Kaylin, however, had not, and she almost pushed herself out of her chair and across the table in angry outrage.
Helen’s hand—Helen’s physical hand—clamped down on her right shoulder. “The next course,” she said, “will be served now.”
* * *
Over the next two courses—none of which were the main meal, and all of which were distinctly unappetizing because they were too fancy—Grammayre and the Emperor danced around the question of the remand. The Emperor made no commitment, and the Hawklord was wise enough not to demand one.
“I had word that Moran dar Carafel has donned the ceremonial raiment of her position.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. As of this morning. She came to the Halls in almost complete regalia.” He deliberately avoided looking at Kaylin. “I do not know if you have seen the Records capture that arrived yesterday afternoon.”
“In theory, I have not. The Caste Court has demanded its embargo.”
The Hawklord didn’t seem to be surprised that the Emperor had, theoretically, chosen to respect any part of this demand. Kaylin, however, was.
“Theoretically, then, a human male is involved. He is currently in the holding cells for attempted assault—magical in nature—of Hawks.”
“Actual assault of a resident of Elani,” Kaylin helpfully added.
“I fail to see how an assault of that nature could be under the rubric of caste exemption,” the Emperor said. His eyes, which had been orange, now shaded into a more familiar orange gold. The Emperor’s eyes were never pure gold, in Kaylin’s experience.
“Oddly enough, Your Majesty, so did I. I have,” he added, “examined extant Caste Court Records—where they are available—and the man in question is definitively human; he is not outcaste Aerian.”
“They couldn’t make that claim of outcaste Aerians,” Kaylin interrupted, thinking with a pang of Lillias and the blessing she had procured for Moran, a gift Kaylin had still not given to the Aerian sergeant.
“Outcaste Aerians remain, for the purposes of Imperial Law, Aerian,” the Hawklord replied.
“Since when?” Before he could answer, she continued. “I know the actual laws. I know the actual laws better than half the older Hawks. Outcaste means something. You make someone outcaste, you’re essentially saying they’re no longer part of yourentire race.”
“That is not entirely true,” Bellusdeo said. “The Barrani outcastes—”
“Aren’t Aerians,” Kaylin snapped.
Careful. She looked across the table and met Severn’s gaze. Swallowed.
Bellusdeo, who was used to Kaylin, didn’t even seem to notice the interruption. But the Emperor, who wasn’t, did. Kaylin slammed into the wall of his orange eyes, but the Eternal Emperor’s expression was neutral. She glanced at the Arkon; his eyes were still golden.
“You speak,” the Emperor said, “as if you have actually met outcaste Aerians.”
This time, it was the Hawklord whose eyes shifted color; his wings definitely rose. He was far too well-bred to spread them at the dining table.
“I have,” Kaylin told the table.
“And I would like to knowwho,” a voice said from the hall. Kaylin looked past the dining table—everyone probably did—to see Moran dar Carafel, framed by the door.
* * *
She was dressed as she had been for her martial and defiant walk to the Halls of Law, with a couple of essential differences. The first: her hair. She had bathed, and it was a shiny, straight fall down her back. Her eyes were blue, but given the tone of her voice—appropriate for the infirmary and a sergeant—Kaylin expected that. Her injured wing had not yet been rebound; it was high, in all its damaged glory, the spots that had defined her life hidden from view by the rest of her.
“Private?”
“Kaylin,” Kaylin replied. “I’m not on duty.”
A very fancy stool appeared at the table. Apparently Moran was going to join them for dinner, after all.
Everyone at the table except Kaylin rose. Kaylin belatedly remembered that this was something people did at a dinner table when someone significant joined the party. That was the frustrating thing about so-called manners. None of them really made anysense. Then again, neither did Caste Court exemptions, as far as Kaylin was concerned, and she’d learned to live with those. She rose, as well.
She could feel an apology hovering in the air—Helen’s. She willed Helen not to say it out loud until after the guests had left, and Helen, hearing everything that Kaylin could think, remained silent.
