I'd been proud of the parlor, over which I had spent a great deal of time. The...

I'd been proud of the parlor, over which I had spent a great deal of time. The ceiling had inlaid tiles in the same summer-sky blue that comprised the main color of the rugs and cushions and the tapestry on the wall opposite the newly glassed windows. Now I sneaked a look at the Marquis, dreading an expression of amusement or disdain. But his attention seemed to be reserved for the lady as he led her to the scattering of cushions before the fireplace, where she knelt down with a graceful sweeping of her skirts. Bran went over and opened the fire vents.
"If I'd known of your arrival, it would have been warm in here."
Bran looked over his shoulder in surprise. "Well, where d'you spend your days? Not still in the kitchens?"
"In the kitchens and the library and wherever else I'm needed," I said; and though I tried to sound cheery, it came out sounding resentful. "I'll be back after I see about food and drink."
Feeling very much like I was making a cowardly retreat, I ran down the long halls to the kitchen, cursing my bad luck as I went. There I found Julen, Oria, the new cook, and his assistant all standing in a knot talking at once. As soon as I appeared, the conversation stopped.
Julen and Oria turned to face me--Oria on the verge of laughter.
"The lady can have the new rose room, and the lord the corner suite next to your brother. But they've got an army of servants with them, Countess," Julen said heavily. Whenever she called me Countess, it was a sure sign she was deeply disturbed over something. "Where'll we house There's no space in our wing, not till we finish the walls."
"And who's to wait on whom?" Oria asked as she carefully brought my mother's good silver trays out from the wall-shelves behind the new-woven coverings. "Glad we've kept these polished," she added.
"I'd say find out how many of those fancy palace servants are kitchen trained, and draft 'em. And then see if some of the people from that new inn will come up, for extra wages. can unpocket the extra pay," I said darkly, "if he's going to make a habit of disappearing for half a year and reappearing with armies of retainers. As for housing, well, the garrison does have a new roof, so they can all sleep there. We've got those new Fire Sticks to warm 'em up with."
"What about meals for your guests?" Oria said, her eyes wide.
I'd told Oria last summer that she could become steward of the house. While I'd been ordering books on trade, and world history, and governments, she had been doing research on how the great houses were currently run; and it was she who had hired Demnan, the new cook. We'd eaten well over the winter, thanks to his genius.
I looked at Oria. "This is it. No longer just us, no longer practice, it's time to dig out all your plans for running a fine house for a noble family. Bran and his two Court guests will need something now after their long journey, and I have no idea what's proper to offer Court people."
"Well, I do," Oria said, whirling around, hands on hips, her face flushed with pleasure. "We'll make you proud, I promise."
I sighed. "Then…I guess I'd better go back."
As I ran to the parlor, pausing only to ditch my blanket in an empty room, I steeled myself to be polite and pleasant no matter how much my exasperating brother inadvertently provoked me--but when I pushed aside the tapestry at the door, they weren't there.
And why should they be? This was Branaric's home, too.