtiers did, devouring each other’s mouths as emotionlessly as they did cakes or canapés. But here she was, her mouth on his, his body solid in front of her like a friendly wall. She’d never stood this close to anyone by choice except Elly and Gavin and Theron. She’d certainly never felt anyone else’s body pressed against hers, the way Darid’s was now. His hands moved across her collarbones, which she liked, and then slid backward into her hair. Which she might have liked had it not been for the drunk Wilmerian, all those weeks ago. Her hair had been the first part of her Darid had touched, tentatively, the night before. Lips still pressed against his, she wondered, a bit dispirited, if men would always want to touch her hair. Maybe she’d cut it off before Elban took her on campaign.
But further than that, she refused to think. Tonight she’d tied her hair back with one of Elly’s ribbons; now Darid pulled it loose. He was less tentative than he’d been the night before. She put her hands on his chest, and pushed him gently back. “Hello,” she said.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He was taller than she was. Who wasn’t? His mouth was somewhere far above her forehead, which was made evident when he leaned down to kiss her there, too.
“I said I would.”
“You might have thought better of it.”
“Because you’re a lowly stableman?” She knew he couldn’t see her any better than she could see him, so made sure her voice was light and friendly.