Page 63 of The House of the Red Balconies

“Er, no—she found out because they told her, I think, after they surprised her with the frescoes. Oh! I get it. You want to tell her yourself, at the right moment.”

“Something like that,” said Zo.

He went up to Mistress Aula’s room after Chrestos left. She looked surprised to see him when she opened her door. She had a bowl of tea in her hand.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, come in.” She held the door open.

He came inside, and they sat on the divan. The doors were open onto her balcony on the front of the house.

“That smells good,” he said, indicating the tea. “Is it a new blend?”

“Yes, just something I’m trying out. Chamomile flowers, lavender buds, and a hint of cinnamon.” She hesitated. “Here, have a taste and tell me what you think. I don’t have another bowl.” She passed him the one she was holding.

He took it and sipped. “Mmm. It’s nice. Subtle.”

“It’s quite wholesome and doesn’t keep you awake. I thought we could serve it in the evenings.” She took the bowl back from him. “Well, what is it?”

“I’m sorry that I lost my temper with you yesterday.”

“No, you’re not,” she said sourly. “You think I’m a harpy for not believing you’re really ill. Theano’s already come and set me straight about it, all right? I understand. I’m in the wrong. Just because you’re not sick all the time doesn’t mean it’s an act.”

Zo decided not to respond to that. He repeated himself calmly: “I’m sorry for losing my temper because I realize now that you weren’t actually threatening me. You were just asking how we could make something of my being a prince. For the good of the house.”

She looked at him and drew a breath as if about to speak, then closed her mouth. After a moment she opened it again: “I … I suppose I was thinking of telling everyone who you are, and I suppose if you have enemies … that might not be safe.”

He made a rueful face. “That’s the problem.”

After a moment she said, “I understand why that made you angry. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do want to help the house, though. Like the others. We all want the Red Balconies to thrive. I was thinking, if you wanted to throw out hints … ”

“How do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. Tell one man one thing, another something else—make it all sound like secrets they must swear to keep … I don’t mind cultivating a bit of mystique.”

She looked thoughtful. “That could work. It might even be better than trying to tell everyone your whole story. It is a little far-fetched, after all.”

“Exactly. Sometimes I’m not sure I believe it myself.”

She laughed shortly. “That’s very fair of you. I realize I haven’t always been fair.”

“Neither have I.”

“I suppose you have your pride to consider. Being—well, a prince, and all that. On the subject of a patron … ”

“I am working on that,” he said automatically. “But … ”

“Have you considered the aqueduct man?” she said before he could finish his thought.

“Have I … what?”

She went on quickly, as if this was something she’d given thought to: “I know the two of you are friends. And he certainly seems to pay attention to you in the evenings—if he’d been any other guest, I’d have said he was smitten, but he’s awfully hard to read. Though you’ll know better than I do.

“I just thought, if we could get him—you know, he’s got quite a name on the island already. Everybody knows him, he’s a friend of the governor’s, chaperoned Mutari from the Peacock on a trip to Tetum, which means he’s one of your sort, or the quartermaster would never have allowed that. It’s good to have him as a tenant, but having him as a patron would be better.”