Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

my heritage.” Rosanda began to rub at some invisible spot on her palm. “Molin

has forsaken it all. Ranke means nothing to him. He schemes with the Beysib

fish-folk. He turns away from our gods and our customs.” She threw up her hands

suddenly in frustration, and there was a moistness in her eye. “I just couldn’t

stay with him anymore. I still retain my lands and my titles. But I needed to

get away from the Palace and all its intrigues for awhile. You and Lowan Vigeles

are the only relatives I have in this city, so I came here.” She leaned down and

placed a gentle hand on Chenaya’s hair, smoothing it on the pillows. “You and

your father are the best of Rankan society, of all that we hold ideal. I needed

a little of what you have to remind me who I am.”

It was Chenaya’s turn to flush. Perhaps she should have taken time long ago to

get to know her aunt. The old woman might seem air-headed, but there was a

kindness in her that was endearing. “Thank you. Lady,” Chenaya said simply.

Then, she decided to trust Ro-sanda. “I asked Father to find a way to keep you

here a while …”

Rosanda put on a faint, patient smile. “So I wouldn’t talk about Daphne?”

That startled Chenaya. Her aunt was perceptive, too. More and more about Rosanda

surprised her.

“You needn’t worry about that,” her aunt promised. “But the palace walls are

going to shake when word gets out. Are you planning to take her to the Festival

of the Winter Bey?”

Chenaya picked up the orange, peeled it, and took a juicy bite. “Festival?” she

said with barely contained interest. An amusing idea began to form in her head.