Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(80)

“Rather like riding a bicycle,” she said.

Naida’s eyebrows elevated at a slight angle. “That, I wouldn’t know.”

She opened her mouth. She almost invited Naida for bicycle riding lessons, but there was some quality to the other woman’s composed and sophisticated self-containment that made her hesitate. She said instead, “Bike riding is great fun.” She turned to Aubrey, “Perhaps we can have that chat soon.”

Aubrey smiled, the fan of crow’s-feet deepening attractively at the corners of his eyes. “I am at your disposal. When would you like to talk?”

“Why don’t we get together after I’ve greeted everybody?”

Naida murmured to Aubrey, “I will see to it that refreshments are served in the study.”

Niniane hesitated again. Why did that seem off to her? Naida was only helping to smooth the way by acting as de facto hostess, but this was not the other woman’s house, nor was she a servant.

Or perhaps anything would feel odd at this point. How should one welcome a long-lost heir to the Dark Fae throne to one of her own homes after her murderous uncle had just been killed? It was not exactly a social occasion covered by Emily Post. Not that Naida would have read Emily Post any more than she would have ridden a bike. Niniane didn’t have time to examine the situation further, so she shook off her reaction and turned to greet Kellen and Arethusa, who responded with such warmth, it put the smile back on Niniane’s face.

After greeting Naida and the Dark Fae delegation, they withdrew into the house and she turned her attention to the staff who took care of the property. She started with the steward, Brennan, who was an elderly Dark Fae male with a nervous gaze and restless hands. After greeting him she worked through the house staff and the gardeners. Then she spoke briefly with the captain of the guard, Prydian, who was a close-mouthed man with a shielded gaze who answered her in monosyllables. She also spoke with those guards who were not on active duty watching the gate or other parts of the property.

She made a point to say something to each member of staff, to ask their names and to make a comment or two about their work or to ask after their personal lives. To a person, they reacted to her attention with astonishment and varying degrees of pleasure. She suspected her uncle Urien had not been big on wasting his charm on anyone he deemed Powerless or without political influence.

All the while she carried an intense awareness of Tiago taking watch at her back. He moved when she did, a smooth and silent shadow. Then something different happened. His Power tightened around her as palpably as if he had reached out to grasp her shoulder. She paused, and only years of practice helped her keep from frowning at Prydian, the guard captain with whom she had been chatting. Keeping her movement casual, she took a step back toward Tiago, and his Power lightened again and became almost caressing.

Interesting. She made a point of looking around, as if to admire the front gardens, and she used the opportunity to glance at Tiago. He looked bland and no doubt as discreet as he could, but she noticed that she had come close to stepping out of the “safe zone” area, which would have brought her too close to a potential assailant while at the same time a shade too far from her guard. Tiago had corrected her course without interrupting her telepathically or using a physical gesture. Not long afterward she felt his Power nudge her more to the right, and again when she shifted to comply, the warm sense of his presence lightened as it brushed against her skin.

He would be forming his own opinions of the people she met, cataloguing reactions with names and faces as he conducted a risk assessment. She would make sure to ask him later what he thought of Brennan’s nervousness and Prydian’s guardedness. She couldn’t dismiss everybody just because they had worked for her uncle. They couldn’t all be enemies. Most of them had probably never even spoken to Urien.

It was also true, however, that this was property of some import as it was the main gateway from the Dark Fae lands to Chicago. As such, everything here deserved special scrutiny, although not everything had to be acted upon immediately.

After a half an hour or so, she turned to the house and motioned Brennan to her side. “I’m ready to be shown to the study now,” she said.

“Of course, your highness!” the steward said. He rubbed his hands together, perpetually washing them. “I will be delighted to show you whatever you like!”

It was impossible to believe him. Even her rudimentary truthsense snorted in disbelief. Brennan wasn’t delighted about anything at the moment. It was clear he was overcome with anxiety. No doubt he was afraid he was about to lose his job. She tried not to let her repulsion for him show. She wanted to snap at him to stop what he was doing and to slap his hands apart. The poor man looked like Montgomery Burns from The Simpsons. She gestured for him to lead the way.

As they stepped into the cool, elegant interior of the house, Tiago said suddenly in her head, Be honest. How angry would you be with me if I squashed this bug?

She glanced over her shoulder in startled glee. That thing he’s doing with his hands is making me crazy. But he must be a very effective steward to have survived under Urien’s rule, and we cannot kill everybody we don’t like.

What if I don’t kill him? Tiago said, his mental voice thoughtful. I could mash him up a bit around the edges and make him a size smaller.

She pinched her nose hard until her eyes stung and managed to turn her laugh into a cough. This was what had been missing during their quiet drive from the hotel, all the sentinels talking smack. Even though Rune and Aryal were traveling with them to Adriyel, everyone had been feeling the impending separation.