shoulder was toward Davad, excluding him. ‘I am so glad you like them. I had feared you would rebuke me for letting Reyn indulge himself in such plenty. I know we had agreed he must keep his gifts simple.’
In actuality, Ronica felt that Jani had overstepped the bounds of her agreement. Before she could find a tactful way to let her know that Reyn must not do it again, Davad chimed for her. ‘Simple? What place has simplicity in a young man’s passion? Were I a boy again and courting such a girl as Malta, I, too, would attempt to overwhelm her with gifts.’
Ronica finally found her tongue. ‘But I am sure a young man like Reyn will want to be valued for himself, not his presents. Such a display is worthy of their first presentation to one another, but I am sure his courtship to follow will be more restrained.’ By addressing her words to Davad rather than Jani, Ronica hoped to avoid giving offence while still letting her position be known.
‘Nonsense!’ Davad insisted. ‘Look at them. Does she look to you as if she wishes him to be restrained?’
Malta was all but enthroned in flowers. She sat in an armed chair, holding a great bouquet on her lap. Pots and vases of blooms and greenery had been placed around her. A single red flower had been pinned to the shoulder of her demure white dress. Another had been fastened into her upswept hair. They complimented the warm tones of her skin, and made her black hair seem even glossier. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke softly to the young man that stood so attentively beside her. Yet every so often, she would glance up at him through her eyelashes. When she did, her mouth would curve in the tiniest of cat-smiles.
Reyn Khuprus was dressed all in blue. A discarded cloak of dark blue draped an adjacent chair. His traditional Rain Wild garb of loose trousers and a long-sleeved shirt effectively camouflaged any deformities from the casual eye. He had a lean waist that he had proudly sashed with a wide silk belt. It was a darker hue than his other clothes. Black boots peeped out from the loose cuffs of his trousers. The backs of his fine black gloves were studded with azure flame-gems in a breathtaking display of casual wealth. His hood was plain, made from the same silk as his sash. His face veil was black lace, effectively obscuring his features. Although his face was invisible, one sensed his rapt attention in the cant of his head.
‘Malta is very young,’ Ronica said. She spoke quickly, before anyone could say any more. ‘She does not have the wisdom to know when to go slowly. It is up to her mother and me to exercise that caution. Jani and I have agreed that, for their own sakes, these young people must not be allowed to be too impulsive.’
‘Well, I fail to see why,’ Davad contradicted her jovially. ‘What can come of this except good? Eventually, Malta must wed. Why stand in the path of young romance? Think of what may come of this: grandchildren for Jani, great-grandchildren for you, Ronica. And mutually profitable trade arrangements for all, I don’t doubt.’
It pained Ronica to hear Davad so laboriously drag the conversation in the direction he wished it to go. Over the years, she had come to know the man too well. This was why he was truly here. He was an old friend of the family; he genuinely cared for Malta and what became of her. But the greatest part of his heart had long ago been given over to trade and the profits there from. For good or ill, it was how Davad’s mind worked. He had never hesitated to use his friendships to the good of his business deals, though he seldom risked a business profit for the sake of friendship.
All this passed through Ronica’s mind in a fraction of a moment. She saw Davad clearly, as she had always known him to be. She had never evaluated what it meant to have such a friend. Differences in politics had not persuaded her to set him aside, even when many other Traders ceased dealing with him. He was not a truly evil man; he simply did not give much thought to what he did. Profits beckoned and he followed, into slave trading, into the questionable practices of the New Traders, even to making a profit from Malta’s unsought courtship. He meant no harm by it; he never considered it in terms of right and wrong.
That did not make him harmless. Not in terms of what he could inadvertently do to the Vestrit family if he offended Jani Khuprus just now. The Khuprus family held the note on the liveship Vivacia. Ronica had reluctantly accepted Reyn’s courtship of Malta in the certainty that he would soon realize how young and unsuitable she was. For Reyn to begin such a courtship and then break it off would give her an odd social advantage. The Vestrit family might be seen as the injured party; the Khuprus family would be expected to be more than civil in their business dealings. But if the Khuprus family broke off the courtship because the Vestrit family had undesirable political connections, the attitude of the other Traders towards her family might be substantially different. Ronica had already felt social pressure to cut off her association with Davad Restart. She would be in a financial quagmire if that were extended to trading pressure.
The wise thing to do would be to dump Davad Restart.
Loyalty forbade that. And pride. If the Vestrit family allowed itself to be governed by what others perceived as correct, they would lose all control of their destiny. Not that much control truly remained in their hands.
The silence had grown uncomfortable. Ronica felt a resigned fascination coupled with horror. What dreadful thing would Davad say next? He was completely unaware of how gauche he was being. He smiled brightly and began, ‘Speaking of trade alliances –’
Rescue came from an unexpected quarter. Keffria swept up to them. A very fine mist of perspiration on her brow was the only visible sign of the agitation she undoubtedly felt at seeing Davad stand so close to Jani Khuprus for so long. She touched his arm lightly and asked him quietly if he could assist her in the kitchen, just for a moment. The servants were having difficulty opening some of the old wines she had chosen; could he come and supervise that task?
Keffria had chosen well. Wine and the correct serving of it were one of Davad’s favourite obsessions. He hastened away with Keffria following him, nodding as he spoke learnedly of the correct way to uncork a bottle to minimize agitation. Ronica sighed out in relief.
‘I wonder that you even tolerate him being here,’ Jani observed quietly. Now that Davad had gone, she stood at Ronica’s side. She spoke confidentially to her, beneath the music and conversation in the room. ‘The other day I heard him referred to as the Traitor Trader. He denies it, but all know he has been the go-between for the New Traders in many of their most tawdry dealings. It is even said that he is behind the New Traders who are making such ridiculous offers in the hope of buying the Paragon.’
‘Shockingly ridiculous offers,’ Ronica agreed in a low voice. ‘I think it is scandalous that the Ludluck family even allows them to be presented.’ She ventured a small smile as she presented this thought to Jani. To be sure her point was not missed, she added the old Trader adage, ‘After all, it takes two to strike a bargain.’
‘Indeed,’ Jani agreed coolly. ‘But isn’t it cruel of Davad that he tempts the Ludlucks with such offers? He knows how straitened their circumstances are.’
‘Most Bingtown Traders are feeling the pinch these days. Including the Vestrits. So we form alliances with one another, ones that may strike others as strange. Davad, for instance, came by today to offer me the use of his servants, for he was well aware we had reduced our staff to a mere skeleton.’
There. That was out in the open now. If Reyn’s courtship were mistakenly based on a supposed wealth the Vestrit family no longer possessed, it would soon be terminated.
When Jani Khuprus replied, Ronica discovered she had misjudged the depth of the woman’s graciousness. ‘I, too, was aware of your financial worries. It pleases me to see Reyn courting a young woman who understands the necessity of living within one’s means. Thrift and discipline are virtues always, no matter what one’s wealth. The servants we brought with us were meant, not to embarrass you, but to assist in making this a carefree time for all.’ Sincerity rang in her voice.
Ronica answered it. ‘Davad can be a difficult friend. I could abandon him. However, I have never seen the virtue in that. I have never respected folk who cast out offspring or relatives that displeased them. It always seemed to me that the duty of family is to continue trying to correct, no matter how painful. Why should it be different with old family friends? Especially