* * *
The Consort was not dressed for Court, but her hair—a long, white drape that had parted to expose her face—was unique enough she could not be mistaken for any other Barrani. Her eyes, in the surface of the Hallionne’s version of a mirror, which happened to be a pool of water nestled in an intricate, standing basin, were blue. The blue lightened the moment the Consort could see Kaylin.
“Why are you even here?” The Barrani Hawk demanded. “It’s not safe, at the moment.”
The blue darkened again.
Ynpharion was immediately present; his silence was almost scorching. It was also the silence of drawn breath; he meant to speak but could not find adequate words.
Don’t shout at me, Kaylin told him, irritated.Do something useful instead.
I shudder to contemplate what you might consider useful.
Teach me how to think things that you won’t be able to hear.
While I admit that actual privacy from the shoddy interior of your thoughts holds some appeal to me—
Thanks.
—I fail to see why I would teach you to lock the figurative door in my face.
It’s notyourface I’m worried about.
Silence.You are worried about a different nameheld.
I don’t understand Barrani families, no. Most of the time Nightshade and Lirienne don’t bother me; I can forget that Lirienne even exists. But...the Consort seems to have some suspicions about her brother.
Concerns, Lord Kaylin. Suspicion among my kin is different. But you are concerned about the Lord of the West March and Nightshade, and you are not concerned with me?This seemed to offend Ynpharion. Kaylin didn’t care.
And that was the crux of the matter. She didn’t care. There was no possible way to fall any lower on the ladder of Ynpharion’s respect or regard; there was only up. He already despised her, barely tolerated her, and frequently shrieked—or the mental equivalent—at some perceived stupidity or other. But his anger or contempt was in no way equal to her anger or contempt for herself on the very bad days. With Ynpharion she had nothing to lose.
You might, he said,have something to gain.He was, predictably, annoyed.
I’m not sure anything I could do that would better your opinion of me would better my opinion of myself. And that’s beside the point. I need to learn how to shield my thoughts and my life from the others.
I for one would appreciate less of your life in mine.
“Lord Kaylin.”
Kaylin blinked. Theotherthing she needed to learn was the ability to have a full conversation on the inside of her head without bringing her external interactions to a dead halt.
“Sorry. My head is pretty noisy at the moment.”
This got the glimmer of a smile from the Consort, which was probably as much as anyone could get, given current events.
It is, Ynpharion grudgingly said.She is highly concerned. She is, I should warn you, not best pleased with the cohort at the moment.
Oh?
Had they waited a handful of decades—perhaps a century at the outside—the entire High Court would be better politically equipped to deal with their presence. This is far, far too early.
Maybe the cohort didn’t understand that, was Kaylin’s uneasy response.
It is likely, given what you’ve witnessed, that most of them did not understand it; I do not believe Annarion considers it relevant. Sedarias, however, understood. She did not wish to take the risk that the preparations would somehow be either welcoming or positive.
And you know that how?
I do not. It is, however, what the Consort believes.
