What the Cat Knows
Warsza swept her hand once more over Marie's soft grey fur and tilted her head. True, her brother had never once shown a preference for a woman's looks, nor spoken a word about appearance in all his life.
But even if his taste leaned toward character over beauty, a member of the royal family had to take a spouse with nothing wanting—flawless in every respect. A composed, lovely face, a warm and gracious manner, impeccable conduct: these were the things that endeared one easily to nobles and commoners alike.
"She's like your cat."
Henrik looked down at Marie with a gaze that was gentle, unreadable. The cat lay purring in her mistress's arms, wriggling coquettishly as if to show off.
"Oh my, Brother."
Warsza laughed, clearly delighted.
"You've never said such a thing before. Though if we're being honest, everyone knows the Biauby daughter is graceful and beautiful, don't they? There are plenty here who've been clawing for your attention, and you've simply been pretending not to notice them all."
Henrik shrugged like some rakish scoundrel.
"How would I know the affairs of women, Warsza?"
"Really, Brother. Honestly."
At the last banquet too, he had said much the same thing while carelessly turning away the Biauby girl. Watching him now, Warsza found herself recalling the rumors that had followed him back from the battlefield.
Her brother was tender to those who were his own, wise and deliberate in whatever he undertook. So why, on that field, had the prevailing opinion of him been that he was less than human?
Was it simply that he didn't seek out women as easily as other men did? She knew he had danced a few times with the opposite sex at other banquets, for political reasons—but it had always felt as though he were performing mere courtesy, nothing more.
Come to think of it, that was exactly like Leszyca, her other brother. Different mothers, the same father—it seemed the blood told after all.
"It could be that someone tries to claim a seat I haven't granted."
To his sister, still lost in thought, Henrik offered the answer.
Warsza gave her kind brother a faint smile. That was who he was—a man who decided everything himself, whether it was his own seat or another's.
"Ah, because your concubine has already claimed that seat, so that's why?"
"Yes. And…."
Henrik deliberately let his words trail off. There was more than one thing that set her apart from other women. And the most striking of them was, without a doubt—.
Then, abruptly, he remembered that night. The deeply private hours he had shared with her, the ones he could never speak of to anyone—not even to this close sister of his.
For that one moment, at least, she hadn't seemed merely a woman of reckless boldness.
"Hm. You're being uncharacteristically vague, Brother."
"Such things happen, Warsza."
"I understand. It's a matter between husband and wife, after all. Truly, I've only asked so many questions because I was so curious. Just being told this much is more than enough for me—I'm grateful."
"Thank you for understanding."
Warsza lounged in her relaxed, comfortable pose and drank a little more wine. It had tasted bitter a moment ago, but now it seemed sweet and full of flavor. It was a fine aroma, one that seemed to wash away the sour mood the recent incident had left behind. She hummed a contented little tune.
"Mm, and the way you treated the Biauby daughter at the banquet was so very amusing."
Henrik gave a small nod of agreement.
His coldness toward Tatra that day had been nothing more than the price of a transaction. A fact, of course, that his own wife knew well.
"That was my take on it, but I suppose the daughter of that house really is different."
Warsza drew a sly, teasing smile. Henrik acknowledged it, but privately his thoughts lingered on Attilenta.
She had seemed almost emotional then. Even though her expression had been nothing but cold.
"Anyway, what I really wanted to say was—thanks to your concubine, I've learned something too."
"Good for you, Warsza."
If his sister had relearned how to handle people, then throwing a banquet of this scale was nothing at all.
Henrik thought that even if this affair left nothing but loose threads dangling, it was fine. Cut the tail, and cut it again, and eventually the body would be bared.
Warsza chattered happily, smiling her brightest smile. In Henrik's eyes, his sister still looked like a girl.
If it were only possible, he would let her live exactly as she wished. But that, too, was a difficult thing. Until his long-cherished wish was fulfilled, all he could do was endure—and prepare.
"Next time, at the banquet where we host foreign envoys, I mean to use that salt. Whoever said only jewels carry such value—it's fascinating, isn't it?"
"Only an outsider's eye could have managed it."
"Different perspectives are necessary, I suppose. I'll have to watch her a while longer before I'm sure. I wonder if Marie will warm to her. Hmm, the first meeting looked promising…."
Tilting her head to the side, Warsza curved her eyes into a lovely arc.
"Not that your eye could ever be wrong, Brother."
"I'm glad you trust me so much, Warsza."
When Henrik played it off with easy nonchalance, Warsza laughed like an innocent young girl.
"Hehe. I always have."
The banquet Henrik and Princess Warsza had staged came to a resounding success. A wide array of jewels and beautiful ornaments went up for auction, and the atmosphere grew quite heated.
Throughout the festivities, Henrik seemed endlessly busy attending to one person after another, and I, for my part, managed the evening without incident.
It was the night the banquet ended. Having bathed with Poznan's help and stepped into my chamber, I found—as I always did—Henrik seated elegantly on the sofa, waiting for me.
"You've come at last. A long banquet—well done. Did you manage any rest?"
He wore the ghost of a smile. There was a faint scent of cigar, not heavy but sharp, an acrid sweetness of tobacco leaves.
I thought how extraordinarily well that fresh, easy smile suited him. By his own measure, this banquet had evidently gone quite smoothly.
"It was thanks to Your Highness's consideration. I'm glad as well that you seem satisfied with this banquet."
"That was your doing."
I did not demur; I simply accepted the praise. I had no desire to seize the tail of a man who looked that pleased with himself and drag it out needlessly.
Henrik had apparently bathed as well, for his hair was still damp. It seemed like time for him to rest, yet he was reading something with grave diligence.
Rather than choosing, as I had last time, to disturb him mid-read and commit some needless blunder, I sat quietly down across from him.
"I find myself wanting to ask you other things as well. How did you come up with that move?"
It occurred to me, suddenly, to think: well, of course I don't know this country's situation as well as you do—.
When I had resolved to turn you into my weapon, I had strained to learn as much as I possibly could.
Truthfully, locked away in that place, there had been nothing else to do besides such study. Magic had been a great help to me too, but I never forgot that it was merely one option among many.
"I never knew I'd be counting it as such a blessing that my education wasn't lacking."
Henrik had not used my magic for this affair. Small wonder, for a man who had so many weapons at his disposal.
Besides, my magic strained my body—it could never be used freely, anyway.
"That is admirable, and it makes sense. But you weren't from abroad?"
"Fortune favored me, Your Highness. The Poznan you assigned me has also told me a great deal about this place."
"I'm glad the maid proved useful."
Henrik was still holding that faint smile. Subtle, unrelenting.
I had no intention of letting my guard down entirely, yet I couldn't deny that some part of me had eased.
I returned the smile, just a little. Looking straight at Henrik as I did.
"This matter was well within Your Highness's own abilities. But if you should ever need me again, please use me freely. So much rests in your hands that if I can relieve even a fraction of your burden, that too will be a great honor to me."
He did not take his eyes off me.
"I have no reason to refuse."