A Rose Point Holiday Read online

  She’d be married by then. What a strange—and wonderful—thought. Of course, she’d have to survive all the preparations... she smiled to herself and turned, and found her fiancé at the door, as if summoned by her thoughts, and... who knew? Maybe he’d sensed what was going on here and been drawn back. The Queen was keeping him so busy she rarely saw him, but that was all right, because it made the sight of him standing so still, staring at the hall, so much more vivid and precious.

  And that stillness was shock. But a good one, from the warmth in his eyes. She’d made him happy, and when he found her amid the bustle in the hall, he let her see it. Advancing to her and taking her hands in his, he said, “Theresa! I had no idea we would be observing the holiday.”

  Were her fingers tingling? Her fingers were tingling. Was it abstinence that made him just holding her hands so intense? “Felith told us about it, and... well, we are a part-Eldritch House. It seemed the right thing to do.”

  “It’s wonderful,” he said. “But do not tell me you have time for the entire season?”

  “The whole kit and caboodle,” Reese said, knowing in that moment that she was going to do it, and do it right. “The Longest Night Vigil, Lady’s Day, and the New Year’s Feast.”

  “But with so little notice....”

  “We’ve done crazier things.” Reese grinned at him and was delighted when he grinned back.

  “So we have. But this... this is special.” He looked up at the swags of blue velvet lining the walls. “A House is not a home until it has celebrated the Vigil season.”

  All the more reason to do it. “Just make sure Liolesa gives you the day off!”

  He laughed. “I’ll make sure of it.” He kissed her fingers. “I am here accompanying Valthial, if you will believe. He said you asked for him? He’s been waylaid by someone who’d like a decision or three on the chapterhouse, but he is here.”

  “Poor Val,” Reese said. “I should rescue him. Can you stay?”

  “I was planning it. I have been too long away from my betrothed and hoped she might have time for a ride before we return to our respective duties...?”

  Riding with Hirianthial? Blood, yes. Especially if it meant a stolen kiss or two. Wasn’t there some Terran Pagan custom about kisses and greenery? She’d have to get Kis’eh’t to look it up. “I think my appointments can wait a few hours while I discuss Laisrathera’s future with its co-leader.”

  He smiled over her fingers and kissed them again, breath on skin. “Then go you to Valthial, and tell him I asked him not to delay you.”

  Cheeks warm, Reese said, “I won’t give him a choice.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The situation with the Queen’s Tams was more complicated than Reese had realized when she first met Malia and Taylor. She’d assumed that all the Tam-illee hanging around the Eldritch planet were members of the Tams: that part was true, initially at least. But then Lesandurel Meriaen Jisiensire had arrived with his flotilla of foxes and she’d discovered that only the Tam-illee directly employed by Liolesa were considered members of the Queen’s Tams, and while all of the Tams were members of Lesandurel’s extended, adopted family, not all his adoptees were Tams. The ones who’d been cleared to run the courier ships to and from the Eldritch homeworld actually constituted a very small number of the percentage that Lesandurel had put to work in all the enterprises he’d accidentally accrued while keeping himself busy over the centuries off-world.

  “Because,” Taylor had said when explaining why she was free to take a contract with Reese, “he’s not the sort of man to be idle.”

  So while a large number of those Tam-illee remained fiercely loyal to Lesandurel and were planning to go wherever he went, some of them had been attracted to the challenge of building a modern settlement on a pristine planet and shown up on Reese’s doorstep asking for work. A lot of them wanted to become residents, because it was exciting to design and build infrastructure, and maintaining it once it was in place was far more satisfying than dealing with someone else’s work. And really, given how much there was to do, Reese didn’t think they’d run out of new things to build anytime soon.

  That was how Taylor came to be permanently detached to Laisrathera. She’d resigned from the Queen’s Tams to take on the work in Firilith, and her extended clan—all previously in Lesandurel’s employ, but not in Liolesa’s—had come with her. Since they were enthusiastic, intelligent, hardworking people, Reese welcomed them with open arms and land grants, once she was sure she could give land grants, and since then Taylor had taken up residence in Rose Point in the new Office of Development. It was a rare day they weren’t in one another’s offices at least twice.

