Page 20 of The House of the Red Balconies

Zo laughed. “Probably. But Mistress Aula seems to agree, and she is in charge.”

“She wasn’t there last night,” Hylas recalled.

“She’s in mourning. The landlord died.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry.”

“He was old, and ill for a long time. It was expected. And no one liked him very much. Not even Mistress. If she had, perhaps she’d have put the whole house in mourning and closed for the day—I think that would be traditional.” Zo shrugged. “But we can’t exactly afford that.”

“Still, she’s mourning personally … ”

“The landlord was her patron, ten years ago or more, when she was a companion at the Peacock.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“He bought the Red Balconies when it was in danger of being shut down—a couple of years before I came—and set her up as mistress. He’s left it to her in his will. She’s the landlady now.”

“That’s … That must be … ” Hylas couldn’t think what to say. It didn’t sound good.

Zo spared him the trouble. “Nobody’s happy about it. Especially not her. Apparently she was expecting a gift of money, or a property where she could retire and live in luxury, and the Red Balconies is very much not that.”

“Oh dear. She couldn’t sell it?”

“Not for the kind of money she wants, evidently. I’m getting this all second-hand from Theano, who’s the only one of the women she really talks to.”

Hylas wondered fleetingly what an establishment like the Red Balconies would sell for. He’d been considering his own finances the night before, and it had left him feeling rather rich. But that was only when he thought in terms of how many nights of incense he could afford to burn; he didn’t have buying-the-whole-house money. Which reminded him that he still needed to speak to Governor Loukianos about his salary. The month’s end had come and gone without any sign of a second payment.

“Anyway,” said Zo, waving a hand dismissively, “it’s too early to say what it will mean for all of us companions. There’s no sense worrying about it yet.”

Hylas nodded. “That’s wise.”

“So how is the aqueduct coming?”

Hylas groaned. “Don’t mention the aqueduct. No, I mean, of course you may mention it—naturally you want to know about it, as it’s my whole reason for being here. It’s just that I’m beginning to worry it’s never going to be built. We’re currently waiting on someone’s mistress convincing the Gylphians, or maybe the Sasians, to let us take water from the big island.”

Zo smiled wryly. “Sounds very Tykanos.”

“So I’m learning. Anyway, it does mean I have time to work in your garden today, if you’d like me to press on with the wall.”

“I’d love that. It’s the perfect weather for it. Warm sun, cool breeze.”

“Yes.”

They drank tea in silence for a few minutes. Hylas found himself looking up at Zo, at the sharp line of his jaw, the way his long hair fell over his shoulder.

“You sing and you play the flute,” Hylas said thoughtfully. “What other talents do you have that I don’t know about yet?”

Zo shrugged. “Just making conversation, I suppose. Gardening. Making myself look pretty.” He rearranged the folds of his robe and smiled sidelong down at Hylas. “Up until I was seventeen, I had the same kind of education as most of the tea-house women. You know, poetry and music and how to look good in clothes. Mind you, most of the girls know how to weave and spin and sew too—I wish I’d learned anything so useful. I wish I’d spent time learning something like that instead of horse-riding, which I was never good at. You’re trying to picture me on a horse now.”

“I’m—I’m succeeding. You would look very well on a horse. But I don’t think you would be comfortable. It must be hard on the joints, even for a good rider.”

“Well, I was never that. What we all feel the lack of here is new books. They’re expensive and hard to get on the island. And then our guests talk about things we haven’t read, and it makes us feel unsophisticated. There’s some new thing in Pheme that everyone is reading now, apparently—The Bronze Dolphin—and none of us had heard of it, but it’s supposed to be really good. Apparently they have a copy at the Amber Lily, but it’s no good asking them to lend it to us because—I’m sorry, this is extremely boring.”

“No! I was just thinking that the governor is always asking if I want anything from Pheme, and that I could ask for some books.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Zo looked almost alarmed.

“Oh, I—I know, I didn’t think you were hinting that I should, or … I just thought it might be an idea.”