And Haught, returning home after delivering one message in person-discovered a
rose thrust through the doorhandle, and blanched.
He gathered it up; and thrust it into his bosom as unwillingly as if it had been
a snake.
“I do trust,” Ischade said when he had come inside, “you’ll be more kind in
future. Stilcho’s not yours.”
“Yes,” Haught said fervently.
“You think I’m indolent.”
“No, Mistress.”
“How Nisi, to be in a hurry. How Nisi to be so punctiliously, superciliously
careful of my affairs. Sometimes I’d forgotten that. But you do justly chide me
for my nature.”
“I only tried to care for things-“
“Haught, Haught, Haught. Spare me. You think you’ve become indispensable. Or
rather-you hope to become so.” Ischade kicked aside a cloak of fine rose silk.
“Few things are.”
“Mistress-“
“You fear I don’t care for details. Well, you may be right, Haught. I accept
your judgment. And your warning. And I want you to take care of a matter for me.
Yourself. Since you’ve become so skilled.”
“What-matter?”
She smiled and came and touched the rose he wore. “Take care of Roxane. Keep her
out of my way.”
Haught’s eyes went white, all round.
“Oh, you’ll have Stilcho’s help,” Ischade said. “And Roxane’s hardly what she
was. Niko’s seen to that. She might well make a try for him, but then, you have
Janni. And Stilcho. Don’t you? I’m sure I can trust you with it.”
Another bird fluttered into the open window, and took its perch on a chair back.
This one came from uptown. It had a spelled ring about its inky leg, and it
whetted a chisel-keen beak against steelshod claws. Regarded them both with a