The carriage jolted over a particularly rough stone, and Valentina was torn from her memories. Cosimo stirred beside her, his hand sliding lazily over her hip.

  "What are you thinking about?" he murmured sleepily.

  "The summer ahead of us," she replied, which wasn't entirely untrue.

  He smiled and pulled her closer. "It will be an interesting summer, my dear. I promise you that."

  "More interesting than he realizes," Vyxara commented dryly.

  Valentina could only agree silently.

  He reached for the wine carafe and poured them both another cup, while Valentina sat up a little and adjusted her skirts.

  She gratefully accepted her goblet from him. He looked at her for a moment, then his demeanor changed subtly, from relaxed lover to attentive politician. "We should talk about parliament. There are some things you should know."

  "Ah, now comes the business part," Vyxara murmured amusedly in her mind. "I guess this is the part where he tells you what this whole thing is actually about."

  "Of course," Valentina replied, sipping the excellent wine. She was grateful for the distraction from her circling thoughts about Innogen.

  "The official agenda is quite simple," Cosimo began, leaning back into the cushions. "His Majesty needs additional tax revenue because the realm's infrastructure urgently needs investment in roads, bridges, and ports." He swirled his wine thoughtfully. "The Western Marches also need to be reinforced, and pirates are threatening our trade routes. The usual drama."

  His voice was casual, as if he were talking about the weather. Valentina nodded attentively but recognized the careful wording.

  "All very reasonable," Vyxara remarked. "And all perfect excuses for military preparations and a general build-up of troops."

  "Of course," he continued, his tone shifting almost imperceptibly, "there are always... additional considerations in such undertakings. King Edmund is a man of vision, a man with ambitions that go beyond the mere administration of the status quo."

  "He chooses his words very carefully," Vyxara observed. "See how he watches you while he speaks."

  "Sometimes opportunities present themselves," Cosimo said quietly, "that require careful preparation. Discreet preparation. And the parliament will provide the necessary resources for those preparations, I am convinced of that."

  Valentina took a sip of her wine and let the implications sink in. "And the magnates? Do they support this... vision of His Majesty?"

  A satisfied smile played around Cosimo's lips. "My clever girl. You're learning to ask the right questions without asking too much."

  He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Most magnates understand that Sommerland's future will, shall we say, look much different from the present. But do they need to know all the details?" He shrugged eloquently.

  "He's testing you," Vyxara warned. "How much you understand without him having to spell it out."

  "I understand," Valentina said simply, thinking of a suitable phrasing to signal to him that she really did understand. "Not everyone can claim to be important enough to be told the whole truth."

  "Exactly." Cosimo's lips curled upwards, and his satisfaction was evident. "You are so much more than just a pretty face, Valentina. I appreciate your discretion and your intelligence." His hand found her waist. "Of course, you are also exceptionally beautiful."

  The carriage slowed down and finally came to a stop. Through the window, Valentina saw a busy inn and stables where fresh horses were already waiting.

  "I have to see why we're stopping. Just a moment," Cosimo said, opening the door. "I need to speak with Sir August."

  He got out and was immediately surrounded by several of his retainers. Valentina remained in the carriage, as was proper. Through the gap in the curtain, she saw the second carriage roll up, and shortly thereafter Duchess Rosalind got out to stretch her legs, her gaze meeting Valentina's through the window. A brief, knowing nod, then the Duchess turned away.

  A strange pang shot through Valentina. Not necessarily guilt, but an awareness of the strangeness of this arrangement. Rosalind accepted, even supported her role, but that didn't change the fact that Valentina was sleeping with her husband.

  "There's no need to be so sheepish, little Weaver. The duchess is pragmatic," commented Vyxara. "And she knows what she has in you."

  In the evening, they stopped for the night at the manor of a minor nobleman who was only too happy to host the Duke of Duskenshire and his train. Naturally, the duke and duchess were assigned the best rooms, but the ladies-in-waiting were also given passable accommodations. Dinner was a reasonably opulent affair with five courses, local game, and even more wine.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  The host, a nervous baron in his forties, was almost beside himself with eagerness. "Your Grace, what an honor! And your lovely wife, radiant as ever. And these are...?"

  "Lady Beatrice, my first lady-in-waiting, and Valentina of Palewood, my second lady-in-waiting," the duchess explained smoothly. "The latter is a remarkable young talent from Bridgewater University, where she is studying Essence Weaving."

  After dinner, when the house had quieted down, Valentina heard the soft creak of her bedroom door. Cosimo slipped in, still wearing his loosened doublet but barefoot.

  "I couldn't sleep," he whispered with feigned innocence.

  She laughed softly and threw back the covers. "Of course you couldn't."

  Afterward, he lay heavy on top of her, his head on her shoulder, his breath warm on her neck. "I really missed you, Valentina," he murmured sleepily.

  "I missed you too, Cosimo," she admitted, stroking his hair.

  "You've grown accustomed to each other," Vyxara observed later as Cosimo slept beside her. "Dangerous, for both of you."

