“Exactly what I said.” Kaylin exhaled. “Diarmat seems to feel that if I don’t understand the political structure of the High Court, I’ll cause offense no matter what I do. And this? It’s the Dragon Court’s understanding of the current hierarchy. A sort of who’s who. Or maybe who’s trying to kill who.”
“You’re not going to be surprised when I say she wants to see it, are you?”
“I’m not sure she won’t consider it comedy.”
“Given her mood? Comedy would be appreciated by the rest of us.” He winced. “She’s not happy with the available clothing in the house.”
“Helen can probably help out with that—but the clothing she makes doesn’t tend to stick around beyond the front gates.”
“Unless we’re eating in the streets, that shouldn’t matter.” He winced again. “I have to head downstairs.”
“Someone other than you getting stuck in the walls?”
“Very funny.”
Only after Mandoran had headed downstairs, as he referred to the shifting complex of rooms and stairs that comprised Helen’s basement, did Terrano appear. Of the cohort, he was the most silent, the most withdrawn. Allaron, the cohort’s giant, and easily the tallest Barrani Kaylin had ever met, usually grabbed him by the shoulder and physically dragged him to wherever the rest of the group was seated. But Terrano couldn’t join their internal banter—or internal screaming arguments, which was what Kaylin suspected was more likely—and she knew when Terrano was actually with his friends because they were all forced to speak out loud if they wanted him to hear what they said.
“What is it really?” he asked.
“It really is a document that’s supposed to help me navigate the political undercurrents of the High Court. Or at least that’s what I was told. I’ve only managed to look at the first few pages.”
“Is a Dragon really coming to dinner?”
“If the Consort is, yes.” She exhaled. “We have a Dragon for dinner on most nights.”
His expression made clear that he knew this. He was still far warier of Bellusdeo than any of the rest of the cohort, and it was clear that he found their reaction to Kaylin’s housemate confusing. Or wrong.
“TheotherDragon is called the Arkon. I don’t actually know why, so don’t ask; he has a perfectly reasonable name, but Bellusdeo is the only person I’ve heard use it. He’s old, he’s cranky and he’d prefer to be walled into his library; the only thing that can dig him out of it is a literal fireball. Or Bellusdeo.”
“Why is he coming?”
It was her turn to grimace. “Because the Dragon Court doesn’t trust my political competence. The Arkon chose to come because Bellusdeo and Lord Diarmat don’t get along all that well, and having Lord Diarmat be my supervisor—in my own home—would be a disaster. Worse than a disaster. For me,” she added, seeing Terrano’s expression. “He’s my etiquette teacher.”
Terrano laughed; the laughter was brief. “You don’t think that’s funny.”
“No. Then again, I’m the one taking the lessons.”
“Doesn’t seem to be much of a teacher.”
Considering the source, Kaylin almost found this insulting.
As if he could read her thoughts, Terrano shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about my manners. There isno wayI’m coming to dinner if the Consort is here.”
Kaylin decided to change the subject. “Mandoran just headed downstairs.”
“Someone stuck in a wall?”
“He didn’t seem to think it was that funny when I asked, which probably means yes. Or worse,” she added. Terrano brightened and drifted—literally—toward the closet that led to the basement.
“I’m worried about Terrano,” Helen told Kaylin when the door itself had closed.
“Worried for him or worried about what he’ll do?”
“He has no intention of harming the Consort. He’s less sanguine about the Arkon, but that’s because he assumes that the Arkon may attempt to harm him. Or his friends. It is not a concern of mine,” she added. “Terrano is...not happy.”
“None of the cohort is particularly happy.”
Helen nodded. Because a messenger had arrived at the door, she’d brought out her physical Avatar. “I’m not certain we’ll be able to keep him.” At Kaylin’s expression, she added, “Unless he means to harm any of my guests—or you—I’m not equipped to be a prison. And even if I had that inclination, Terrano is unusual enough that I’m not up to that task, not for long. He spent most of his life attempting to escape a Hallionne. What he learned over the centuries in the many attempts, I cannot easily counter.
