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Authors: Mercedes Lackey
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phrases, that anyone that got between her and the wedding planning was going to find him- or herself cut off at the knees. Having Lady Dia doing the planning meant that Violetta was going to find herself doing a
lot
of work, and the sort of thing she seemed to be very good at. If the wedding came off well, Violettaâs reputation as a clever planner of festivities might even eclipse her reputation as the featherbrained wench whose romantic foolishness had nearly got two entire noble Houses murdered.
And hopefully she wonât make any further mistakes; even trivial ones are always going to eclipse your successes,
she reflected ruefully.
Though . . . in the end, what could have been a complete disaster turned into the end of a bloody feud. I cannot say that I will miss Lord Kaltar, and I suspect neither does his Lady. Anyone that bloodthirsty was probably terrifying to be around. Thereâs probably a good reason why he and Lady Kaltar only ever had a single child.
Well, between standing all day, and Magsâ brilliant idea to just
run off and get married
 . . . well, maybe another reason why she was aching all over was that she was finally relaxing muscles she hadnât even known were tense.
Today there were no Council meetings, and no Court sessions, which meant that Amily was basically free. And she knew exactly what she was going to do.
This would be a good day to do a little snooping in the households of some of the Council members by way of the working cats and pets they had in their homes. A good manyof them had one or more of Lady Diaâs little spaniels; they all had cats kept specifically for mousing. No well-regulated household could do without at least one cat in the kitchen, pantry and cellars, and at least one to patrol the upstairs. Most had more. And thanks to Amilyâs peculiar Gift, every single one of those animals could serve as eyes and ears for her.
So today would be a day when she could laze by the fire and see what she could learn.
Sometimes it bothered her, all this spying on people she should have been able to trust. But that was the thing, really, she
should
have been able to trust them, but they were still people, and people got their judgment swayed by personal considerations or ambitions, or things she couldnât even predict.
And if Father had this as a resource, heâd have used it without a second thought.
The apple had not fallen far from the tree after all. She might be Kingâs Own, but like her father, she was also the Kingâs Spy.
I wish I had a troupe of spies of my own, the way that Father and Mags do,
she thought, turning over and punching the pillow again.
Someone who could make
sure
I had little dogs I could listen through in every household where I might need one. Someone who was trusted, but invisible. Someone who. . . .
And that was when she had what
possibly
was a brilliant idea all her very own. So brilliant, that she sat straight up in bed, all thoughts of sleep vanishing.
There was one thing that Amily had been able to do very, very, well, back in the days when she could not move about without help. She could
observe.
And one of the things she had observed, forgotten until now, was the plight of young, highborn women with a title and no money.
Mostly, they were hangers-on in the entourages of wealthier relativesâhoping for a crumb of a dower in some cases, in others hoping to prove they had some form of talent so theycould get the Crown to sponsor them to the Collegia. Often they served as unpaid governesses or companions. She had heard whispered stories of exceptionally pretty ones who had blatantly become kept mistressesâor had even become the star attractions of a brothel.
But mostly, they languished in the households of those who were wealthier than they were, grateful for a bed and regular meals, trained in all the skills a highborn girl was supposed to have, but not in anything that made her fit
lot
of work, and the sort of thing she seemed to be very good at. If the wedding came off well, Violettaâs reputation as a clever planner of festivities might even eclipse her reputation as the featherbrained wench whose romantic foolishness had nearly got two entire noble Houses murdered.
And hopefully she wonât make any further mistakes; even trivial ones are always going to eclipse your successes,
she reflected ruefully.
Though . . . in the end, what could have been a complete disaster turned into the end of a bloody feud. I cannot say that I will miss Lord Kaltar, and I suspect neither does his Lady. Anyone that bloodthirsty was probably terrifying to be around. Thereâs probably a good reason why he and Lady Kaltar only ever had a single child.
Well, between standing all day, and Magsâ brilliant idea to just
run off and get married
 . . . well, maybe another reason why she was aching all over was that she was finally relaxing muscles she hadnât even known were tense.
Today there were no Council meetings, and no Court sessions, which meant that Amily was basically free. And she knew exactly what she was going to do.
This would be a good day to do a little snooping in the households of some of the Council members by way of the working cats and pets they had in their homes. A good manyof them had one or more of Lady Diaâs little spaniels; they all had cats kept specifically for mousing. No well-regulated household could do without at least one cat in the kitchen, pantry and cellars, and at least one to patrol the upstairs. Most had more. And thanks to Amilyâs peculiar Gift, every single one of those animals could serve as eyes and ears for her.
So today would be a day when she could laze by the fire and see what she could learn.
Sometimes it bothered her, all this spying on people she should have been able to trust. But that was the thing, really, she
should
have been able to trust them, but they were still people, and people got their judgment swayed by personal considerations or ambitions, or things she couldnât even predict.
And if Father had this as a resource, heâd have used it without a second thought.
The apple had not fallen far from the tree after all. She might be Kingâs Own, but like her father, she was also the Kingâs Spy.
I wish I had a troupe of spies of my own, the way that Father and Mags do,
she thought, turning over and punching the pillow again.
Someone who could make
sure
I had little dogs I could listen through in every household where I might need one. Someone who was trusted, but invisible. Someone who. . . .
And that was when she had what
possibly
was a brilliant idea all her very own. So brilliant, that she sat straight up in bed, all thoughts of sleep vanishing.
There was one thing that Amily had been able to do very, very, well, back in the days when she could not move about without help. She could
observe.
And one of the things she had observed, forgotten until now, was the plight of young, highborn women with a title and no money.
Mostly, they were hangers-on in the entourages of wealthier relativesâhoping for a crumb of a dower in some cases, in others hoping to prove they had some form of talent so theycould get the Crown to sponsor them to the Collegia. Often they served as unpaid governesses or companions. She had heard whispered stories of exceptionally pretty ones who had blatantly become kept mistressesâor had even become the star attractions of a brothel.
But mostly, they languished in the households of those who were wealthier than they were, grateful for a bed and regular meals, trained in all the skills a highborn girl was supposed to have, but not in anything that made her fit
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