She squeezed his hand. “Nightfall instead of dawn,” she said. “The poor flowers are confused.”
“Not as confused as the Naestors, I think,” he said. Their pace was slow and languid. “And no Thewliss! He is well, rest assured. I should tell him never to grease the axles of his noisy cart, because I prefer to have a little warning that he is coming.” He gave her an inviting look.
Maia smiled at him. “I want to hear your story,” she said. “I am desperate to hear it.”
“You have had a busy day, my love.” He noticed her subtle limp. “You are tired. Here, sit by the flower beds.” Taking her arm, he put his other hand on the small of her back and led her toward the bed with all the blue forget-me-nots. She suspected he did that deliberately and could not keep a tender smile from her lips.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting his help to sit on the wide stone railing surrounding the elevated flower box. She smoothed her skirts and gazed up at him, drinking in the sight of him.
“What do you wish to know first?” he asked her. “I suppose you are wondering about Murer coming to get revenge on me?”
Maia shook her head. “I already know you are faithful to me. She told me herself. She was especially vengeful because of the way you had humiliated her here.”
He winced at that. “Yes, I can see that. I believe there is a maston saying about a woman scorned. I should have remembered.”
Maia smiled and rubbed her palms over the smooth stone of the bench.
“My goal was to fool the Dochte Mandar. I am rather cunning, my lady,” he said with an impertinent look. “I warned you of that long ago. There is another maston saying—you can tell I have been reading my tome every day—about being as wise as a serpent yet as harmless as a dove. That describes the two of us perfectly, I think. I had a suspicion that my messages to Simon were being intercepted. So I deliberately sent him news that would misdirect our enemies, including any possible hetaera.”
Maia stared at him in surprise.
“Devious, I know,” he said with a smirk. “Sometimes I cannot help myself. For example, when I returned to Dahomey, I went straight to the Aldermaston of Lisyeux, confessed my many faults, and asked for his counsel on how to end the war with Paeiz in the shortest time possible, win them to our side, and pass the maston test . . . all in less than a fortnight.” He grinned to himself at the memory. “I could only think of one way. And that would mean borrowing some of my then-wife’s meekness and humility.” He paced slowly in front of her, glancing at her periodically to see her reaction. She had the sense he rather enjoyed startling her. Though she admired his handsome looks, she tried not to make that admiration so plain on her face.
“Go on,” she said.
“The Aldermaston suggested,” he continued, “that instead of quarrelling with Paeiz over our shared borders, I should grant them the lands they contested in a secret agreement. That was my thought as well, so I believe the Medium had prompted us both. I sent my army marching to crush our invaders, but instead I rode ahead as Feint Collier and negotiated the treaty without the Dochte Mandar’s involvement, persuading the king to pledge their support to Comoros. We had a merry time positioning our armies for battle and then moving them hither and yon, all while preparing our fleets to sail to your aid.”
Maia could not help herself. She was impressed. “That was what happened, truly?” she asked. “You gave up a portion of your kingdom?”
He stopped pacing and gazed down at her upturned face. “I considered what I was getting—you—to be infinitely more important. And that land had been a source of contention between our nations for years, so I knew the agreement would benefit me in other ways as well. Having struck an understanding with Paeiz, I had time to focus on the maston test. I passed it several weeks ago and earned my chaen.”