And, because people were strange, it seemed to comfort Ynpharion. Kaylin was never, ever going to understand him.
The Consort grabbed Kaylin’s right arm. “Please—let’s join them.” She spoke Elantran. Her expression was almost exuberant; it made Kaylin feel old.
Green eyes encountered a field of emerald green as Kaylin led the Consort to the parlor; she couldn’t retrieve her arm and half suspected that the Consort knew she wanted to be anywhere else. And in any other clothing. But when the Consort had fully entered the room, she did disengage.
Kaylin immediately began introductions, starting with the oldest person present, who had risen from his chair as if to remind Kaylin that introductions were necessary. “Arkon,” she said, “may I introduce you to the Consort?”
He bowed, Barrani-style. The Consort returned that bow, but she held it longer, and when she rose, her eyes were bright. Kaylin was half-afraid she would run across the room and take the Arkon’s hands, which annoyed Ynpharion; his expression remained composed bland. She did not introduce Emmerian, but Emmerian had made clear that he, like Ynpharion, was here to work. He was a guard, and guards didn’t get named in front of the actual guests; they were like armor or weapons. Or like the armor or weapons Kaylin carried; Teela’s weapon had a name.
Kaylin didn’t know what it was.
Ynpharion was now so heavily on alert he didn’t supply the name, either. It was clear to the visitors that Emmerian was a Dragon, and there were no Dragons who were not Lords of the Dragon Court, with the possible exception of Bellusdeo.
You’re a Lord of the High Court and you’re here as a guard. Why should Dragons be any different? They’re here for precisely the same reason you are.
He didn’t answer, which was just as well. Kaylin had no difficulty introducing Bellusdeo, whose presence also seemed to delight the Consort.
When it came to the cohort, however, they both stiffened. The choice of emerald green had seemed a little too political to Kaylin; it seemed alottoo political now. But she hadn’t argued against it—her ears were still ringing with Sedarias’s etiquette criticisms—and therefore accepted the awkward that followed. What she wasreallyafraid of was Sedarias’s judgment. While Diarmat had the louder voice and the more imperious tone, he wasn’t actuallyatany of the occasions in which she tried to apply his lessons. Sedarias was.
While her expression was elegant, genial, even welcoming, her eyes were the same shade of blue as Ynpharion’s. She was, however, perfect in her response; her bow was the correct depth, and it lasted the correct length of time; she did not wait to rise, but did not offer insult by shortening the gesture.
The Consort remained standing while Kaylin cycled through each member of the cohort. She started with Sedarias, and ended with Annarion. Terrano was the most awkward, because helookedlike what he really wanted to do was throw himself at her feet and spend the rest of the evening on the ground. He could no longer hear Sedarias—or any of the rest of his kin—and had to settle with a muted clearing of throat on the part of the woman who led the cohort in most things.
He bowed instead, but even that was awkward; he held the bow for far too long, and did not rise until the Consort bid him do so.
The only other awkward introduction was Tain’s, and it was awkward because Tain’s chosen form of address? “Corporal Korrin.”
It was his rank in the Hawks. Sedarias felt it entirely inappropriate; being introduced as Tain of Korrin would have been acceptable. His response still rankled some of the cohort; he was proud of the rank of corporal. This implied many, many things, and Kaylin, too busy with panic, had failed to consider all of them.
Until, again, now.
This was going to have to stop. It washerhouse. She had some say in what occurred beneath her own roof. She had been afraid that she didn’t understand enough to be able to make smart decisions—but that was ignorance, and ignorance could be changed.
“May I offer you a drink?” she asked.
The Consort smiled. “I’m most curious about what the Arkon is drinking.”
“It is meant for Dragons,” Helen said. “Mortals would consider it poison. I am less certain about the effect on Barrani, as none of my Barrani guests have expressed a desire to try.”
“Then perhaps I will not—not while I am here. If it disagrees with me, it might cause difficulties that I do not intend.” She smiled at the Avatar, and Kaylin remembered that the Hallionne all adored the Consort. “There will, no doubt, be difficulties that arise out of my own hopes and fears, and they will be more than enough.”
A chair moved—untouched—to the Consort’s back, and the Consort sat. It was not a throne, of course; it was a chair, and even if it was a very fine, very expensive-looking chair, all of Kaylin’s guests—the seated ones, at any rate—occupied chairs its equal.
Ynpharion and the unnamed Barrani lord chosen to accompany him took up positions by the parlor door, which caused a minor—and nonvocal—negotiation with the Dragon who was also in that position. In the end, the Barrani guards chose to stand side by side to the right of the doors as one entered, and Emmerian stood to the left.
Silence descended on the room, and Kaylin’s stomach clenched. If it continued for much longer, it was Kaylin’s responsibility to break it—pleasantly, in a way that implied delight and contained almost no information beyond that.
The Consort came to her rescue before she could take up the most nerve-racking of her duties. “I cannot help but notice that you have chosen the colors that you wear without regard to your familial lines.”
“We are none of us, save only Teela, the rulers of our lines.” It was Sedarias who replied. Of course it was. “We are not yet Lords of the High Court, and while it is true that our families have their colors, it might be considered presumptuous for those who are not of sufficient rank to wear those colors in the presence of the Consort.”
“Oh?” The Consort smiled; her eyes tinted slightly toward the blue, but only slightly. “Considered presumptuous by who?”
Be wary, Ynpharion told Kaylin, his interior voice sharp.
Chapter 7
Sedarias clearly did not need Ynpharion’s warning. She fell silent for a beat longer than necessary. But she didn’t look away from the Consort’s friendly gaze.
