The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,99

he'd ever met. She could create the perfect shakkan garden.

"Do you like it?" Berenene asked, coming up next to him. "This was the garden I had as a girl — the only thing my father would let me tend. I lived in the gatekeeper's lodge and studied with the Sisterhood of Qunoc in the temple on the shore, until my older brother died and I became the heir. I built on this place for years. Now I have gardeners to tend it, but any changes are done to my request."

"I think you're wasted as an empress," Briar said without thinking. He winced, then grinned at her when her only reaction was laughter.

"Spoken like my gardeners," she said. "I'm honoured. And if you see anything that requires attention, please let me know. I'll be in your debt."

Briar, who knew what privilege she had just given him, bowed low. I'll make her a shakkan garden for the palace, he thought. A miniature of this one. It will take work, but she's worth it.

Looking at him from beneath lowered lashes, Berenene asked, "Could you do better, with your potions and spells?"

Briar gaped at her, genuinely shocked. He quickly recovered and asked, "Why would I want to tamper with perfection? All this is yours, with your shaping on it. I'd no more change it than I would change you."

Berenene looked down. Finally she said softly, "A mage who does not think magic betters everything. I am not certain I can bear the shock." She took his hand and ran a finger along the lines in his palm. "I could make you the greatest gardener in the world, you know. I could place the resources of the empire at your disposal." She placed her finger against his lips. "Don't say anything now. I don't want an answer now. But think about it — think what being my chief gardener could mean. I will ask again this summer, I assure you." She stepped away. "I'll see you at midday, Briar."

Dazed, Briar watched her as she made her way back to Sandry, who was taking a drink of water from a well. Today Berenene was dressed for spring in a leaf green undergown and a cream-coloured overgown embroidered with gold flowers. She's the most beautiful thing in this garden, he thought wistfully. But she's not for the likes of me. I know what the girls think — that I'd bed her if I could. But she's too grand. Too glorious. I would rather leave her be than get all disillusioned when I find out she's human.

A sharp elbow caught him in the ribs. He turned. Caidy glared at him, her hazel eyes fiery. "I'm away one night and you forget all about me?" she asked dangerously, roses of temper blooming on her ivory cheeks. "You're setting up to storm the palace when the castle was half-won."

"I got discouraged," he told her, trying to look penitent. "You defend your castle so well. Besides, aren't you used to everyone being in love with her?"

"Everyone better not be thinking of kissing me, then," she warned. "Because I'm fresh out of kisses. I'll go see if Jak has any."

She marched away, chin in the air.

Briar grinned. I do like a girl with some thorns to her. Better still, a real girl, one I can kiss instead of worship. Worship's all well and good, but it doesn't keep a fellow warm when the night turns cold. I'll have to think of something to make Caidy happy again.

Thinking about what he might create to draw a smile from her, he carefully descended the stairs that led through the long-vanished floors down to the water pools.

*

After the tour of the garden, the company broke up into various groups. To Daja's surprise, Berenene went off to confer with secretaries at midmorning. It seemed that the empress's secretaries followed her everywhere and conducted business from horseback, if necessary. Fortunately for them, she thought, they don't have to work in the saddle while there's a lodgekeeper's house on the grounds.

Ambros, Ealaga, and some of the older nobles had gone off to sun themselves on a ruined terrace circled by lilacs and bitter orange bushes in full bloom. Up on the rim of the same terrace, Daja could see Tris and Ishabal in animated conversation.

Probably about something that comes only in words of ten syllables, Daja thought with amusement. It looks like that kind of talk.

Daja herself stood on the edge of a cropped grass circle. All around