  This time, Reese was heading to find her, and passing through the great hall she found the firebowl was working. That was the only word she had for it, because as she drew nearer she could see that there was a fire in it, could feel the heat of it drying her skin, but she had no idea how it was on fire. From all appearances, it was full of liquid. That had a skin of flame on it, pure and clear and strangely silent.

  She had no idea how long she’d been staring at it, but it had mesmerized her completely because when Kis’eh’t said, “Do you like it?” she jumped.

  “I do,” Reese said. “But... what... how does it work?”

  Surveying it with satisfaction, Kis’eh’t said, “Science.”

  Reese eyed her. When nothing else was forthcoming, she said, “All right, fine. Just as long as science doesn’t set the castle on fire or blow something up.”

  The Glaseah chuckled. “It won’t.”

  “Good. Because if it does explode, it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  Folding her arms, Kis’eh’t said, “What paycheck?”

  “The one you’re going to get when we’re making enough money to pay people.”

  “This sounds familiar,” the Glaseah said, shaking her head.

  Reese managed a wan grin. “I am almost completely sure this time is different.”

  “You mean there’s some doubt?” Kis’eh’t eyed her, thoughtful.

  “There’s a lot going on,” Reese said. “Starting a town from scratch... it’s... expensive. The Queen’s helping, but I can’t help this itch between my shoulders, you know? I want us to turn a profit as soon as we can.”

  “Mmm,” Kis’eh’t said, frowning. “Well. Better to be too worried about that than to end up in debt again.”

  “Particularly since I think I’ve used up all the queens who might bail me out. That I know of, anyway.”

  Kis’eh’t laughed. “Well, don’t worry about the firebowl detonating. It’s good science. I would know. Where are you off to?”

  “Taylor’s, to talk about the town renovations.”

  “Town renovations! Sounds interesting. I’ll come. I had to talk to her anyway about prioritization of the gem grid supply.” At Reese’s fierce look, the Glaseah lifted her hands. “You get to go first, I promise!”

  “Good,” Reese said. “Then you can come.”

  Kis’eh’t nodded. And added, “Reese? You’re not moving.”

  Shaking herself, Reese said ruefully, “The fire is really pretty.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Kis’eh’t said, pleased. “Science!”

  “So how many people are we talking about?” Taylor asked as Kis’eh’t studied the solidigraphic model of the entire province of Firilith with interest.

  “I don’t know. That’s what I sent Val and Belinor to find out.” Reese tapped her fingers nervously on the table near the edge of the model. “It can’t be too many or we’d have noticed from the satellite imagery.”

  “And you want to… do what, exactly?”

  “I want my town,” Reese said, trying not to find the words ‘my town’ absurd, “to be a real town, Taylor. Eventually a town to rival anything you’d find on a Core planet.”

  Taylor looked up at her, eyes wide.

  “I said that out loud, didn’t I,” Reese muttered.

  “You did. Did you
mean it?”

  Did she? She hadn’t even considered it before it had come out of her mouth. But having said it, the thought of Laisrathera becoming a hub for commerce and culture and… Blood, should she even suggest tourism? She had no idea how closed Liolesa wanted the world to stay, so there would probably be a throttle on some of that. And it was probably insolent to want her town to be nicer than the capital…! But the capital was already built out, and someone had designed it for horses and stone buildings and lamps that had to be lit by hand. The crumbling remains of the little settlement that crouched near Rose Point could be renovated and expanded a lot more easily than the capital. So why not?

  “Let’s start with the basics,” Reese said finally. “Which is that they should eventually have working showers and heaters, when they’re ready to ask for them.”

  “One thing at a time,” Taylor said with a nod, but there was a light in her eyes that boded well for the future. “So you want some of this done next week?”

