The Laurentine Spy by Emily Gee

Author:Emily Gee [Gee, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2013-03-18T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

SALIEL WOKE WITH a jerk when the maid opened the shutters in the parlor. She scrambled to her feet and had the pillow and blanket back on the bed before the woman opened the door to the bedchamber.

The maid had a sprig of privet pinned to her bodice. The flowers were tiny and white. Saliel’s nose itched at the sight of it. She sneezed when her hair was being braided, and again when the maid pinned a sprig of privet to her bodice above the marriage keys.

She wasn’t the only person affected by the flowers: ladies sneezed over their embroidery, and the afternoon speeches in the Great Hall were punctuated by the sound of noblemen and women sneezing discreetly into their handkerchiefs. Saliel listened with her lips slightly parted to the description of the First Battle and the founding of the Empire. Rapt. Patriotic.

The court dined together, lords and ladies, in the Banquet Hall. Saliel sat beside her husband. Lord Ivo said nothing beyond commonplace courtesies. He yawned several times and seemed on the verge of sleep.

She behaved as the other wives did—making polite conversation, cutting her food into small, neat pieces, eating it. Memory of the wedding night was tightly locked away. I do not remember. She chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed, but her stomach didn’t want the food.

“Delicious,” she said, laying down her fork.

They attended the bonfire afterwards. Saliel huddled into her cape and listened as the names of the heroes were read aloud. Flames leapt and roared, devouring the wood, shooting sparks into the air.

Lord Ivo stood alongside her. She didn’t look at him, but she sensed his boredom. He shifted his weight and yawned.

Branches snapped and cracked in the bonfire. The sounds made her shiver. I would burn like that. My skin would shrivel and turn black. My hair would flare alight. She glanced sideways, searching for the Spycatcher. Did he imagine what it would be like to burn on a witch’s pyre?

The throng of nobles was too thick. She couldn’t see him.

Saliel looked back at the bonfire. She clasped her hands together and composed her face into an expression of enthralment.

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