Sandry picked up a pebble and threw it into the garden. “Well, she’s wasting her time. They’re wasting their time. I don’t want to be married at all.” She stood, shaking out her skirts. “Shan, why don’t we go for a ride?” she asked impulsively. “Down to the village and back? Just a quick gallop—” She stopped herself. He was shaking his head.
“The empress will have my guts for garters,” he said plainly. “To her it would look as if I were trying to cut out the others. That would make her unhappy. It is such a bad idea to make Berenene unhappy.”
“Don’t you want to go for a ride with me?” asked Sandry, puzzled.
“I also want to keep my intestines right where they are,” Shan informed her. “A man at the imperial court serves the empress first. We don’t form ties of affection to anyone but her, no matter how hard it is. Take my word for it, the only reason those eager suitors are so eager? She’s let them know they have her permission. Once one of them snags you, they’ll be back at court, paying attention to her.” Seeing that Sandry was wide-eyed with fury, Shan added, “She nearly had one of her maids of honor executed for marrying a nobleman behind her back. The priestesses of Qunoc had to intercede. Now the couple is forbidden to ever show their faces at court again.”
“But that’s silly!” cried Sandry.
“No,” Shan replied. “It’s the disadvantage of having a great, unmarried ruler who has always been exquisite. She can order us to dance to her tune, and we do it. There is always the chance that one day she’ll fall madly in love with one of us and make that man emperor. Even if she falls in love and doesn’t marry, she showers her lover with titles, lands, and income. Hers is the hand filled with gold. If she were ugly as a boot, we would still worship at her altar, and she’s not ugly.”
Sandry shuddered. “I would never live that way. People ought to be free to love and marry as they wish.”
“In an ideal empire, they would,” Shan agreed. “But we don’t live there. Don’t look so upset. She likes you. If she likes you enough, she’ll make you one of her attendants even if you are married. Life at court can be amusing.”
Leaning over, Sandry plucked a sprig of mint and held it under her nose, enjoying its fresh scent. “And if I lived only to be amused, I might even like it, who knows?” she asked with a shrug. “But I’m a mage. I live to work. I love my work. The court will have to amuse itself without me after Wort Moon.” She named the last month of summer.
Shan got to his feet. “I’d better put myself back under her nose before she suspects me of courting you. I haven’t been disciplined by Her Imperial Majesty in four months. I’d like to keep the winning streak going. If you’ll excuse me?”
It was the first time all day that a young man had left her and not the other way around. “Don’t you want to court me?” Sandry heard herself ask, her mouth seeming to have a will of its own. Although her tone was one of mild curiosity, she could feel a beet red blush creep up from her neck to cover her face. Stupid! she scolded herself. Stupid, stupid! Now he’ll think you’re throwing yourself at his head, when you just wanted to know why he wasn’t grazing with the herd!
Shan laughed, which made her blush burn all the hotter. “I like you, Sandry, but I’m not on the permitted list,” he said, grinning. “Besides, friendship is always better than courtship—that’s what my grandmother used to say. I’d like for us to be friends.”
“Oh,” she said, struggling to keep her voice disinterested, even if her blush still lingered on her cheeks. “I’d like that, too.”
“Good,” he said, offering his hand. Sandry took it and discovered that his hand engulfed hers. “Friends it is,” Shan said, giving her hand a single, firm shake before he let it go. He grinned and walked back to the castle.
Sandry could still feel his warm fingers against hers. She looked at her hand, wonderingly. There was a green streak there, and the scent of mint.
She smiled. He had stolen her mint sprig.
When Sandry returned to the empress, she was once more surrounded by nobles. Daja couldn’t help noticing the look Sandry traded with the man who now lounged at the empress’s elbow. That was Shan, who had talked to her that day in the imperial gardens, Daja remembered. I hope Sandry isn’t hoping for something there. He and Berenene seem really, really friendly, and that Quenaill, who I thought was really friendly with the empress, too, he took himself off to a corner when Shan arrived. He’s been there ever since, glaring at Shan.
Daja nudged Rizu, who sat on the bench next to her with Chime in her lap. When Rizu looked at her, Daja ignored that fizzing sensation inside her skin and whispered, “Her Imperial Majesty seems very friendly with Shan.”
Rizu chuckled, a sound that raised goose bumps on Daja’s arms. Am I coming down with some sickness? Daja wondered.
Leaning over to whisper in Daja’s ear, Rizu said, “I should hope they’re friendly, since he shares her bed.”
Daja flinched, almost bumping Rizu’s nose with her own. Rizu giggled and brushed Daja’s nose with her fingers. Daja gulped and turned to whisper in Rizu’s ear, “He’s her lover?”
Rizu slid a little closer. “He is, Quen was and may well be again, and there are two other fellows you may have seen glaring at them, who might just bounce to the front of the line if Berenene gets bored.”