  “I want a plan for the necessary infrastructure, anyway. We can’t go in there swinging until we get a feel for what the people there want and need.” Reese stopped as the door to Taylor’s office filled with fur and robes. “And here are the people who can tell you the size of the project. Some of them, at least. Irine, Sascha, what are you doing here?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Irine said. “I’m just following Sascha because I haven’t seen him in far too long.”

  “You saw him this morning,” Kis’eh’t said dryly from her corner.

  “Like I said!”

  Sascha grinned. “I ran into Val and Belinor at the stables...”

  “Where, mind you, he was planning to leave,” Val said. “Following your betrothed, Lady Eddings, who was on his way back to Ontine.”

  “But I heard what they were up to,” Sascha finished, “and asked Hirianthial if he minded me staying and maybe running a quick aerial survey. Something a little closer than a satellite could get.”

  “Did they see you?” Reese asked, appalled. She could only imagine what the natives would think if their first encounter with their new foreign lady was a sparrow flashing by overhead, flaunting its offworld tech with flashing wings and the hum of its engines.

  Sascha snorted. “What do you take me for, Boss? Of course they didn’t.”

  “But you did get pictures?” Taylor asked. “I could use pictures.”

  “I did, yeah. It’s... interesting.”

  “Oh, I don’t like that word.” Reese sighed. “All right, hit me.”

  “You have twenty-eight residents, Lady,” Belinor said, serious as always. “God and Lady be praised. One is a youth still in a boy’s coif, which is a true blessing. You have a fertile populace.”

  “Twenty... eight?” Reese repeated.

  Taylor glanced at her, then cleared her throat and said heartily, “So the good news is that we can renovate houses for twenty-eight people pretty quickly!”

  “Oh, they don’t live in separate houses!” Belinor said. “Those twenty-eight people belong to four families.”

  “So three houses,” Val said. “Because the priestess lives in the church with her family.”

  “The church is in excellent condition,” Belinor added. “You will be able to take your mass there quite comfortably, Lady.”

  “Did you say twenty-eight people?” Irine asked, one ear sagging.

  “Twenty-eight is more than I was expecting,” Kis’eh’t said. “I’m impressed.”

  “Three houses and... whatever it is that’s attached to the church,” Reese said to Taylor. “Actually, just count the whole church, I’m sure we don’t want to sit in there without climate control, come summer. What can you work up in a week?”

  Taylor grinned. “What can’t I do in a week!”

  “That sounds like I can leave you to it, then,” Reese said.

  “Excellent,” Val said. “Because if that can be done without your oversight, I’d like to have a word with you. If I may have your ear, Lady Eddings?”

  “Sure,” Reese said. “Fuzzies, help Taylor if she needs it. You too, Kis’eh’t.”

  Puzzled, Belinor murmured, “Why is Kis’eh’t not also considered a fuzzy? That refers to fur, yes? She has fur?”

  “We’re fuzzier than Kis’eh’t,” Irine said.

  “They’re softer in the head,” Kis’eh’t said, placid.

  Reese grinned and left them to explain that colloquialism to the young priest. She wasn’t entirely happy about the size of her settlement, but Kis’eh’t was right... it could have been much worse. And overhauling four houses was a far more tractable project than overhauling forty. Assuming she could start on that renovation immediately. Either way, she was confident she could leave that in Taylor’s hands while she researched presents for the Vigil.

  But first, she had to deal with whatever new bomb Val was planning to drop on her head. As the priest joined her outside Taylor’s office, she leaned against the wall, one hand on her hip. “’If you may have my ear’? Don’t tell me you’re getting contaminated with proper Eldritch formalities.”

  “I’ve been in too many meetings and it’s all your fault. Lady.”

  Reese snorted, amused. “I doubt it. You got yourself elected High Priest all on your own.”

