Free Irona 700 by Dave Duncan Page B

designers’ taste. Irona had expected to find servants present, but wherever she went, from the grandiose master bedroom to the cavernous kitchens, she saw no one. Yet a fire smoldered in the kitchen range, and no speck of dust lingered anywhere.
    The tour ended in the ballroom, which was the only part of the building that Irona had visited before that day, and which commanded a breathtaking view of the city and its great circular bay.
    â€œA very fine neighborhood,” Azalka said thoughtfully. “Were I not chair of the Property Commission, I might crave it for my own.”
    â€œNeighbors?” Irona had already registered that the mansions flanking Sebrat were several times grander.
    â€œSeven Knipry this side, Chosen Ledacos that side.”
    He had not mentioned that cozy little arrangement. Irona had not been pursued by a man since Sklom bulged his biceps at her; now none dared express interest in her. Possibly Ledacos’s hints had been no more than some sort of ruling-class compliment, but the potential for future flirtation would add some spice to life. The fact that only a high stone wall would now separate her from her patron was the deciding factor. She was going to accept Sebrat House.
    â€œCan I possibly afford this?”
    Azalka chuckled. “If you can afford to feed eight or nine servants, you won’t notice the rent. Say two dolphins a month?”
    â€œIf you were to rent it to a citizen?”
    â€œTwo or three hundred.” Azalka smiled with the joy of power and took her companion’s assent for granted. “You can move in at any time. I mentioned to the servants and other residents that you might wish some of them to stay on. Would you like to interview them now?”
    â€œEr … yes.” The prospect would only get worse if she delayed.
    â€œRing a bell when you are ready, then. I must run. I have a meeting of the Ad Hoc Sumptuary Laws Committee at noon, such a bore. Please excuse …”
    Her voice tailed away as she hastened to the door. Irona went over to the nearest bell rope and tugged. She considered sitting on a chair of intricately carved narwhal ivory and was deterred by visions of it collapsing under her. She wandered back to the windows to enjoy the vista. Sebrat stood higher on the Mountain than Trodelat’s house.
    Within seconds, a woman entered and approached. She was swathed in black, so that only her arms were visible. Irona rose and held out hands to greet her, but the newcomer dropped to her knees, then lifted back her veil, keeping her eyes lowered. She looked far too young to have a son of about Irona’s age, but that just meant that Chosen Podnelbi had provided his paramour with Source Water. Her shoulders bore the brands of a freedwoman. Even in grief, she was beautiful.
    â€œI am Velny Lavice, ma’am.”
    â€œPlease rise.”
    Velny shot her a surprised glance and almost imperceptibly shook her head. A freedwoman ranked above a slave but below a citizen and infinitely far below one of the goddess’s Chosen.
    Irona might make mistakes, but she must not admit to them. The last time they had met, Velny had been mistress of the house.
    â€œI insist! We are not yet mistress and servant and may never be. At the moment I am merely a friend come to offer sympathy.”
    Velny rose, Irona embraced her, then led the way to a couch.
    â€œI am told that the law evicts you with disgusting haste. Have you family to go to? Other plans?”
    â€œNone, ma’am.”
    Not even the married daughter? “It was suggested that you might be willing to stay on here and run the establishment as my housekeeper.”
    â€œI should be deeply grateful for such mercy, ma’am, and would serve you to the very best of my ability.”
    â€œThen we are agreed. What would you pay a housekeeper?”
    â€œBetween three and five dolphins, ma’am, depending on her performance.”
    â€œI heard seven, so