ceramic tiles, both inside and out, some done in geometric patterns, others worked into delightful murals depicting all manner of imaginary creatures, and more than a few scenes Arkady recognised from the Tide Lord Tarot.
It also boasted extensive (not to mention expensive-to-maintain) stables almost as impressive as the royal stables. The Torlenians were mad for horseracing, she soon discovered, and expected every man of substance to keep a number of thoroughbreds for just that purpose. They'd inherited, along with the vast ambassadorial palace, the Glaeban racing stables and Stellan was already receiving polite challenges on a daily basis to race his horses against other noble houses in the capital.
There were several other wives living in the seraglium, but few of them struck Arkady as being the
sort of women she might befriend. They were either privately scornful of her common-born origins, or scandalised by her much-talked-about independence. They had their own lives and concerns and weren't all that interested in welcoming a newcomer into their midst, which really didn't bother Arkady, because there wasn't one of them capable of holding an intelligent conversation in the first place.
The palace staff numbered over a hundred and was made up of a mixture of Torlenian and Glaeban Crasii and a number of human servants. Before they'd left Glaeba, Declan Hawkes, the King's Spymaster, had provided Arkady and Stellan with a comprehensive list of who, among their vast staff, was thought to be a spy, not only of Torlenia but of Caelum, Senestra, Tenacia, the Commonwealth of Elenovia, Stevania and half-a-dozen other countries who considered it prudent to know what was happening in the Glaeban embassy. Stellan had dismissed a dozen of the suspected spies on his arrival, but kept on the ones Declan was certain of. The dismissals were for show, of course. Everyone would think the new ambassador had cleaned out his palace, unaware of the other spies in his midst. It meant Stellan was now free to spread a great deal of disinformation among the remaining spies who believed they had escaped detection.
This whole business of spies and disinformation made Arkady's head ache. She had two known spies in her service: her hairdresser, a canine Crasii named Peppi, who spied for the Elenovians and a Glaeban wardrobe mistress named Natalay Wren, who was, according to Declan's report, in the pay of the Torlenians. Arkady couldn't understand why they put up with her. The woman was selling out her own country for a tidy monthly stipend. She should be beheaded for treason, in Arkady's opinion, not indulged or ignored. Arkady had made a point of telling Declan that, too, for all the good it did.
She was thinking it still, as Natalay put the finishing touches on her hair and the palace seamstress, Linnie Kirell, adjusted the hem of her gown. Arkady was being very careful of her appearance this morning. The Imperator's Consort had issued an invitation to the Glaeban Ambassador's wife to visit her in the royal seraglium.
Although hidden away by their men like valuable treasures one feared the neighbours might steal, in their own way, the women of Torlenia had power. Of a sort. It was subtle and it was usually hidden and the pinnacle of that power was the Imperator's Consort.
Arkady couldn't afford to offend her.
'Have you ever met the consort?' Arkady asked her seamstress, as the woman bit off a loose thread and then smoothed down the hem of the gown. It was made from embroidered gold cloth, exquisite in its detail and completely wasted, given that over the top of all this finery would have to go that wretched shroud.
'No, your grace,' the woman replied, standing back to admire her handiwork. 'Lady Jorgan met her, though.'
'And how did they get along — Lady Jorgan and the Imperator's Consort?'
'Not very well,' Linnie admitted. And then she smiled. 'But I'd not place too much store in that, your grace. Nobody got on very well with Lady
It also boasted extensive (not to mention expensive-to-maintain) stables almost as impressive as the royal stables. The Torlenians were mad for horseracing, she soon discovered, and expected every man of substance to keep a number of thoroughbreds for just that purpose. They'd inherited, along with the vast ambassadorial palace, the Glaeban racing stables and Stellan was already receiving polite challenges on a daily basis to race his horses against other noble houses in the capital.
There were several other wives living in the seraglium, but few of them struck Arkady as being the
sort of women she might befriend. They were either privately scornful of her common-born origins, or scandalised by her much-talked-about independence. They had their own lives and concerns and weren't all that interested in welcoming a newcomer into their midst, which really didn't bother Arkady, because there wasn't one of them capable of holding an intelligent conversation in the first place.
The palace staff numbered over a hundred and was made up of a mixture of Torlenian and Glaeban Crasii and a number of human servants. Before they'd left Glaeba, Declan Hawkes, the King's Spymaster, had provided Arkady and Stellan with a comprehensive list of who, among their vast staff, was thought to be a spy, not only of Torlenia but of Caelum, Senestra, Tenacia, the Commonwealth of Elenovia, Stevania and half-a-dozen other countries who considered it prudent to know what was happening in the Glaeban embassy. Stellan had dismissed a dozen of the suspected spies on his arrival, but kept on the ones Declan was certain of. The dismissals were for show, of course. Everyone would think the new ambassador had cleaned out his palace, unaware of the other spies in his midst. It meant Stellan was now free to spread a great deal of disinformation among the remaining spies who believed they had escaped detection.
This whole business of spies and disinformation made Arkady's head ache. She had two known spies in her service: her hairdresser, a canine Crasii named Peppi, who spied for the Elenovians and a Glaeban wardrobe mistress named Natalay Wren, who was, according to Declan's report, in the pay of the Torlenians. Arkady couldn't understand why they put up with her. The woman was selling out her own country for a tidy monthly stipend. She should be beheaded for treason, in Arkady's opinion, not indulged or ignored. Arkady had made a point of telling Declan that, too, for all the good it did.
She was thinking it still, as Natalay put the finishing touches on her hair and the palace seamstress, Linnie Kirell, adjusted the hem of her gown. Arkady was being very careful of her appearance this morning. The Imperator's Consort had issued an invitation to the Glaeban Ambassador's wife to visit her in the royal seraglium.
Although hidden away by their men like valuable treasures one feared the neighbours might steal, in their own way, the women of Torlenia had power. Of a sort. It was subtle and it was usually hidden and the pinnacle of that power was the Imperator's Consort.
Arkady couldn't afford to offend her.
'Have you ever met the consort?' Arkady asked her seamstress, as the woman bit off a loose thread and then smoothed down the hem of the gown. It was made from embroidered gold cloth, exquisite in its detail and completely wasted, given that over the top of all this finery would have to go that wretched shroud.
'No, your grace,' the woman replied, standing back to admire her handiwork. 'Lady Jorgan met her, though.'
'And how did they get along — Lady Jorgan and the Imperator's Consort?'
'Not very well,' Linnie admitted. And then she smiled. 'But I'd not place too much store in that, your grace. Nobody got on very well with Lady
Similar Books