  "Why?" Valentina thought back.

  "Habit can become a weakness. Especially in Vandercourt, where everyone is looking for weaknesses."

  Valentina looked at Cosimo's sleeping face in the moonlight. The grey strands in his beard, the laugh lines around his eyes. He looked older in his sleep, more vulnerable. He would take care of her. And she would take care of him.

  ~

  Three days later, Vandercourt rose before them, the largest city Valentina had ever seen. The capital of the kingdom stretched between the mouths of two mighty rivers – the River Sunder in the north and the River Water in the south, the same river that flowed through Bridgewater. Valentina stuck her face out of the carriage window and could barely control her breathing.

  "It always overwhelms you the first time," Cosimo said with amused warmth, watching her reaction. "The walls alone are twice as high as those of Bridgewater."

  He was right. The massive fortifications rose like stone cliffs, crowned by countless banners, like the royal coat of arms of the ruling Vanderlieu family, interspersed with the colors of the other assembled noble houses. Behind them lay a sea of roofs, towers, and domes and of course a sizable Flametower. Smoke rose from a thousand chimneys, mingling with the salty smell of the nearby sea.

  "Quite impressive," Vyxara murmured in her mind. "Now that's what I call a real city."

  The carriage rolled through the western gate, past city guards armed with halberds. The noise of the city crashed down upon them. Merchants hawked their wares, carriages rattled over cobblestones and countless children ran between the legs of adults. On their way to the ducal townhouse alone Valentina saw four markets larger than the entire university square in Bridgewater, magnificent townhouses one after another, and in the distance, perched on a hill, the royal palace itself.

  "Dusktown may be rich," she said quietly, "but this..."

  "Is the heart of the realm," Cosimo finished her sentence. His hand found hers and squeezed it gently. "I'm glad I can show it to you."

  The ducal townhouse was located in one of Vandercourt's most expensive neighborhoods, just minutes from the palace. Valentina immediately realized that this was no random location, for only the most powerful families in the realm resided here. The Greystone estate rose four stories high, its facade made of light stone and interspersed with dark wooden beams. The Greystone banners with the red-eyed silver moon on a grey background fluttered proudly in the afternoon breeze.

  As their carriage came to a halt, the household staff was already forming two perfect rows in front of the entrance. Valentina counted at least twenty servants, from the strict housekeeper to the youngest kitchen maids. Then only a few short moments later, the second carriage with the duchess and Lady Beatrice rolled up.

  "Welcome to Vandercourt," said Cosimo, helping her out.

  Duke and Duchess Greystone met each other on the steps of their townhouse with the practiced elegance of a long-established couple. Cosimo kissed Rosalind's hand with formal gallantry.

  "My dear," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I hope you had a pleasant journey?"

  "The journey was certainly tolerable," Rosalind replied with a small smile that seemed both warm and distant. Her green eyes glanced briefly at Valentina, a barely perceptible look of understanding and she continued whispering. "Maybe not quite as… eventful as yours."

  A honey-blonde woman in her late twenties stepped forward next to her. Lady Beatrice, the duchess's first lady-in-waiting. Her cobalt blue traveling dress was immaculate despite the long journey, and her entire demeanor exuded the effortless elegance of a born courtier.

  "Your Grace," said the housekeeper, a wiry woman named Dundee, with a deep curtsy. "Welcome to your townhouse. Your chambers are already prepared, and a late lunch will be served in an hour."

  "Excellent." Rosalind addressed the assembled staff. "This is Lady Beatrice, my first lady-in-waiting, whom you already know. And this," she pointed to Valentina, "is Valentina of Palewood, my second lady-in-waiting for the duration of parliament."

  A very quiet murmur rippled through the ranks. Valentina had been seen stepping out of the duke's carriage of course. Some of the older servants exchanged knowing glances. The younger ones regarded her with barely concealed curiosity.

  "They all know," Vyxara remarked amusedly. "But they will remain silent outwardly. Among themselves, of course, they will be bursting with gossip."

  "Lorenzo will likely arrive tomorrow," Rosalind explained casually as she climbed the steps. "He still had urgent obligations to attend to in Bridgewater that kept him a day longer."

  Valentina felt a twinge in her chest. Lorenzo had probably wanted to avoid the ordeal of traveling with her and his father in the same entourage, having to watch them rock the carriage at regular intervals.

  The interior of the townhouse was even more impressive than the facade. The entrance hall was paneled in dark wood, and Essence lamps cast warm light on paintings of former Greystone dukes. A curved staircase led to the upper floors.

  "The layout is quite simple," Lady Beatrice explained as she led Valentina through the corridors. "The ducal chambers are on the third floor. Her Grace, the duchess, resides on the second floor. Your room, Valentina, is also on the second floor, near the duchess, but with direct access to the staircase."

  The emphasis on the last part was subtle but unmistakable. The room was strategically placed to facilitate discreet nocturnal visits.

  "How thoughtful," Vyxara purred. "Close enough to fulfill your official role, while at the same time conveniently located for your unofficial one."