Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 113
Axel had weaseled his way into the main building,
naturally. Calandria had no difficulty getting directions to his
room; all the servants knew him. He'd only been here two
days.
She took the steps up to the third floor two at a time.
Despite herself, she smiled as she thought of Axel tossing that
fop on his ear. Outside his door she paused, looking down at
herself. She still wore ragged outdoors gear. It would have
been so much better if they'd arrived first, then she could have
met him in a proper gown, with pearls at her ears. She sighed,
and rapped on the door.
"Enter." She stepped into a lavish bedroom. It was
huge--and had a perfect view of the grounds. Velvet draperies
hung everywhere, over the windows and framing the bed. The
bedposts were carved with leaf motifs, and painted gold. Or
maybe they were gold. A woman's slipper lay half-concealed
under the bed. Yes, this was Axel's room all right.
He rose from a writing desk. He had discarded his
jacket, and wore a billowing blue silk shirt. "Ho!" He opened
his arms as he came to her. "And don't hit me this time!"
She returned the embrace warmly. He still smelled of
wine, but she knew him; he'd have taken a restorative before
meeting with her. He held her for a second longer than she'd
have liked, but that too was normal. As he broke away he
gestured at the room. "Quite a place, no?"
"I expected no less of you," she said, eyeing the slipper.
It constantly amazed her how well Axel did in situations
had been trained in espionage and intelligence-gathering by
people who made a religion of such things. They had plucked
her out of the crude reformatory she had ended in after her
mother's arrest and death, and erased all links with her past and