Echo in emerald, p.24
Echo in Emerald, page 24
part #2 of Uncommon Echoes Series
I watched the land roll by for a mile or two, but the scenery didn’t change much, so after a while I settled back against my seat. “It seems very serene,” I said politely.
Dezmen grinned. “A peaceful land for a peaceful people,” he said. “It’s not as dramatic as Orenza or Empara—or even eastern Banchura, which is right on the ocean—but there’s a calm, productive, methodical happiness to the province. At least, that’s how it’s always seemed to me.”
“Do you miss it when you’re gone?”
He nodded, then he shrugged. “There’s always an underlying air of excitement in Camarria. Even when there aren’t murder attempts and betrayals! There’s the sense of much important activity occurring, and there are always people coming and going at the palace, and you could walk the streets and find something to entertain you at any hour of the night or day. Pandrea’s not like that. None of our cities are even half as big as Camarria, and the smaller towns are fairly sleepy unless it’s market day. When I’m at my estate, I could go for a couple of weeks and not see anyone except the servants—unless I make an effort to socialize. It’s a very different life.”
“So you have your own property? I don’t know how the high nobles divide up their assets.”
“My parents and my sisters live at the manor house in the middle of the land my father owns. I have a smaller property about five miles away.”
“You’ll inherit the manor house eventually?”
“I will, or one of my sisters. My father hasn’t decided yet. I imagine it will depend a good deal on who takes a husband or a wife that my father approves of—and produces heirs quickly enough to suit him.”
He was laughing as he said it, as if his father’s eccentricities amused him, but I gave him a sharp look. “And if your father doesn’t like your bride? You could be left penniless?”
“No, the house I live in now is mine outright, and each of the girls will be endowed with some of the land my parents own jointly.” He looked me straight in the eye and said, “So you needn’t fear that the minute my father meets you, I’ll be disinherited and left on the streets to scramble for a living.”
I felt a hot blush prickle across my skin. “I wasn’t thinking anything of the sort!” I lied. “I hardly think I’m any kind of factor in your future! I was just trying to understand how it works.”
“Ah.”
“But are you worried that the manor house won’t go to you? Will you be disappointed if it doesn’t?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I enjoy the peace of the countryside—but after a month or two, I get restless. I’ve traveled the length and breadth of Pandrea, and I’ve visited all the other provinces at least once. I wouldn’t mind spending half my time on my estate and half my time in Camarria. I couldn’t do that if I owned my father’s property. It takes someone who’s willing to commit most of his time and energy to it every day.”
His answer made me happier. If my very existence destroyed his credit with his parents, at least he wouldn’t be entirely miserable. “Maybe your sister Darrily would be a better choice, then.”
He laughed. “Darrily is even more restless than I am. If she had her way, she would live in Camarria or Banch Harbor the whole year round. No, if it’s not me, it’s most likely to be one of the younger girls. But there’s time yet. My father’s still keen for the life, and I don’t see that changing soon.”
I glanced out the window again. The sky was beginning to bruise with night; I didn’t think we could travel much longer and still see the road. “When will we reach your property?”
“In about half a day. We can’t make it tonight. In fact— Yes, here it is! The inn where we’ll be spending the night.”
We pulled into the courtyard and Dezmen handed me out of the carriage. I noticed right away that the ostlers were all Pandreans; so was the servant who came out to fetch our luggage. We passed through the taproom on our way to find the proprietor, and everyone seated at the tables or waiting on the tables was Pandrean. So were the landlord and his wife, who greeted Dezmen with the familiarity of longtime acquaintances.
Red and Scar and I were the only light-skinned people I could see in the whole place.
It was an odd feeling, disorienting. I drew closer to my echoes and slipped into Red’s body because that was the incarnation in which I always felt most prepared to deal with the looks and comments of strangers. Keeping my expression impassive, I glanced around. Were the servants and the patrons eying me sideways, trying to get a glimpse of my face without staring outright? Did they wonder what had brought me here, did my presence make them uncomfortable, did they think they’d have to keep an eye on me because I might be a source of trouble? I had never paid too much attention to the Pandreans I saw on the streets of Camarria—because you could see all kinds of people in the royal city, people from every province and even from some foreign nations, and all of them had their own distinctive looks—but still I had always noticed when one of them walked by. I wondered if they usually felt the way I was feeling now—as if all eyes were upon them, as if they didn’t belong. It was a strange and unsettling thought.
The landlady, at least, didn’t seem to find me troublesome. She smiled as she led the way to a staircase and up to the second floor. “Lord Dezmen stops here often, but I don’t recall that he’s ever brought company with him,” she said. “Especially a pretty girl!”
Still in Red’s body, I returned an easy smile of my own. “Don’t be imagining a romance! My friends and I have been doing some work for him in the city, and he thought we could get more done if we came to Pandrea. Where it is much quieter than I anticipated.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it is! There’s always some bustle here at the inn, but even so it hardly compares to Camarria. But then, nothing can.”
“You’ve been to the city?”
“A few times. I have a brother who lives there. He loves it. But after a week or so, I have a headache that won’t stop until I’m back in the countryside.”
