* * *
Bellusdeo and Kaylin took a detour to the Royal library after the much shorter-than-expected lesson. Kaylin said nothing; she’d expected the detour. She was no longer thinking of Evanton and the elemental water; instead, she was thinking of the East Warrens, of Candallar and of the mortals he might be meeting on this side of the Ablayne. Mortals did venture into the fiefs to cause misery that was entirely illegal in the city proper. And that was perhaps unfair. But Nightshade’s visitors went to him, not the other way around.
This implied that whoever was meeting with Candallar did not wish to enter the fiefs. And possibly could not afford to be seen doing so. It also implied that the mortal was the person with the actual power.
The library door was open; clearly, the Arkon had also expected the social detour. He was even waiting by the desk that the librarians otherwise occupied when the public part of the library—less direly guarded, but no less jealously—was open.
His eyes were orange, his arms were folded, and the look he gave Bellusdeo was uncharacteristically harsh.
“I’m sorry, Lannagaros,” Bellusdeo said, although she seemed a bit surprised.
“I am perfectly willing to lie—”
“‘Lie’ is a harsh word.”
“It is the correct word in this particular case. I am willing, however, to intercede in a less than entirely honest fashion with any other member of the Dragon Court, the Emperor included. Do not expect that I will do so when speaking with Lord Diarmat.”
“You did.” She folded her arms, her lips lifting at the corners. Her eyes were now gold.
“I did, yes. I will never do so again.”
“Might I ask why the aversion with that particular Dragon?”
“You may.” He glanced at Kaylin. “The amount of trouble you can accidentally wander into is astonishing—and I have centuries of observed hotheaded stupidity against which to compare it. I would appreciate it if you left Bellusdeo out.”
“I, however, would not. And Lannagaros? She lives with me.” Bellusdeo’s smile was feline, but with more exposed teeth.
“You live with her. And yes, I am old enough that I will not ask the impossible. Kaylin is transparent; if she attempted to be covert, I am certain the result would be failure.”
“But possibly entertaining?”
“Possibly.” His tone saidnever. “Lord Diarmat is, in some ways, like Kaylin.”
Both Kaylin and Bellusdeo sputtered. The familiar squawked, obviously highly amused.
“In what way are they alike?” the golden Dragon demanded.
“They have an appalling lack of finesse when it comes to complex matters. Neither of them are particularly skilled at prevarication. If Kaylin’s superiors deem it wise to leave her out of missions which require diplomacy, so, too, do Lord Diarmat’s. In Lord Diarmat’s case, however, his inefficiency is entirely his own desire. He considers prevarication, even with cause, to diminish the actual value of truth, as if there exists a single thing that could be called truth.
“He is highly honorable. He expects that we will be the same. And while we are not, of course, his equal in this regard, we respect him.”
“We?”
“The rest of the Dragon Court, excluding perhaps yourself.”
“He is a humorless, judgmental, condescending—”
“Yes, he is that, as well. But he is not without value to the Court or to the Emperor. I understand why the two of you do not get along. I accept that. But I will not and cannot treat him or think of him as you do, and I find it painful to be caught out in a lie when confronted by him.”
This seemed to almost shock Bellusdeo.
“I am older and wiser than I was when we both lived in the Aerie. I think, in my youth, I was much more like Diarmat.”
“You were not.”
“I was. But I was more indulgent than Diarmat. I was not less condescending. You were hatchlings—you and your sisters. What I expected from infants was not what I expected from adults. Lord Diarmat considers you a peer, not a child.
“And having said that, Lord Bellusdeo, I did as you indirectly asked. I will attend Kaylin’s dinner with the Consort. I assume you will likewise be in attendance.”
