"You," he said softly. "Is there somewhere else you could be right now?"
Alaire bristled at the attitude, but restrained himself. They should treat me like this. I am a foolish assistant, nothing more. A hanger-on. "Why, yes, as a matter of fact. Could you show me P Kainemonen's chambers?"
The elder servant's eyebrows lifted ever so subtly.
"Why would anyone want to see him? Particularly at this hour. It's daylight, after all."
Alaire thought he did a credible job of looking stu- pid. "Why? I wanted to thank him, in person, for showing me such an entertaining evening. Is he not receiving today?"
"That is not the point," Paavo sniffed. "He's always receiving, but nobody wants to see him." He sighed, apparently resigned to the task. "Come this way. If you want to waste your time with that drunken child, you are more than welcome. At least you'll be out of my way."
An odd way to talk about his Crown Prince. As if he didn't matter. As if -- he never will take the throne....
While Paavo led him down another hallway, this one painted on both sides with primitive woodland scenes, Alaire wondered why even a mere servant in this castle would treat the Prince with such con -- even if he was a drunk. Alaire had known a few ser- vants back at home who had such familiarity with the royal family, but they were never as presumptuous as this man.
Take notes. File away for later. We configure Paavo out some other time.
He'd expected a more regal setting for the Prince, but the door they stopped at was no more suggestive of royalty than his own front door in Fenrich.
Paavo waved at the door with an air of one who has done more than his duty. "You may let yourself in. I have other, more important things to do today."
With that Paavo turned and walked swiftly away, leaving behind a palpable cloud of petulance.
Shrugging, Alaire opened the door, and strode into a darkened room unannounced. The room had no windows, or wind hole, and reeked of (what else) stale wine and ale. It was now high noon, and Kai had evi- dently decided to sleep in, under cover of artificial darkness.
"Kai?" Alaire ventured, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. "Its Alaire. Are you awake?"
Silly question, he thought, closing the door behind him. He did this reluctantly, because there was no other source of light. But he needed privacy to discuss the things he wanted to, and an open door would only attract idle ears, possibly Paavo's. The room, he discov- ered, had windows after all, but something solid and black was covering them. Thin lines of light made an outline, giving him enough light to avoid bumping into the larger pieces of furniture.
He became aware of a large canopied bed shoved into a corner of the room at an odd angle. Heavy vel- vet curtains cut off his view. Presumably, it was even darker in the bed than in the rest of the room.
From the bed he heard a muffled grunt, then a more articulated "unngh" as somebody stirred inside.
Alaire stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, wondering if he would even be visible, wearing his black outfit. Then it occurred to him that Kai might not be alone. After a moment, though, he dismissed the idea, remembering the unconscious condition he'd left Kai in.
There was a table against the wall, with something on it that might be a lantern. When Alaire felt his way over there, he discovered that it was a lantern, with the shutters pulled; one that was still burning dimly.
He turned it up. It didn't help much, but now he could see something more than mere outlines.
The bed-curtains quivered slightly as someone pushed them aside a crack, revealing half a face and a bleary, bloodshot eye.
"Unnnngh. Alaire. What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"
Alaire turned with the lantern in his hand Kai winced away from the light. "This ungodly hour hap- pens to be noon," he pointed out. "Do you plan on sleeping the day away?"
The curtains shut, but Kai kept moving around, from the sounds within. "That's precisely what I had in mind."
Alaire ignored him, and began searching the area around the windows for a means to open them.