Gilded Cage (Dark Gifts #1)(79)

Not drifted. Been drawn.

He had turned it over in his mind often since then. He had been convinced, at the time, that his daughter had summoned it by Skill. In the following weeks, he had watched her avidly for further Skillful signs, but none had come. Perhaps it really had been just a chance breeze, a snap of the boat’s moorings. Or perhaps it had been Gavar himself, his own Skill working unconsciously to delight his child.

But he wasn’t ready, just yet, to give up the idea that it had been an early, spontaneous showing of ability. Yes, it was unheard of that a child of mixed parentage could be Skilled. But it was also unheard of that a child of Equal parentage could be Skilless, yet look at the walking absurdity that was Jenner.

If Libby was Skilled, she could inherit, illegitimate or not. Though Gavar’s wife-to-be would doubtless have something to say about that.

The thought of Bouda drew him unwillingly back to the present and to the Long Gallery. Some share of the conversation up and down the breakfast table would be gossip about the wedding. But Gavar suspected most of it was speculation about this morning’s opening act, for which almost none of Kyneston’s guests would be present.

The audience for Aunt Euterpe’s awakening – or Silyen’s failure – would be small. Besides family, and Zelston, there were just ten official witnesses. Half of them had known the two sisters when they were girls, and were chosen by Mother. The other half were parliamentarians, invited by Father.

Those picked for the latter group were a puzzling selection. When Gavar had asked why that five in particular, Father had told him to figure it out himself.

Slaves were hovering with trays, dishes and napkin-covered baskets of every conceivable breakfast delicacy. Having loaded up his plate with toast and bacon, Gavar felt equal to solving the puzzle.

The five weren’t Father’s intimates, but they were well disposed towards him and each commanded the loyalty of a number of lesser estate-holders. It struck Gavar that they were people who could be converted from admirers into allies with a sufficiently spectacular demonstration of Jardine family power.

Such as Euterpe Parva’s almost-resurrection.

Gavar frowned and called for more coffee. The slave with the silver pot couldn’t have moved faster if he’d been poked with a fork, but Gavar suspected that Silyen never even had to call. The stuff was scalding, just how Sil liked it. Gavar let it sit there and cool.

Could that really be what Father was scheming? The man had some nerve. And figuring out the plan presumably proved that Gavar was worthy of being in on it. Another test.

Well, Gavar had passed this one.

He left his coffee untouched and headed back to the upper east corridor and the family quarters. Gavar hammered on the largest door and Father opened it a short way, unsmiling. His dressing gown was knotted loosely at the waist and he held a glass in his hand. A faint perfume seeped around the door.

‘Worked it out, then?’ Father said. ‘That’s a relief. I would have disowned you otherwise, and I’m running out of passable sons. We’re all meeting in my study at four this afternoon, after Silyen’s attempt.’

The door closed again. Gavar looked at it in disgust. For a moment he considered kicking it.

But no, he had a better solution these days. He’d go for a run then swing by the slave cottages. Libby would be glad to see him and he’d released Daisy from house duty, despite Jenner’s all-hands-on-deck policy. The pair of them always acted as if a visit from Gavar was the highlight of their day.

In his more ridiculous moments, he wondered if it was the highlight of his, too.

Daisy made him a cup of tea and together they watched Libby bottom-shuffle on the rug, playing with coloured blocks. When Gavar realized he had to get back for Silyen’s showtime, Daisy said they’d walk over to the house with him, and hurried to find a coat and carrier for Libby.

‘You can’t,’ Gavar called, as he heard her rootling among the clothes pegs in the hall. ‘Father said she mustn’t be seen.’

Daisy stuck her head back round the hallway door. She looked outraged.

‘The pig!’

Gavar couldn’t agree more. His anger had blown out several panes from the Small Solar window when Father had told him. But the man had repeated his threat to strip Libby of the Jardine name. Gavar had clenched his fists so hard he wondered if it was possible to break your own fingers, or if being an Equal meant your Skill would protect you from yourself.

He scooped his daughter up from the floor and held her close, smothering her face with kisses. The baby squirmed and giggled.

‘She knows her daddy is so proud of her, though. Don’t you, Libby? Daddy loves you.’

‘Dada,’ Libby agreed, reaching out a pudgy hand and patting his cheek. ‘Dada.’

And there, thought Gavar – right there, in his child – was more magic than Silyen would ever be capable of performing.

Surprisingly, though, Sil didn’t make a big production of waking Aunt Euterpe.

They’d all crowded into the bedchamber, just as arranged. Sil had indeed brought Crovan, who folded himself into the furthest corner by the window. Gavar was next to Jenner, both of them standing behind Father. Father had his hands on Mother’s shoulders, every inch the supportive husband.

Gavar wondered whose perfume he had smelled that morning. Poor Aunty Terpy would have a quarter-century of gossip about her sister’s marital woes to catch up on.