Free Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses) by Sharon Shinn

mistress?” the proprietor asked, so Tayse rapped smartly on the door and passed the information along. Quite soon, the innkeeper had disappeared back downstairs, Martin Helven had seated himself across from Kirra on some highly decorated furniture, and Tayse was standing on the inside of the room with his back to the door. Kirra had told him the Helven man would not think it strange if he stood guard even during a private conversation, and so he had chosen to listen in—impassively, of course. Senneth sat on the window seat, appearing to embroider something. He found himself wondering if this was a skill she really had and, if so, what particular pattern she was working on. She had resumed her maid’s identity and looked as plain and unmemorable as a woman could look.
    “Marlord Martin. It is so good of you to come visit me upon such short notice,” Kirra was saying in a warm voice. “Would you like some wine? Some tea? The innkeeper brought me these wonderful little cakes earlier today—he’s really the kindest man.”
    The nobleman beamed at this praise. “I’m glad you find him accommodating. I own the hotel, you know, and the man works for me. He’s always seemed to do a good job, but I’m glad to hear you’re pleased.”
    “Ah, I wasn’t aware that you owned this place!” Kirra exclaimed, though Tayse was instantly certain that she had known it and had picked the establishment for that very reason. “Well, you’ve done a most excellent job. You’ve such a good head for business. My father has often remarked at how any enterprise you turn to is invariably a success.”
    “Well, here in Helven, we have only crops and commerce, so we do what we can,” the marlord said in a voice that he tried to make sound modest. “I’ve long envied you your coastline and fishing ventures—but then, it is always fashionable to envy Danalustrous!”
    Kirra laughed merrily. Tayse was pretty sure she was flirting with the marlord in the way that a young woman always seemed to know how to flirt with an older man—meaning nothing by it except to smooth her own way. “Danalustrous thanks you,” she said. “So tell me! What’s the news from the middle of the kingdom? I have been up north so long I feel I’m completely out of touch with this part of the world.”
    They gossiped for a good half hour, trading names and exclaiming over events that seemed so numerous and so trivial that Tayse could hardly conceal his stupefaction. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Senneth once or twice, to see if she was exhibiting any discreet signs of boredom, but all her attention was on her needle and thread. She never even looked out the window while Tayse watched.
    Kirra, though, was subtler than Tayse had given her credit for. One name got idly tossed into the conversation, and then she hesitated for a moment, and then she said in a low voice, “But she’s—didn’t I hear—there was a rumor that she might be showing signs of being a mystic.”
    Martin Helven actually glanced around the room, but seeing only a guard and a maid—in short, nobody—he seemed to feel it was safe to speak. “Yes, and her father was quite upset about it at first, but he has tried to show forbearance. It is not—forgive me, serra Kirra—it is not what one prays for when one’s daughter is born, that she will grow up to wield magical power. It makes life so hard, for the girl and all her family. And especially so these days—” His voice trailed off as he glanced around the room again.
    Kirra leaned forward conspiratorially. “Yes, please, what can you tell me about the prevailing attitudes farther south? I had planned to continue my travels down toward Fortunalt and Rappengrass, but I have been starting to feel—well—less welcome than I always have. Is it my imagination, or is it my magic that is turning old friends against me?”
    “I would never turn against you, serra Kirra,” the marlord said solemnly, “but your instincts