“I wonder if it will be the opposite for me. I’ll have a headache from all the silence!”
She laughed and unlocked a door to usher me into a room. It was small enough that the two medium-sized beds took up most of the space, but the curtains were a merry yellow and the rug was a warm riot of color, so it had a cheerful aspect. “Lord Dezmen’s room only has the two beds also,” she said. “But we can bring in cots for the echoes, so this nice young man can share his room. I’m afraid we don’t have any other open rooms tonight.”
“I’m sure Lord Dezmen would be happy to have my friend sleep over,” I said, managing not to laugh. “We’ll sort it out! Thank you so much.”
As soon as we’d all cleaned off the grime of travel, we headed back downstairs, where the landlord had cleared off a table for six. This was a small place with no private parlors, so we sat in the middle of the public space and ordered our meal. I thought the girl who waited on our table was trying hard not to stare at me and the echoes, though she was very polite. She even flirted slightly with Scar, who winked at her in response.
As soon as she’d walked away from our table, I slipped back into Chessie’s head and said to Dezmen, “So is this what it feels like for you?”
“Is this what what feels like?”
“Being the only person who looks like you in the entire building. Or, I don’t know, in the entire province.”
“Ah.” He glanced around, as if he hadn’t noticed that my echoes and I were the only ones with pale skin tones. “It’s a shock the first time it happens,” he admitted. “My father always had dealings with merchants from Alberta and Thelleron, so I’d seen plenty of people who weren’t Pandrean from the time I was a boy. But the first time we traveled to Empara City—I do remember staring. Everyone looked so odd. I was pretty young, so it was a while before I realized they thought I was the odd one.”
“Did it make you feel uneasy?”
“Not fearful, no. Pandreans tend to be respected across the Seven Jewels because they’ve always had such good relations with the crown. But it did make me feel like a—a curiosity, I suppose. I remember a little girl came up to me once and just wanted to touch my face. Her mother jerked her away, telling her not to be rude. But a lot of other people couldn’t stop staring, which was just as rude. And I’ve had women approach me simply because I’m Pandrean, simply because there’s some status in being seen with a Pandrean man. That made me feel uneasy.”
I grinned. “It sounds horrid.”
“Darrily revels in it,” he said. “She wears dresses in shades of yellow and gold—colors that really show off her skin—and she carries herself like she’s the queen of the whole realm. She loves it when people practically trip over themselves to be introduced to her. She’s a flirt, as you might have guessed, but she’s really in her element when she’s outside of Pandrea.”
“She has a lot more self-confidence than I do, then.”
“Darrily has a lot more self-confidence than most people.”
The meal was good, the waitress continued to smile at Scar, and I became a bit less self-conscious as the evening progressed. Maybe if I stayed in Pandrea for a week or a month or a year, I would stop noticing how different I looked from everyone else.
Of course, I had no plans to extend my stay in Pandrea for any length of time.
After the meal we returned to our rooms, which were across the hall from each other. Dezmen laughed as he unlocked his door. “The efficient proprietor has already brought up some cots,” he said, opening the door wider so I could glance in. “So send Scar on over anytime you like and he can have the second bed.”
“I think we’ll be able to work out an arrangement of our own,” I said.
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
I couldn’t think of an answer to that, so we stood there for a moment outside our separate doors, each waiting for the other to come up with something to say.
“I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” was the best I could manage.
He and his echoes filed into his room. “I guess you will.”
Shortly after noon the next day, we arrived at Dezmen’s estate. We’d spent most of the hours in the coach arguing. Well, that word was too strong. Disagreeing.
He thought I should introduce myself as a woman with two echoes. I refused categorically. “Why would I even think of doing that?”
“Let’s see—because that’s what you actually are?”
“But I don’t want anyone to know that.”
“You don’t want anyone in Camarria to know. Fine. But here in Pandrea, why not practice what it feels like to be a noblewoman with echoes? You’re not acquainted with a soul here, so you can resume your old life the minute we leave. Unless you find you like the new one.”
“See, this is the way secrets get unraveled,” I said to him. “You pretend to be one kind of person under one set of circumstances, and another kind of person under other circumstances. But when you least expect it, suddenly those circumstances intersect. Someone who met me in Pandrea will show up at the Packrat in Camarria and ask where my echoes are. You know that’s the way it would happen.”
“Since the only people you’re likely to meet are members of my family, and none of them, I assure you, would frequent the kinds of establishments that Jackal runs—”
I shook my head. “I’m not doing it. I’ve managed to survive this long because I’m careful and I’m consistent. I’m not going to risk all that just to make you happy.”
“This isn’t about making me happy,” he said, sounding nettled. “I just thought it might be an interesting experiment for you.”
“In fact, I’m going to remove all of the risk,” I said. “I’m not even going to meet your family. You say your house is about five miles away from theirs? Good. I’ll stay there while you ride over and visit with them.”
He looked disappointed. “You don’t want to meet them? But they’d like you. And you’d like them, my father and Darrily in particular.”