  “Woe! I’ll have to go back to blaming myself for it, since you won’t conveniently shoulder the blame for me.” He grinned, which was good... if he could be teased, he hadn’t changed too much. She couldn’t help worrying that they would lose the irreverent young firebrand who’d been through so much with them. But even though he’d let Liolesa put the Lord’s red stole over his shoulders, he still insisted on wearing pants instead of a robe, had committed to his short hair by trimming it up at his chin, and was apparently still willing to banter with aliens.

  Usually. His eyes had turned serious.

  “What is it, then?”

  “I hear you’ve decided to celebrate the holiday? Did anyone explain the Longest Night Vigil to you?”

  “Felith told us what’s expected,” Reese said, hesitant. “You... are about to tell me that she left things out.”

  “Unavoidably, as she’s a woman.” Val smiled crookedly. “It’s nothing to be wary of, I promise. But there’s a cultural context you might appreciate understanding. She’s told you that a week after is Lady’s Day, I’m sure?” At Reese’s nod, he continued, “That’s because the Longest Night is considered the Lord’s rite. And while Lady’s Day is a celebration of gifts and blessings, it’s understood that those gifts and blessings are available because of the sacrifice made by the Lord.”

  “Oh,” Reese said, quieter. “Because of the basilisks the men used to kill on that night.”

  “Exactly. The Vigil is sacred to us, as men, and as priests. You won’t see any priest until the following day, because we keep the entire vigil, from sundown to sun-up. Don’t be surprised when Hirianthial returns but Belinor and Urise and I don’t.”

  “Right,” Reese said. “I’m guessing you do something closer to the original rites in private.”

  “We honor the bloodshed that has kept the planet safe since we landed,” Val said, sober, and evoked with that image a reciprocal of Mars’s blood-stained soil. She understood, instantly, and knew he saw it in her eyes. “Having said that,” he finished, “there’s a ritual the Lady of the House may enact on the Longest Night if a man has died in service to her people during the year.”

  And a lot of people had died, making Laisrathera possible, and Liolesa’s plans. Something in her settled: this was another thing she and the Eldritch shared, this understanding that sacrifices needed to be honored. “Tell me what I need to do.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Reese had never had money for gifts before. She’d done her best to observe the holidays and natal days particular to her crewmembers by giving them bonuses, but that hardly counted when her bonuses amounted to either coffee money or promises of future money because she didn’t have any to hand out. She guessed th
ey’d gotten used to it; they’d been united in their poverty, and gradually they’d stopped keeping track of any gift-giving occasions at all. Or maybe the crew had given each other presents and she didn’t know about it, and they’d been too nice to mention it for fear that it would make her surly? That wouldn’t surprise her, given how things used to be.

  But now… now things were different. So different the possibilities were dizzying. She was operating on loans and gifts, certainly, but they were serious loans and gifts, and carving out even the tiniest sliver of that budget for presents resulted in an enormous fund. The only word she could describe when contemplating what to do was glee. After all these years, she finally understood why people enjoyed giving presents: it was a whole different experience when gift-giving was a pleasure, not an obligation that shamed her because she couldn’t perform to expectation.

  So she shopped and planned and researched—not just cultural background, like with Bryer, because what did you give a Phoenix anyway?—but also mundane things like how to wrap presents, because when had she ever learned? And she somehow kept on top of her mound of duties, and consulted with Taylor about what she was planning for the town, and pondered her invitations. Longest Night was a family affair, which meant, for her, all the people she’d come to care about. Val and Belinor and Urise couldn’t come, since they’d be involved with their priestly duties. Felith, surprisingly, begged off when invited, and at first Reese wondered if she’d upset the woman, or maybe transgressed against some stupid Eldritch custom about mixing aristocrats with servants… but Felith had family of her own, certainly. And maybe, Felith had a man she wanted to wait for? Reese eyed her speculatively and wondered who she could assign to figuring that out so she could encourage it. Maybe all happily affianced people turned into matchmakers; if it was as fun as being able to shop for presents, she could understand why.

  Taylor and Malia were celebrating with Lesandurel, and were visibly excited at the prospect. Reese guessed the Tams on assignment didn’t see their Eldritch very often, or the rest of their families.