“That’s different.”
He laughed. “You trust her, though.”
“Of course I do. She’s a Hawk.” Kaylin could practically hear Tain rolling his eyes beside her.
“Would you ask her to swear a binding oath?”
“Why?”
Mandoran now rolled his eyes. “That’s not an answer. Would you ask Teela to swear a binding oath?”
“Well, what exactlyisa binding oath?”
He glanced at Sedarias with a veryI told you soexpression. “A binding oath enforces penalties should the person who has voluntarily entered into it break that oath. In some cases, and depending on the oath itself, it can kill.” He spoke Barrani. High Barrani. The language the Imperial Laws were written in. “Would you make that demand, if you could?”
“I trust her. If she promises to do something—”
“You cannot know all of a person’s intent, all of their concerns, all of the fears and duties that press down upon them. You cannot know all of their motivations, and assigning your motivationstothem, while comforting, is generally unwise. If Teela, for reasons that you did not know, were to break her word, and the cost of doing so would kill her, would you force this on her?”
“No!”
“Mandoran,” Teela said out loud. “That is quite enough.”
But Helen said, “I believe you should allow him to finish.”
“You are Kaylin’s home,” Teela said, never moving her eyes from Mandoran. “I’m her friend. And I am doing Mandoran the kindness of offering a distinct warning.”
Tain tensed. Glancing at him, Kaylin saw his eyes change shade—they’d been blue to start with, and they became midnight blue. Oh. She was tired, she was stressed out, she was terrified about the consequences of the Consort’s arrival, she was worried for the entire cohort—except maybe Mandoran at the moment, because she wanted to strangle him—and the anxieties had made her stupid.
She moved her gaze from Tain to Teela, whose eyes werealsomidnight blue; the Barrani Hawk who was also Lord of the High Court and one of the bearers of the three dragonslayers was vibrating in place. Almost literally.
“Teela, the argument you guys were having?”
Teela failed to hear her, which was always deliberate. But she was looking at Sedarias. Allaron moved to stand almost in front of Kaylin, and when Kaylin tried to push him out of the way, he failed to budge. At all.
“Was it aboutme?”
Chapter 4
Teela didn’t answer. Neither did anyone else—not even Helen. There was a strain in the wake of the question that made the answer perfectly clear. Not everyone in the training room had been in agreement.
“What, exactly, were you arguing about? Is it something I did?”
“No,” Teela said. It was a snap of ice, a single word that implied death.
Kaylin exhaled slowly. The cohort—or those trapped here—had fully reassumed their physical forms, their Barrani identities, and she didn’t want to cause a repeat of the argument, which was clearly only finished for now. “Fine. We’ve got stacks of political fieldwork to read, and a Consort who, you may have forgotten, is going to descend on this house tomorrow.
“I can’t—or won’t,” she added, looking at her arms, which were still glowing, “force a binding oath on anyone. Helen wouldn’t like it—and to be fair, neither would I. But if this happens again, if it happens one more time, I’m going to refuse to let the Consort in when she does show up at the door.
“I’ll refuse to let the Arkon in, as well.”
“That would be politically very unwise,” Sedarias said, her tone only marginally less icy than Teela’s had been. “For you.”
Kaylin shrugged. “It’s not my life’s goal to become a powerful, political figure.”
“You are a Lord of the High Court.”
“On paper, yes. But what can they do to me? Toss me out?” Kaylin shrugged. “I can’t be made outcaste by the Barrani. I could possibly be made outcaste by the Human Caste Court, but our Court doesn’t work the way yours does. The Human Caste Court—the lords who comprise it—would have to know who I am. Even if they did, I’d have to accept the designation. And I wouldn’t. I’d invoke the law; I wouldn’t just sit around waiting to be kicked whiletheyattempted to invoke laws of exemption.