Why? Why would they like me? Why wouldn’t they be wondering why one of the heirs to the estate was consorting with an urchin girl who could never quite scrub the dirt of the city off her face? “I think I will be more comfortable remaining in the background as some professional acquaintance you’re traveling with—someone you don’t have to explain,” I said. “Would you have introduced Pippa, if she’d come with us? Jackal?”
“Pippa—maybe not,” Dezmen admitted reluctantly. His face lightened. “But Jackal? Absolutely. My father’s always liked a rogue. And I have no doubt that when it suits him, Jackal can be as entertaining as sin. He’d have the whole dinner table listening to him, spellbound.”
“He would,” I agreed. “But I wouldn’t. I don’t want to try.”
He pressed the point a little longer, and came back to it later after we’d sat in silence for about an hour, but I was adamant. I felt strange enough here in Pandrea, with my pale skin and my undefined relationship with a high noble. I didn’t want to become an object of intense curiosity—or hostility—as that noble tried to explain exactly how I had become enmeshed in his life.
As we pulled up in front of his property, I was even more glad I had made this decision. I had envisioned his estate as something along the lines of Jackal’s Crescent Lane house, but in better repair and situated on an extensive, well-kept lawn. But I had lacked imagination. It was at least two times the size of Jackal’s house, a rambling, four-story manor covered with climbing yellow roses and surrounded by an intricate garden. Very little was in bloom this late in the season, though a few of the roses still glowed like opals against the silver-gray of the stone, but it was easy to picture how glorious the place would look at the height of spring.
“It’s beautiful,” I exclaimed, staring out the window. “How do you ever bring yourself to leave?”
“It is beautiful,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m always happy to come home. But—” He shrugged and didn’t finish the sentence. Mentally, I completed it for him. It’s not enough.
Clearly he had never been running for his life, fighting for his food, praying for some kind of sanctuary, any kind of safety, if even for a night. Or this would be enough for him. He’d never want to leave.
I saw the front door open as our coach swept up, and a footman or a butler or a steward stepped outside, waiting for us. He was, of course, Pandrean. I was gripped by a moment of doubt.
“Do your servants know I’m coming?” I demanded. “What did you tell them?”
“They know I’m bringing company to the house. I didn’t specify what kind of company,” he said. “Since you don’t want to be a noble with echoes, I think it will be best to explain you as a professional acquaintance. That way no one will know what to expect of you. You can be as rude and unfriendly as you like.”
That made me grin slightly. “And Scar and Red? I could say she’s my maid, I suppose, though she’s actually dressed better than I am—”
“A maid would be expected to dine in the servants’ hall and conform to patterns of behavior that are even more strict than those laid down for nobles! No, you will all be professional acquaintances. And perhaps Scar and Red will be too unwell to want to leave their rooms.”
He had scarcely finished speaking before the carriage came to a full stop and the door was opened a second later. “My lord,” said the footman/butler/steward. “It is very good to see you again.”
“You, too, Jankins,” Dezmen said, climbing out of the carriage. As soon as his echoes were on the ground, he turned to offer me a hand. “I’ve brought some guests with me, as I mentioned I might.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“This is Chessie Bur—Burkelow. Chessie Burburkelow,” he said, stumbling over the name he had manufactured on the spot. I felt my blood run chilly through my veins as I realized he had been thinking of me as Chessie Burken. Chezelle Burken, even.
My true name. Which no one had ever said aloud in my presence.
I glared at him, both for the near mishap and the ridiculous appellation that I was now stuck with. Then I tried to gather my dignity as I turned to nod at Jankins. How was one supposed to address servants? “Good afternoon,” was all I said.
“Welcome to the house, Miss Burburkelow,” he said.
Scar and Red had managed to climb down from the coach without any assistance. I hurried to introduce them so that I could determine what they were called, but I discovered it was not so easy to produce reasonable names on the spur of the moment. “These are friends of mine,” I said. “S-Scarborough and—and Rita. Uh, Morrissey.”
“One room for Miss Burburkelow and another for her friends, preferably near each other,” Dezmen said. “The Morrisseys are unfortunately suffering from travel sickness, so I think they might be glad to retire to their rooms and stay there.”
I skipped over to Red’s body and leaned against Scar’s arm. “It’s just that my head hurts so much,” I murmured. “I think if I could just lie down and sleep, I’d be better.”
I switched to Scar, patted Red on the back and kissed her forehead. “It’s been a long few days for both of us,” I said in my raspiest voice.
“Of course,” said Jankins. “We have rooms ready. Let me summon some footmen to help with the luggage.”
Dezmen gestured for me to precede him through the door into the wide hallway, so I did, and the rest followed. I looked around as quickly as I could, trying not to appear like a country yokel who’d never even seen the palace. From what I could tell, the interior matched the exterior, being full of warmth and whimsy and touches of homey color. There were cobalt blue tiles on the floor in the hallway, intricate paintings on the walls, baskets of flowers just inside the door, and a burnished wooden stairwell leading up the four stories. It seemed like the sort of place you would expect to hear laughter drifting over from rooms just out of view.
