“Do the Prince and the Lord Glafko divide the presents that are brought, or does the Prince keep them all?” asked Danaë.
“Presents? what presents?”
“The presents that they will not suffer the guards to take.”
Linton snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, my girl. Neither the Prince nor my master have anything to do with presents. What is needed for the household is honestly bought and paid for, and the people are beginning to understand it.”
Danaë laughed. “The great ones take their commission on the taxes, then?”
“You seem to think the Roumis are still here, Kalliopé. The taxes are collected by the Therma Government, and the Prince merely sees that it’s done. And little enough gratitude he gets for all his work, and the peace and order the Colonel keeps with his police. This tumble-down old place, and nothing more.”
“You would have me believe that this is all kept up upon nothing?” with open incredulity.
“The Prince spends out of his own pocket to do it.”
Danaë laughed freely. “That is very fine—to talk about. The money returns to him somehow, of course. He is laying up a great store—or the ladies spend it upon jewels.”
“My lady’s jewels could be bought with a hundred-pound note any day,” said Linton indignantly. “The Princess has a better show, but they came to her from her own family. And the one thing she prizes most of all has been stolen, and she can’t get it back—a waistband with pictures of saints all over it.”