She could feel Ynpharion’s smile.Yes, Lord Kaylin. He is.
He’s supposed to be meeting Teela. Nowish.
He is indeed. But he must balance the demands of the Lady with the demands of Lord Teela. Who do you think has precedence?
Fine. I’ll tell Teela.
* * *
She didn’t have the opportunity. Teela seemed to understand—without the necessity of actual information—what was happening, or what had happened; she reacted with elegance and what seemed sincere pleasure at the request. Her eyes remained a martial green, but did not slide into blue; if she wasn’t happy, she wasn’t angry or worried, either. Or rather, wasn’t more angry or more worried.
“How long did you live here?” Kaylin asked quietly.
“I have had an official residence in the High Halls for centuries. It was not until I chose to join the Hawks on a whim that I adopted a domicile closer to the Halls of Law.” Her smile was pleasant. Her tone saidshut up.
Kaylin shut up. She noted that Severn felt no need to make conversation; he neither shrunk from attention nor demanded it. He seemed, in fact, to be at home in the High Halls, and Kaylin almost resented it.
This amused him; she could feel it. She resented that, as well.
The High Halls are a part of your job right now. They’re not otherwise part of your life. If the Barrani disapprove of you because you’re mortal, what of it? The only people you have to worry about are the High Lord and the Consort, and they clearly favor you. It annoys some of the Lords of the Court, he added. They feel it’s entirely too modern. They are only willing to hold their figurative noses because they don’t want to annoy the two most powerful people in the Court.
Yes, but—
When you leave here, you’re going home. Barrani ancestors weren’t capable of destroying your home, or you, while you were in it. To harm you right now, the Barrani would have to go through Teela—and I wouldn’t give an hour’s pay for their chances. You are in control here.
She didn’t feel like she was in control at all. But maybe, just maybe, no one did.
* * *
The Consort was waiting in the courtyard in which the Court gathered when called to do so by the High Lord. The Court itself was scattered throughout the interior grounds so artfully maintained in the heart of the High Halls; the Consort was on her throne. It was obviously a deliberate choice. She was the only person seated; to her left, Ynpharion had the position of honor. This surprised Kaylin, and her surprise annoyed Ynpharion. None of his annoyance showed, however.
Unlike your surprise.
She offered the Consort a perfect bow. The Consort didn’t actually make her hold it for more than a few seconds, and when Kaylin rose, the Consort rose, as well. She then crossed the distance between them and enfolded Kaylin in a hug. She left her arm around Kaylin’s shoulders as she turned to the rest of the Barrani milling in the open space. “I am not certain that all present are familiar with Lord Kaylin,” she said, with very mild emphasis on the last two words. “I believe you have made Lord Evarrim’s acquaintance.”
Evarrim bowed. Kaylin had come to understand that he was not a terribly politic man, although he was political. His expression was clear, readable, and annoyed. “Lord Kaylin.” He then turned and bowed to Severn and Teela in turn. They offered him the same courtesy. All of this took time.
Manners, apparently, always did.
“My apologies,” Teela said to the Consort. “Had I realized that Lord Evarrim was occupied by matters of greater import, I would not have attempted to meet with him.”
“Lord Evarrim has been extremely helpful to me in the past month,” the Consort replied. “He has barely had a chance to attend to his own work, and he has uttered no word of complaint.”
That was a patent untruth, in Kaylin’s opinion. Evarrim’s grimace acknowledged that opinion, but he held his peace. He was, she thought, a little like Mandoran: his opinions, even given no voice, were kind of obvious. In that, he wasn’t like Teela.
“I am aware, however, that his knowledge and experience are without parallel.” She glanced at Teela. Teela’s eyes were a shade bluer, as if the Consort’s words had been a warning, or possibly even a threat.
“I do not wish to be at the beck and call of the Emperor,” Evarrim said. His eyes were entirely blue, the martial shade. Teela winced—possibly for him—and the Consort spared him a pointed glance, but left the words out.
“It is not,” Kaylin surprised them all by saying, “exclusively an Imperial concern.” She spoke in very precise High Barrani. Severn nodded, but said nothing. Nor did he move. He was capable of standing still for a very long time; Kaylin could manage At Attention without fidgeting, but it had taken years.
“No?” Evarrim asked—of Kaylin.
“You are aware of the reason for the existence of the fiefs and their Towers.”
He looked mildly insulted, but nodded anyway.
“This matter may pertain to those defenses—or a breach in those defenses.”
