The Traitor's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

expensive Sishmindris had fallen off dramatically.
    At the end of Summit Street rose Belandor House, proud and immaculate, at some fastidious remove from its closest neighbors. The great mansion, having passed through the wars unscathed, appeared unchanged in all aspects but one. A high wall of comparatively recent construction girdled the property. The wall was built of stone and surmounted by a gilded tangle of gracefully intertwining but wickedly spiked steel branches. Before the gilded gate of elaborately wrought iron stood a brace of armed human retainers whose presence had not deterred some anonymous well-wisher from pelting the wall with fresh feces. Brown smears darkened the pale stone, and the stink flooded the magnifico’s nostrils. Aureste frowned. His servants, remiss in their vigilance, would know of his displeasure.
    The gate opened and the carriage passed through, delivering the magnifico to his front door. The bodyguards retired, and Aureste walked in alone. At once a Sishmindri sashed in the slate grey and silver of House Belandor hurried forward to take his cloak and gloves. He eyed the creature narrowly; an unthinking, almost unconscious reaction, recently developed. As usual, the bulging golden eyes revealed nothing at all. He relinquished his outer garments.
    Beneath the cloak, a fur-trimmed robe clothed a tall form still lean and agile, despite his fifty years. Up the curving marble stairway he went, along a corridor bright with gilt and crystal to his study, lined with books that he had actually read in the distant past. Taking his seat at the ornate but thoroughly functional desk that occupied the center of the room, he busied himself with the latest household accounts, and for a while the numbers held his attention. From time to time, however, his eyes strayed from the ledger to the tall clock standing in the corner.
    The knock at the study door came well before the appointed hour. All to the good; he was eager for news.
    “Come,” he said.
    The door opened, and Aureste’s brows rose at the unexpected sight of his daughter, Jianna, and his youngest brother, Nalio, on the threshold. Jianna was flushed and scowling. Nalio’s meager figure was rigidly upright, his lips primly pursed. They had obviously been quarreling again.
    “Yes?” Aureste suppressed a sigh.
    They stepped into the room, and Nalio shut the door. Jianna commenced without preamble. “Father, tell him to stop trying to order me around!”
    “I issued no orders,” Nalio returned. “I merely sought to instruct her.”
    “I have tutors for that,” Jianna returned. “And yes, you did try to order me. What do you call it when you tell me where I can or cannot go? I’m an adult now and you haven’t the right.”
    “As your elder and your kinsman, I have every right—indeed, every obligation—to offer advice when I see you in danger of compromising your reputation and even your safety.”
    “What’s this?” demanded Aureste.
    “Nothing worth listening to, Father,” Jianna assured him. “Just more of Uncle Nalio’s endless grumbling.”
    “I will not tolerate such discourtesy, such—such—such impertinence. ” Nalio’s narrow face colored.
    “Then don’t provoke me.” Jianna tossed her head.
    “I will be addressed with respect—”
    “When you deserve it!” she concluded with an impudent smile.
    “Brother!” Nalio appealed.
    “Jianna,” Aureste reproved, suppressing a smile of his own. Perhaps she had overstepped her bounds, but it was hard to fault her contempt for Nalio’s petty priggery. Moreover he was proud of his daughter’s high spirits, which she had certainly never inherited from her limp dishrag of a mother. Her courage and strong will had come straight from him.
    “Well, he acts as if he thinks he’s the magnifico, when he’s only—”
    “Jianna,” Aureste repeated with a hint of sternness, and she subsided at once. Addressing his brother, he inquired, “What is your