A Posse of Princesses by Sherwood Smith Page B

quaint dignity, and broke
her biscuit.
    Rhis cadged her mind for a suitable topic.
“Isn’t your land full of mountains, too?”
    Yuzhyu looked up quickly, her lips
moving.
    “Mountains?” Rhis repeated, shaping her hands
into a peak.
    “We have mountains, too,” Shera said,
speaking a little louder than usual.
    The expressive blond brows cleared over those
round blue eyes. “Ah! Yiss! Um, we do, yiss. You too? I yam
Yuzhyu.”
    “Rhis.” Rhis touched her bodice. “Nym, where
I live, is nothing but mountains.” She made herself slow her speech
just slightly, and was rewarded by close attention, and almost
immediate comprehension. “If we had a flat place, we would probably
build sideways.” Again, she mimed a building going to the side.
    Yuzhyu repeated “Sideways—” She looked at her
hands, and then her face crinkled in mirth. Her laugh reminded Rhis
of a lark.
    “Yiss! Us too. Windows, um, om, up!” Yuzhyu
gestured toward the sky, still chuckling. “Door, down!”
    Rhis laughed with her. Shera turned back to
Carithe, who wanted to talk about the play, leaving Rhis with the
princess from Ndai.
    For the remainder of her breakfast they
struggled through a conversation about mountains, and riding. Rhis
wished Taniva was there to talk about riding, for she knew so
little she was afraid she was boring, and in truth, it was
difficult to make conversation, though obviously Yuzhyu was trying
her very best. Then, some of the princess’s word choices were so
funny that Rhis worked hard not to laugh, but she was quaking
inwardly with suppressed giggles when at last Yuzhyu finished,
stood up, and said, “I fine me tutor. Practice ze talk!” She
touched her lips. Then a funny little nod, and a friendly look.
“Zank you, Reez.”
    She walked away, casting one troubled glance
toward Lios and Iardith’s table. The black-haired princess leaned
with her chin on her fingers, a delicate pose, completely
monopolizing the prince’s attention.
    Rhis sighed. She decided to find the library,
which turned out to be a vast room lined all the way around with
books. Shelves and shelves of books, the top row reaching just
above her head. At the far end of the room, scribes were busy at
work, just as she’d been told. She tiptoed along the wall, scanning
the gold-etched titles on the bindings of the books. Some of them
were histories; quite a number of the older ones referred to people
and places of which she’d never heard.
    She kept walking, hoping she’d discover the
plays, when she was startled by a voice.
    “May I help you find something, my lady?”
    A girl her own age, dressed in scribe garb,
stood politely just behind her elbow.
    “I’m looking for plays,” Rhis said.
    “Across that way.” The girl pointed to the
opposite side of the room.
    Rhis murmured a word of thanks as she looked
down. The table was covered with sheets of creamy paper, book
paper, and ink and good pens. Immediately in front of her lay a
sheet neatly written over, and next to it a book with an unfamiliar
script.
    “Will Prince Lios be reading these books once
you translate them?” she asked.
    The girl smiled. “He’s already read them, my
lady. It was he who chose them. We’re translating them for people
here—now and in future.”
    How many languages did he speak? Rhis
wondered. But she didn’t ask. It felt too much like gossip, and all
the scribes were looking at her. Waiting in polite patience to get
back to their task.
    “Thank you,” she said, and moved round the
table to where the plays were located.
    There again she was daunted by the vast
number, so she picked three at random, and carried them out,
intending to find a comfortable spot and read.
    She walked through the main gathering room,
where everyone seemed in a subdued mood. Not that many had come
downstairs. The people sat in small groups, either talking or
eating as the rain thrummed against the long bank of windows. No
one was on the terrace, not even Taniva.
    Where was