RenaldaLiesInWaitGiulian returned to his suite by traversing the main house, after climbing the stairs to the first floor. The door at the end of the long hallway opened out just opposite his bedroom. Peterson would be waiting for him to ring, but Giulian thought perhaps he'd sit and read for a while first, to settle his mind before preparing for bed. He opened the bedroom door. The room was lit by a single candle set on the mantlepiece, enough to maneuver by and to light more candles from if necessary, but much of the room remained in shadow. And there was a small figure stretched out on the bed, her dark curls tumbled over the pillow, a half-open book of wildly romantic poetry by her side. Clearly she had fallen asleep waiting for him. It was Renalda. Magnus, the large grey tabby cat who had adopted Giulian, uncurled himself from where he was lying on the coverlet next to Renalda, and meowed loudly as if to say, "Where have you been?" "Opportunist," Giulian retorted, good-humoredly. The noise disturbed his sister, and she opened her eyes, pulling herself up to sit on the bed. "Jules? You have been such a long time!" "Father and I were talking," he said. He moved over toward the fireplace, took the candle on the mantlepiece and transferred the flame to the candelabra standing next to it. "You'll ruin your eyes if you try to read in the dark, Nalda." Renalda pouted at him, hugging her knees towards her chest. "So," she said, coming to the matter directly, "did you talk about Romeo and me?" "A little," he allowed. She waited expectantly, her eyes wide, her lips a little parted. Finally, she prompted, "And?" He shrugged. "And he agreed with me that a formal courtship would be an acceptable way for the two of you to get to know each other better." Renalda bounced on the bed in excitement, in a way that would do no good to the springs. "Really?" she demanded. Her brother gave her a warning look. "That means no more clandestine meetings out by the lake, Nalda. Or stolen kisses, or any of the rest of it." Renalda pouted. "None?" she asked wistfully. "Oh Jules, that would be mean!" Giulian raised his eyebrows at her. "Would you prefer being forbidden to see him at all, like before?" "No," said Renalda, a little uncertainly. "But, Jules ... you hear such stories about Romeo Acciaio! Do you really think he would be interested in me if ... if we couldn't kiss or anything? I mean ... he could have any girl in Aquila!" "That's what we want to find out, isn't it?" Giulian responded. "Whether what's between you is more than just ... infatuation." Renalda sighed. "I know it is for me," she said wistfully. "But ... oh, Jules! He's so handsome and so ... so chivalrous. What if some horrible girl traps him into an arrangement that he can't escape?" "If he lets himself be trapped in that fashion, then he's not clever enough to be allied with the House of Anderon," Giulian said dryly. Renalda considered. "Well ... yes," she said at last. "I don't think I could be married to a stupid man. I mean -- imagine bringing him to tea and watching Mother and Father forcing themselves not to wince! But Romeo is clever. I mean -- he's an Acciaio and he went to the University and he knows heaps about law and things... "It's just that I don't think..." She shot a sidelong glance at Giulian. "I don't think he thinks with his head all the time. Not from the stories I've heard." Giulian bit back the quip that wanted to come out of his mouth in response to that, but which wasn't fit for his sister's ears. "No," he agreed. "But if his rashness does lead him into trouble, neither Father nor I wants it to be with you." "Mhmm," said Renalda non-committally. She seemed to be contemplating the possibility of trouble and Romeo in combination ... and was finding it at worst an intriguing prospect. "What else did you discuss?" she asked suddenly. "Miss Starr, of course. Do you think Father knew about her disappearance?" "It's always hard to tell what Father knows," said Giulian. "I didn't bother asking. What I did ask was for him to help us find her." "What did he say?" Renalda asked. Then she gave a mischievous grin. "He probably found a way of using it to groom you for the succession, didn't he?" "Mmm, you might say that," Giulian acknowledged. "Giving me a chance to help with the search efforts, in any case." Renalda regarded him with a certain irritation. "I declare you are getting as close lipped and as cryptic as Father!" she said. "I suppose that means he has allowed you a glimpse of some of his secrets and you've decided you can't share because I'm a girl, or too young or something." "Father is close-lipped for any number of very good reasons," Giulian replied, "and for those same reasons I had best learn to imitate that before I'm allowed a glimpse of any of his secrets, as you put it. If you were doing a job of work for Father, I wouldn't expect to be filled in on the details either." Renalda sighed. "I can't see Father ever giving me responsibility like that," she said. "I'm not the heir for one thing. And I'll marry out of the House for another. And -- if that wasn't enough -- I'm not clever like you and Rosie and probably Gallfrey too ... I have Mama's eyes, but not the brain to go with it." "You have her charm, though, Nalda," Giulian told her, sitting down in the armchair by the fireplace, "or you're starting to, anyway. You proved that tonight. It's a matter of learning to play to your strengths, I think." "Mmmm," said Renalda, stretching on the bed like a cat and inadvertently revealing one of Mama's other qualities, her warm sensuality -- as yet largely unawakened in her daughter. "Well, being the hostess at the dinner was rather fun. I liked talking to all those old diplomats and making them smile." Which, indeed, she had done, by a mixture of charm and the occasional flirtatiousness. "I suppose I should go to bed," she admitted with a yawn. "But you will tell me what happens about Jo, won't you, Jules?" "I promise I'll do that," he replied, "if you don't hear it from Romeo first." Renalda's face lit up. "Yes," she agreed. "I might." Giulian accorded her a wistful smile. "Remember us all in your prayers tonight, Nalda." |
