“She . . . constantly surprises me,” Yorbel said. “You would think, given what she does, the choices she’s made, that she would be . . . lacking. But, Gissa, when I read her soul, she has this core of strength. She isn’t a pillar of light, like the purest souls, like I have been taught to aspire to, but . . . I can’t explain it.” He shook his head. “I sound ridiculous, don’t I? At my age.”
Flopping back on the bed, Gissa laughed again.
“You are being a terrible friend,” he told her. “At least give me some advice. I want to tell her, or show her, how unique and special she is.”
“My intellectual friend is a romantic. I truly had no idea.” She sat up. “I am so very relieved that this is the explanation. I will spread the word to your concerned friends.”
“Gissa!”
“You can’t expect me not to gossip about this.”
He glared at her. “A. Terrible. Friend.”
“All right.” She composed herself. “You want a grand gesture, to show her how you feel. Traditionally, I’m told sweets, flowers, or jewels work. Poetry.” She held up a hand. “Wait. Forget I said that. Please do not write her poetry.”
He couldn’t picture how Tamra would react to sweets, flowers, or jewels. Somehow it didn’t feel right. And he sensed it would make him look ridiculous. She’d laugh at me like Gissa is laughing, Yorbel thought. “I’m not looking for a way to confess my feelings. She doesn’t know how I feel, and she doesn’t need to know—she has enough to handle right now. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. I want her to know she’s amazing.”
“If you truly care for this woman,” Gissa said, “what you should do is obvious: do something that would make her happy.”
Of course! Yes! That was perfect advice. And with that, he shot to his feet. Because he knew exactly what would make Tamra the most happy. “I take it back. You aren’t terrible. Thank you, Gissa.” He rushed out of the room.
The sound of her laughter followed him.
Chapter 24
While her sponsored rider and racer continued to win during the day, Lady Evara spent her evenings drifting through the palace, twinkling at everyone. That was her personal term for it: a light laugh, a twinkle in the eye. Every so often, she’d toss out a compliment. “Lovely bracelet, darling.” Or “Your hair looks divine.” Or stop, stare, and then say, “Stunning,” before sweeping on. She’d hear in her wake: That’s the woman who sponsored the emperor-to-be’s racer! She may have picked the winner!
As pleasant as that was to hear, she rarely paused long enough for a full conversation. Until she knew who was interested in her, she was careful not to appear interested in anyone.
It was a delightful game. Be accessible, but not too accessible. Aloof, but not too aloof. Charming without seeming insincere. Superficial without seeming inconsequential. And she was good at it, which was proof that, no matter what her darling parents had thought, she could be good at something. It helped that the emperor-to-be frequently summoned her for updates on “their” rider and racer—their mood, their health, their training regime. He sometimes employed musicians for their conversations and sometimes not, presumably to keep any busybodies from guessing that he was fond of hiding important discussions beneath the cacophony of sound. He’s a clever boy, Lady Evara thought. I do hope he lives to be emperor. She liked the idea that she could do something to help ensure that, even though she hadn’t uncovered anything useful yet.
She was just about to retire for the evening, though the shrimp being served in the statue hall were divine, when she was approached by an impeccably dressed man with a truly stunning mustache. He had tiny jewels clipped to his mustache and had somehow endeavored to make it curl twice before ending in a three-pronged split capped with diamonds.
“Lady Evara.” He bowed. “I am honored.”
“You are a work of art,” she said. “Let me admire you.”
“Sweet lady—” he began.
She laid a finger on his lips and then walked around him in a slow circle, taking in every detail of his outfit, which was at least three layers of silks plus a braided belt that draped from his shoulders, circled his waist, and then vanished within the silks. “All right, you may speak now.”
“It has been brought to my attention that, despite your beauty and your many charms, you do not belong among us.” This shocking