“I think she does have a headache,” Kaylin offered when even the echoes of Bellusdeo’s heavier-than-necessary steps had died away. Kaylin was well on the way to a headache herself, because Bellusdeo had used full Dragon volume, and had given her no time to attempt to plug her ears.
It had, on the other hand, had an effect on the cohort. Terrano relaxed—marginally—when Bellusdeo left, but the rest of the cohort looked slightly embarrassed. Which was better than fire and fury.
“Did you guys always argue like this?” Kaylin asked them.
“‘Like this’ has different meanings,” Sedarias replied.
“That’s a yes,” Terrano added, weathering Sedarias’s resulting glare. “It didn’tmatter. And it doesn’t really matter here, either. Helen contains them, just as Alsanis did. We didn’t have to worry about the harm we were doing to the environment, and we weren’t activelyharmingeach other. We were...trying to be more emphatic. To make our points more clear.”
“I fail to see how turning into splashes of badly matching color is going to make anything more clear.”
“That’s because you have terrible vision, and that’s all you’re capable of perceiving. That isnotwhat they were doing.”
“Could you join them?”
“Thanks, I spent centuries doing exactly that, and it’s the one thing Ido notmiss.”
Kaylin laughed. So did Mandoran. Sedarias, notably, did not. “We communicate that way when in states of emotional duress.”
Kaylin nodded, biting back a sarcastic comment.
“It is our way of making clear exactly what we mean, and why; it’s a way of emphasizing our personal contexts.”
That was so not what it looked like to Kaylin; it seemed more an attempt to overwhelm anyone else’s. She also kept this to herself. “If you’re finished, we’ve got a ton of paperwork to get through.”
“Serralyn is reading it now,” Sedarias replied. She seemed to redden. “And you are correct. We don’t have time for this.”
“Can you promise that you won’t do this—won’t come even close toconsideringit—while we have guests?”
“I can.”
“Can you do it so the promise actually has real meaning?”
Sedarias’s smile was chilly. “Yes, I can. You, however, cannot.”
The marks on Kaylin’s arms began to glow as Kaylin once again forced herself not to respond. Sadly, the marks were visible. Spoken words would probably have been better, even if they were snappish and sarcastic. “I’m not doing that on purpose,” she told the cohort.
The cohort, and Tain, were now staring at Sedarias, not Kaylin, even though Kaylin was the one with the glowing arms.
“Sedarias, dear,” Helen said, breaking a silence that had begun to stretch out to encompass everything, “I believe that Kaylin’s marks—and she really isn’t controlling what they currently do in any conscious fashion—disagree with that assessment. But I also think that the question she asked—not so much about oaths or promises, as about controlling theexpressionof your tempers—is the necessary question.
“It isnotanger, fury, fear or any other emotion that defines you here. It is how well you control them. They are yours; they do not belong to anyone else. You will have your own priorities. Of course you will. But you cannot force others to adopt them.”
Mandoran coughed.
“Yes, dear,” Helen replied, although he hadn’t spoken. “I suppose thatisone definition of power. But those people—the ones you do not destroy in your rage—do not adopt your priorities; they live in your shadows instead. They live in fear of you. And I don’t think I need to tell you that while I have no control over what occurs outside of my boundaries, I will not allow fear to be the fulcrum by which the people in this house move others.
“If for no other reason, Kaylin is my lord, in more archaic terms. And that isnotwhat Kaylin wants from a home.” Helen’s Avatar turned to Sedarias. “Kaylin can, I believe, enforce a binding oath. It would harm her to do so and I will therefore ask that she refrain.”
“How would it harm her?” Sedarias demanded.
“How would it harm me?” Kaylin said. The words overlapped, which was always a bit embarrassing.
Helen’s Avatar frowned, her obsidian glance moving between the Barrani and the Hawk. It was therefore Mandoran who answered, although he glared at Teela as if demanding she do it first. “You force a binding oath on someone you don’t trust. The Barrani don’t trust easily, if ever. Had the High Court chosen to send us, as adults, to theregalia, we wouldn’t be here now. We would never have taken the risks we took back then. We wouldn’t know each other’s names. Look—you trust Teela, right?”
Kaylin nodded. “With my life.”
“With your keys?”
