Casket of Souls

murmured. “He’s certainly making inroads with the nobility.”
    “Not only them,” Alec muttered, and to Seregil’s surprise, he sounded piqued.
    He glanced back and realized that the courtesan Atre appeared to be paying homage to was Myrhichia.
    Just then the actor noticed them and waved. Seregil smiled and waved back. Alec didn’t.
    Outside Alec avoided Seregil’s questioning look. Myrhichia could choose whomever she wanted; he wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, except perhaps because he knew Atre.
    “Alec?”
    “That was a good night’s work, wasn’t it?” Alec strode offthrough the crowd of late-night revelers toward the ornate archway that marked the entrance to the Street of Lights.
    “Yes,” said Seregil, catching up and linking his arm through Alec’s. “Kyrin interests me greatly. Why would a roisterer like Reltheus have such a reticent man for a friend?”
    Alec shrugged. “Reltheus seemed to be sounding us out about Klia.”
    “Yes, and clumsily, too. He certainly takes an interest in the royal family.”
    “If he’s really so interested in Klia, I wonder if he sees her as a threat?”
    “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Seregil murmured. “Something has Reltheus’s attention, and Kyrin’s. My guess is that they think all of us on that list are potential members of a rival cabal. And just because we don’t know about it doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
    Atre had designs on Myrhichia from the start, but Alec’s unmistakable look of dismay across the room made it all the more delicious a challenge. Were the young man and the whore more than friends? It seemed unlikely given all he had heard and seen of him with Seregil, but clearly Alec felt some warmth toward her. Why else that sour look as he locked eyes with Atre?
    He made room for himself on the couch beside Myrhichia, took her graceful, bejeweled hand in his and raised it to his lips. Looking up at her through his thick lashes, he murmured, “You are lovelier than silvery moonlight on the face of the sea. Your beauty makes me tremble like a green boy.”
    Rather than blushing, as most women did under the influence of his charm, the girl tapped his arm with her fan and laughed. “And you are as charming as the smitten swain you played the other night, dear man. I think he said something of the sort to lovely Aphinia. You are my favorite actor, and playwright, this season!”
    “It’s women like you who are my inspiration,” Atre purred. “Your wit, your charm, the delicacy of your demeanor.” He raised his wine cup to her and announced to their circle of admirers, “I shall include a beautiful courtesan in my nextproduction. When you see her, know she is but my pale effort at homage to the beautiful Myrhichia.”
    The others clapped and laughed approvingly. Myrhichia gave him a twinkling smile as she pulled a handsome golden pin set with a citrine from her dark hair and presented it to him. “Such gallantry deserves better reward, but perhaps this will do until I view the completed effort.”
    Atre tucked it behind his ear like a flower and kissed her hand again. “You are too kind.”
    The evening went on in that vein, flirtatious and witty, but after a time Atre began to get the distinct impression that she was politely putting him off. The more he continued to woo her, the more she spread her favors among the other young bloods. Atre continued to smile, tamping down his resentment. He’d have had any other woman—noble or whore—upstairs by now. It was becoming a matter of pride.
    At last the others drifted away with their own conquests of the evening. Myrhichia was hiding yawns behind her fan.
    Atre pressed Myrhichia’s hand to his heart and gave her his most ardent look. “You’ve won my heart. Don’t break it so quickly.”
    “Break your heart? Why would I do such a thing, Master Atre?”
    “The hour grows late and I fear you’ll want me to leave you. Please, my shining star, don’t send me away.”
    The woman’s smile faltered at that. “Oh, dear Master Atre …”
    “What’s wrong, lovely one?”
    She took his hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I thought your friends would have told you.”
    A little speck of coldness flared under Atre’s heart, but still he kept up his attentive mask. “Told me what?”
    She paused meaningfully, skillful as any actress. “I’m so flattered by your attentions tonight. You’re such a delightful man. But I don’t—entertain