Lupi 04 - Night Season

home, only with shorter legs and painted bright blue. Four fat floor cushions surrounded it. Between the table and one end of the bench was a cupboard painted green and yellow and black.
    A short, dark-haired woman stood in front of the cupboard. Her name was Adrienne. She wore a knee-length yellow dress with gray trousers and a long gray vest; her hair was long and braided. She was about fifty years old and she was human—she’d told Cynna that when she’d announced she was Cynna’s maid. She’d shown Cynna how to control the mage lights drifting around the ceiling with a couple words in the Common Tongue, repeated what Cynna had been told about the location of the common rooms, explained that the baths were underground—where she seemed to think she was going to wash Cynna personally.
    Not going to happen. But a shampoo would be nice.
    At the moment Adrienne was holding up a dress she’d taken from the cupboard. It was long, shiny, and dizzyingly bright—green and pink and gold playing tag all over a lipstick red background.
    It made Cynna’s head hurt. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    â€œDalnee horra fall nutty sieve matta play, noresh,” the woman said. Or something like that. The charm whispered to Cynna, “This would be appropriate for meeting with the Council, madam.”
    â€œCan’t you get me some pants? Something…plainer. Like what I’m wearing, only clean.”
    Adrienne looked pained and launched into a long explanation about colors and caste and stuff. Cynna tried to pay attention, but her mind wasn’t cooperating.
    He hadn’t known. That’s what she kept thinking, over and over. He hadn’t known.
    Daniel Weaver had escorted them to their rooms, chatting amiably all the while about the problems with applying what he knew of science and engineering (“Not much,” he’d said cheerfully, “but I was ever a history buff, and the older things work better here.”) to innovations useful in Edge. Cynna hadn’t really listened. She’d been thinking about that elf-woman and the way she’d put her hands on Cullen. Cynna had wanted to toss that frail, lovely body somewhere. Just pick her up and throw her.
    That wasn’t the reaction of a friend. Jealousy was stupid and pointless. It hurt. And it wouldn’t go away.
    Fortunately, the elf-woman had. After planting a kiss on Cullen’s mouth, she’d murmured something too low for Cynna to hear and drifted off as absently as she’d arrived without speaking to any of the rest of them.
    None of whom seemed to have noticed Cynna’s reaction. Please, God, don’t let Cullen have noticed. That’s what she was thinking when her father followed her into her room. He’d asked about her mother, all excited and happy. Had Mary waited long before remarrying? Did Cynna get along with her stepfather, whoever that might be? Had Mary ever gone back to school the way she wanted to?
    He’d been so eager, the questions tumbling out as if pent up all these years. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, catching himself with a laugh. “I want to hear about you, too, my beautiful daughter…but Mary? She’s well?”
    So Cynna had told him. She had to, didn’t she? His Mary had been dead for nearly twenty years…even longer in some ways, because Cynna didn’t recognize her mom at all in the Mary he spoke of. She didn’t tell him that. What good would it do? He didn’t need to know the woman whose memory he’d cherished all these years had died as she’d lived. Drunk.
    Had she just blurted it out, though? She’d wanted to be gentle. She’d tried, but he’d been so happy, and he’d left with his eyes wet and shocked…
    â€œYou will wear this, then, madam?” the charm whispered at Cynna.
    She jerked her attention back to the matter at hand. Clothes. Really ugly clothes. “No, I won’t.” Someone scratched at the door. She turned away in relief. “Come in.”
    Cullen breezed in. “Ruben wants to…ah, what’s that?”
    He was looking at the red monstrosity in Adrienne’s hand. “The dress they think I should wear. Not going to happen. Ah—Cullen, this is Adrienne. Adrienne, Cullen Seabourne.”
    He was revved, not relaxed, not wearing the look of a man who’s just had a quickie with… Shut up , she told herself