“Assistant,” the woman greeted Kasira warmly with a dip of her head. “I am Nyelle Yadora. I had hoped we would get a chance to talk.”
“Did you?” Kasira returned the small bow, mind already turning. Lady Nyelle was one of Allaster’s few allies, which made her a valuable source. “And what is it you hoped to speak about?”
Nyelle offered Kasira her arm. “Why don’t we walk?”
Ah, so it was that sort of chat. Accepting her arm, she allowed Nyelle to lead her from the crowd to a more secluded area of the garden, where great white trellises coated in climbing vines obscured them from view.
Nyelle released her with an evaluating gaze. “You look lovely.”
“As do you,” she returned, and waited. She would not be the one to betray her hand first.
Nyelle smiled as if she knew exactly what Kasira was doing. “I have to say that when I heard of what you had done, I was worried, but in truth, I think you have been good for Allaster.”
First-name basis, Kasira thought. Exactly how close were these two? “I’m not sure he would agree,” she replied. “In fact, I think he would prefer not to deal with me altogether.”
“He would prefer not to deal with anything at all, but here we are.”
At that, Kasira afforded her a smile. “You seem to know him rather well.”
“Better than most, though we haven’t seen much of each other as of late.” She offered a shrug whose nonchalance Kasira didn’t believe for a second. “Does he still drink too much mylak and forget to eat?”
Kasira recognized what Nyelle was doing: She was trying to establish an anchor between them via a shared sense of exasperation with Allaster’s eccentricities. Through it, she could extract information from Kasira under the guise of casual conversation. It presented the woman in a new light—not just a source, but a potential threat.
“Lady Nyelle,” Kasira replied evenly, “if you want to know how Allaster is doing, just ask.”
A small smile curved her lips. “Forgive me. I haven’t yet decided whether to take you at your word.”
“At least you’re direct in yours.”
“Sometimes too much, I’ve been told.” Nyelle clasped her hands before her and nodded down the path. “Let’s keep walking.” They took a turn about the outskirts of the garden, looking like nothing more than two women conversing.
“Allaster is … troubled,” Kasira told her after a moment. “And I have a feeling I only know the tip of it. He’s keeping something from me, and it’s weighing on him. To answer your question: No, he doesn’t eat, and yes, he drinks too much mylak.”
Nyelle eyed her curiously. “You’ve shared all of that very freely.”
“I know you aren’t his enemy. I know the look of someone who cares for another.” She was not above using Nyelle’s own tactics against her. If Allaster refused to tell Kasira what was happening, and May was too loyal to him to do it herself, then the next best thing was an ally with a vested interest in Allaster succeeding, but removed enough that they might not feel the same personal attachment.
Nyelle made a considering sound and rounded to a stop in front of Kasira. “I have what I came for. I sense you have questions of your own?”
Kasira had clearly passed a test of sorts. Had Nyelle been feeling her out as a threat? She clearly cared about Allaster, and as his only ally in Kalthos, perhaps she was the source of his information on Kasira’s past.
“You asked me how he is,” she began. “Do you know the cause of his distress?”
The noblewoman’s hand strayed to a brooch on her dress—pure gold and carved in the shape of three rising flames: Haidra’s mark. “I wish I did.” Her gaze followed Kasira’s to the brooch, and her fingers curled about it. “You must be wondering why I wear this if I’m a beast sympathizer.”
“I’ve never cared for the term.”
Nyelle laughed lightly. “I like you, Kasira. Tell me, what do you know of the religions of the northern reaches?”
“They are the source of the goddess’s word.” At least, that was what Revna had always told her, upholding the notion like a banner of honor. Thane had spoken of it too, with the sort of bitter reverence born of someone who resented their belief. Despite her mother’s roots in the area, Kasira herself had never visited, her childhood contained to the capital.
“Indeed. But if you travel north, beyond the swamps to the base of the Terasor Mountains, you will find a very different story being told.” She gestured to a nearby bench cocooned by shrubs, and they sat. “I pray to Haidra every night, but mine is not the goddess these people know. In the northern cities, beasts are seen as sin, the same as here, but they are seen as sins to beappeased, not destroyed.”
Kasira frowned. “Appeased?”
“We make offerings to them, committing good acts to counteract the terrible ones that birthed them.” Nyelle spoke with a fervor that rivaled Vera’s, the sort of conviction that came only from unwavering belief. “Haidra’s beasts are her children, each creature a piece of her light that breaks off when a sin is committed and returns to her once it has been appeased. Killing beasts is a mockery of that belief.”
Kasira tried to wrap her mind around the idea that the capital’s entire religion had false origins. “But how did it get so twisted?”
