Eirual shook her head as if repelling sadness and began decorating her elaborately braided hair with pearl hairpins. “And where is the fair Alec? Still downstairs?”

“No, he’s not well tonight. I’ll be escorting both you lovelies myself, and will be the envy of all who see me.”

“You always are, I suspect.”

Myrhichia hurried in with a white silk girdle embroidered with pearls. “I thought you might want this,” she said, draping it around the older woman’s shapely hips. “What do you think, Seregil?”

“Perfect! The pair of you are a vision of loveliness not to be outdone by all the titled heads of Rhíminee.” Indeed Myrhichia looked as beautiful as her benefactress in midnight-blue silk stitched with crystal beads, and matching hairpins glittering in her dark hair. “You look like the night sky in Bôkthersa, full of stars and mystery,” he told her, kissing her cheek.

“But where is Alec?”

“Indisposed, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, and I was so looking forward to teasing him a bit!”

When the women had completed their adornments to their mutual satisfaction, the three of them strolled arm-in-arm to the Red Hart, glittering among the evening crowd and drawing admiring glances from many they passed. At the elegant tavern the master of the house escorted them to the private room Seregil had reserved for the evening.

Laneus, Malthus, and their ladies soon joined them, and introductions were made all around. Malthus and Ania knew the two courtesans, and greeted them warmly, as did Laneus and his young wife. Eona seemed particularly thrilled to meet the famous Eirual.

They dined on poached butterfly fish, jellied eel, raw oysters, warm sesame bread, dishes of olives and pickled vegetables, and a rare Mycenian white wine of excellent prewar vintage.

The courtesans were charming as always, and Seregil could see Eirual’s tutelage in Myrhichia’s sparkling conversation, and her knowledge of current events and politics. She and Laneus had a spirited debate over the tax on gemstones, and ended the argument with laughter.

Seregil watched the two men with veiled interest; both gave every indication of being delighted to dine with him, and their ladies expressed great concern over Alec’s supposed fever. His wound was remarked upon and Laneus’s shock at the story of how Seregil and Alec had been waylaid by assassins seemed quite genuine, but perhaps not as violent as Malthus’s, who went white to the lips and stole a glance at Laneus as Seregil elaborated.

“By the Light, he might have taken your head off!” Duchess Ania exclaimed.

“If the bluecoats hadn’t come along and chased them off, he probably would have!” Seregil told her. “Of course, all I could think of was Alec, but he was much better at fighting his man off, though he cut his hand quite badly.”