“It is,” a familiar voice replied. “You are late, however.” It was Lord Evarrim. Of course it was. He stepped out of the shadows as he approached, and tendered the Consort a deep, a perfect, bow. “I have attempted to remain inconspicuous while keeping watch. So far, none of the supplicants have emerged to face their final trial.”
“And you’ve encountered no other difficulties?” the Consort asked.
Silence.
Kaylin had never trusted Evarrim. She didn’t trust him now. But she had come, however grudgingly, to understand that he would never harm the Consort; that he was willing—as Ynpharion was willing—to die in her defense. As she turned to examine him, she saw two things. One: the gem in his tiara was cracked. Two, his clothing—and it was Barrani cloth—was blackened in places.
“No difficulty that was insurmountable, Lady.” His glance caught on the flat of Teela’s sword, the blue of his eyes shifting to a lighter color. He was surprised.
“Are these halls safe?”
“They are momentarily safe,” Evarrim replied. “They are not, in my opinion, secure. Your suspicions about the activities of certain members of the Court have been proved substantially correct.”
Teela stiffened. Kaylin even understood why. Suspicion was a way of life, for the Barrani. It was so much a way of life that suspicion of bad—or illegal—behavior counted for nothing. If you couldn’t be viewed with suspicion it was because you were already dead.
But proof? That was often harder to come by. And where proof existed, threat existed. If Evarrim was certain he had proof, no one who was made aware of it—or who could, at any rate, preserve it for later use—was meant to survive.
“I hope that your companions are worth the risk that we have taken,” Lord Evarrim said to Teela.
She said nothing.
“It was at my request that such a risk was taken,” the Consort said. “But if this is what our enemies can cobble together on such short notice, it is far better that the risk be taken now; imagine what we might be facing had they time to truly prepare. It is not my life that is targeted here,” she added.
Evarrim said nothing. Loudly.
Lord Evarrim is direct, for a Lord of the High Court; it is considered his signal failing. Your understanding of the situation is correct; his expression makes clear that he does not agree with the Lady’s opinion. He will not, however, speak of it. What she chooses to tolerate, he will tolerate. One could only wish that he could do so competently.
I’m not sure you’re any better than he is.
I am far better at dissembling than Lord Evarrim. But I have had to be; I do not have his raw power. Nor do I have his family. You and he are similar.
Kaylin tried not to take offense, and because she was now worried, she managed to succeed. Mostly.We’re not.
You are. You are incapable of displaying even the most basic of manners because you feel you are safe from reprisal. You do not care what others might think of you while you are at Court because you are notofthe Court in any true sense. You do not believe the consequences will make a material difference in your life. So, too, Evarrim. Evarrim, however, has confidence because he has the power to survive possible consequences.
“An’Teela,” Evarrim said, tendering her a perfect bow—which might be a first. He did not hesitate. As Teela was standing beside Severn, he added, “Lord Severn.”
Teela nodded. So, to Kaylin’s dismay, did Severn. “Stay with the Lady.”
Ynpharion stepped aside to allow Evarrim pride of position as Teela and Severn headed down the hall.
The Consort did not move. “Kaylin, you now have time.”
“Pardon?”
“Find Calarnenne.”
Kaylin blinked. “I’m not sure how—”
“You have more of a chance of doing so than any other person present.”
Evarrim was absolutely silent; his eyes were indigo. He opened his mouth and shut it—loudly—before words fell out.
The Consort forgives much. You are living proof of that. There are some things, however, that she will not forgive. And Evarrim is part of her Court. You have leeway he does not.
Do you understand their relationship at all?
No.
