Chapter 7
Reyn jabbed ata key on the pianoforte. It was no way to treat such a splendid instrument, but she couldn’t bring herself to play. The only tunes she had in her mind were all depressingly . . . well, depressing.
Selona had left for the bank before Reyn even got out of bed that morning. Lisca was busy dealing with some mediation between two of the Forty Families. Even Khiran was out helping a physician as she made her rounds—not that Reyn wanted to spend her day failing at learning to control her lure again.
She could go out to the park, and several of the men and women she had met since coming to Tryn would be there, but there was something about going by herself that made it unappealing.
She tapped out a tune she had learned when she first started playing, something mindless and happy. The simple song did little to cheer her. She didn’t feel lonely, that wasn’t it. Reyn got along with most everyone. She normally wouldn’t mind going to the park alone, because she knew she wouldn’t be alone for long. After the soiree, though, Reyn was wondering if flirting was all she’d ever have in life.
“Lady Reyn?” A servant stood in the doorway to the music room. She held a letter in her hand. “This came for you.”
Reyn jumped from the bench with more haste than was decorous. She murmured her thanks and accepted the letter. Retreating to the pianoforte, she saw that it had come from Merine. Reyn smiled. She missed her best friend, but she was so happy for her.
The smile lasted while she read about Merine’s life in Daalj, but when she put the letter down, she couldn’t help but notice the differences between her friend’s life and her own. Reyn didn’t want to marry any time soon, but she had to admit it would be nice to have someone around who loved her the way Andros loved Merine. Having someone to love that way might also cheer her up on days like today. Days when she realized everyone else had important roles to fill or spent their days making the world a better place, while Reyn sat at a pianoforte and looked pretty.
Merine had always wanted to make life better for children throughout Moial and now Daalj. She had established an orphanage back home. Now she and her husband were establishing a kingdom-wide educational system in Daalj. And what was Reyn doing? Flirting with men she didn’t even like. Fine, she used her position to distract bullies occasionally, but was that really an accomplishment?
She didn’t even stand up to the people doing the bullying. If anything, her attention bolstered them, for where Reyn led, others followed. Perhaps that was her one use: bestowing status on others. If so, then she needed to take more care before spending time with certain people.
Abandoning the pianoforte, Reyn took the letter back to her room. Replying to Merine would fill a few of the hours until Selona returned.
She filled a paper with descriptions of ballrooms and gowns. She was about to launch into a detailed account of all the shops she had visited when she realized Merine had visited Lhanaperi. Merine had walked the streets of Tryn with Selona as her guide before Reyn ever left Moial. Reyn threw down her pen. She had nothing interesting to share. Oh, she could recount the conversations she had with different men and women, but what was the point? She never spoke of anything meaningful.
Reyn tried to think of a funny exchange—at least she could offer Merine some amusement to break up her busy days. Every time she lifted her pen, though, she realized the joke either made no sense out of context or it was at someone’s expense. Five hells.
She picked up her pen once more and wrote a sentence about how busy Selona was at the bank. One sentence. She couldn’t add anything more, because she didn’t know what Selona even did every day when she went to the bank. Nor could she write about Lisca’s job as a mediator.
Neither woman shared the details of her job with Reyn. She didn’t know if it was confidential or if they wanted a break from thinking about it. Serious topics never came up when they spoke with her. The more Reyn thought about it, the more she wondered. Maybe they didn’t confide in her because they didn’t think she would appreciate or even understand their work.
It was a sobering thought. Did even her friends consider her nothing more than a socialite? They liked her, but did they respect her?
At this point, Reyn wasn’t even sure she respected herself.
Benthen, the Geratisibutler, directed Reyn to the same drawing room she always used with Khiran for her succubus lessons. He said nothing to indicate a change in plans, so she was taken by surprise when she entered and found out Khiran was not alone.
She froze a few steps into the room. She recognized the man seated across from Khiran, but she didn’t know why he was there. Danten was a pleasant gentleman, with none of the defects of excessive seriousness, pride, or narcissism. Overall, he was exactly the sort Reyn ought to enjoy spending time with, and she did, but she was also a bit bored in his presence. It was easy to be the vivacious young woman he expected her to be.
It didn’t matter that she liked him—even if she found his company a trifle unexciting. Reyn didn’t want him to know about her lure. She had grown up hearing the rumors and prejudice the courtiers in Moial heaped upon Khiran because of his bloodlines. She did not want her own murky heritage to become public knowledge. Especially if flirting was her only skill; to have credit for that talent go to magic she couldn’t control would be too much.
The men both stood. Danten greeted her pleasantly enough, but there was clearly a question in his eyes as he tried to figure out why she was visiting Khiran. At least that meant he didn’t know about her lure already. Reyn just hoped Khiran wasn’t planning to introduce the topic and ask her to practice on Danten. Quite apart from revealing her secret, she doubted it would work. Danten simply didn’t inspire the feelings in her that seemed to precipitate her lure.
“Lisca is running late,” Khiran said to Reyn at the end of his own greeting. “She shouldn’t be too much longer. Make yourself comfortable.”
Reyn sat in the wingback chair closest to her, trying not to let her relief show. Khiran wasn’t planning on outing her. She should have known better than to suspect such a thing for even a moment. Even if he wanted her to practice on someone else, he’d ask her permission before approaching them.
Khiran and Danten both settled back onto the seats they had occupied before Reyn arrived. After a moment’s silence, Danten turned to her. “How are you enjoying Tryn, Lady Reyn? Are we interesting enough to keep you entertained here?”
“Certainly.” Reyn gave him the pleasant smile she thought of as her neutral expression when socializing. “There are so many entertainments hosted every day, I hardly know how to choose between them.”
“What has been your favorite so far?”
“The opera,” Reyn answered without hesitation. Forget her worries about accomplishing nothing because of the way she spent her days, Reyn would gladly do nothing but watch performances at the opera for the rest of her life. Maybe she should become an opera singer. Reyn suppressed a chuckle; it would horrify her mother to hear Reyn even joke about such a thing.
Becoming an opera singer was not an option for adding meaning to Reyn’s life, not really. She thought she might actually sing well enough to succeed, but she also knew herself well enough to accept that she would miss the comforts of her current life. Reyn wanted to feel her life had a purpose of some sort, but she did not particularly want to abandon all luxuries in her pursuit of that goal.
And opera singers living in luxury got there through other means than singing. Reyn had no interest in earning a plush lifestyle by becoming some rich man’s mistress, either. If she was willing to settle for that sort of life, she’d let her mother marry her off instead.
Danten clearly did not share her enjoyment of the opera. He shuddered at her response. “Of all the ways to spend your time in Tryn, you would choose listening to that caterwauling?”
