Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(23)

“My sister, Joanna.”

“Your sister? Truly?”

“She’s quite unattached at the moment. I could introduce you.”

“I would like that!”

“So where are you gents bound for next?”

Cettie listened in on their conversation for a moment before shifting her attention to the entrance of the hotel. The lobby she stepped into was both immense and elegant, with huge crystal chandeliers, folded curtains that hung from enormous golden stays, and a lushly carpeted floor. A few guests roamed the interior, but she surmised the crowd would be much larger after dawn. There were servants bustling around, preparing for the day ahead, each wearing a satin uniform and powdered wig. After studying her surroundings a bit longer, she made her way to the main counter, behind which hung an enormous board with hundreds of slots for room keys. She approached one of the dozen or so attendants and introduced herself as Joanna Patchett.

“Ah, Miss Patchett, you’ve finally arrived!” said the greeter with a heavy Occitanian accent. “We’d expected you during the night. You came by sky ship, no?”

“Yes. My brother is also here and will be coming inside shortly. Can I have a key to our room, please?”

“Of course!” He was polished in his manners and very cheerful. “Your accommodations have all been paid in advance, I see. You are welcome to enjoy the breakfast feast at your leisure, though I imagine you are weary from your journey. I will have a manservant escort you to your room at once.” He snapped his finger, and a young man of fifteen or sixteen who’d been lounging against the back wall sprang into action. He was given the key to the room and instructions to take Cettie there.

As Cettie followed him to the room, she quickly became lost in the grandeur of the place, the veins of marble in the walls and the winding, though comfortably wide, hallways. All the decorations and cleanliness of the place didn’t put her at ease. She kept her senses alert, seeking anything that might be out of place, but that was difficult because she felt so out of place. She wore another woman’s smile, her stained dress concealed by the ring’s magic.

The manservant brought her to a set of wide, carpeted stairs, which could have easily fit a dozen people across. They climbed until Cettie’s legs began to ache. They passed a few people along the way, guests who’d already arisen, but Cettie greeted none of them unless she was greeted first. It fascinated her to see such an array of clothing and manners. Though she’d been taught to recognize and wear the various court fashions, it felt different to see them in person.

At last the manservant led her to her room, only differentiated from the identical doors lining the corridor due to the number engraved on the brass placard. The manservant inserted the key, twisted it, and opened the door. She gestured for him to go in first, still innately cautious.

The decor was just as lavish as she’d expect. There were two separate rooms, each with a large bed and an intricately carved dresser, connected by a common sitting room, plus a balcony and a changing room. She reached out with her power to sense the presence of anyone else in the room. Nothing. The young manservant familiarized her with the arrangements, tied open the curtain to expose the view of the gardens below, and then bowed to her.

“Will you bring my brother up here when he arrives?” she asked.

“I will, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.” Then he left her.

She was alone.

Even though she was in an enormous hotel, surrounded on all sides, she felt a small thrill of being alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her demons.

No one had told her what to do next. She had no current orders to follow.

Without planning it, she made her way onto the small balcony. She could see the underside of the hurricane above, its planks starting to glow with the rising of the sun. She looked down at the gardens, taking in the whorl-like pattern made from the green foliage below. It was vaguely reminiscent of the kystrel’s design.

She knew that Rand was no longer in the garden. She could sense him in the lobby, feeling at ease and a little smug at how much information he was getting from the unguarded officers.

As she stared out the window, she was reminded of Fog Willows and her view from the keeper’s chamber in the tower. It caused her heart to constrict. Had Lady Maren really taken a lover? She remembered Clive Francis, her mother’s old flame, but an affair with such an ill-chosen man didn’t seem in keeping with Lady Maren’s character. And yet . . . why would Rand lie about it so offhandedly? And then there was Adam and Anna. That was less of a surprise, though she still felt an angry twist of disappointment in her heart. Anna had loved Adam for years, since they were children, but Adam’s interest had always been in Cettie. It seemed a little out of character for him to dote on her now.

But then, didn’t people often act out of character? Wasn’t that exactly what she was doing? Cettie Pratt who had grown up in the Fells and become the keeper of Fog Willows would blush at Cettie the poisoner.

In the quiet, in her aloneness, she began to grieve again for all she had lost.

Then she sensed a wave of concern coming from Rand, concern because her emotions were spilling subtly into him. Curse the kystrel and the bond it had created! She’d been foolish to believe she was alone. She wouldn’t ever be alone anymore.

Leaving the balcony, she shut the door behind her and fell onto one of the beds. Why dwell on the past? She couldn’t change it. Why be miserable for decisions that had been forced on her? Yet . . . yet . . . hadn’t she chosen them ultimately? And wasn’t it regret that constantly chafed her heart?