“I am unaware of how much is understood by the Eternal Emperor. I believe the basics must have been made clear in the negotiations that followed the end of the final war; I believe it is the reason the capital of the Barrani is considered Elantra—a city overrun otherwise by every conceivable race. In any other circumstance, both the Dragons and the Barrani would expect to relocate. Even when the High Halls came under attack, it was the Dragon Court that came to our aid, and we do not consider ourselves part of the Emperor’s hoard.”
The Arkon said nothing, but he did smile. It was the type of smile, to Kaylin’s surprise, that he offered Bellusdeo; he’d certainly never smiled at Kaylin like that. But Kaylin was a private, a Hawk. Bellusdeo and the Consort were, as the Consort had pointed out, the respective mothers of their race; they were their races’ futures.
“Very well, Lady,” the Arkon said, executing a bow that would have made even Diarmat proud. “I am honored by your trust, if somewhat surprised by it.”
Not, judging from Mandoran’s expression—before he shuttered it—as much as the cohort themselves were.
The Consort turned to Kaylin. “Lord Kaylin, you are mortal and, by the strict rule of our ancient laws, a Lord of the Court. Nonetheless, I wish you to now discuss what you observed when you undertook—and passed—the Test of Name.”
There was a beat of silence.
It was filled by Teela. “No.”
Kaylin turned to Teela—it was easier to meet her gaze, even blue as it was. “It makes sense,” she said. “I’m mortal. I’m human. No one expects me to follow the etiquette of a Court I don’t even understand. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, given how much Barrani look down on the rest of us, if I talked. I was never told not to speak about what I witnessed.”
“And yet you haven’t spoken of it. Why?”
“Because it involves—” She snapped her jaw shut. It involved the High Lord. It involved the former Consort—the High Lord’s mother. It involved the failure of the most highly placed person at Court. Kaylin wasn’t a complete fool; had she been, she would never have survived Barren. No one at her level talked about the weaknesses or foibles of people who could crush her like an ant.
Yes, in theory, laws existed to prevent that. But laws existed to prevent murders, too, and they still happened.
“Exactly,” Teela snapped, sounding more like a sergeant than the corporal she was.
“You understand,” Kaylin said to the Consort, “that the laws don’t work that way? If you tellmeto break the law, and you have a reasonable chance of expecting obedience, you’re complicit in the breaking.”
“If the laws you imply I would be breaking were meant for Elantrans, that would be true,” was the serene reply. “It is also true that the request—and it is a request, An’Teela, a preference, not a command—can be considered insulting.”
“At best,” Teela snapped. “And if you have a preference, Lady, so do I. I ask Lord Kaylin to consider her own interests and her own safety before acceding to whatis, no matter how prettily worded, an insult.”
To Kaylin’s surprise, Ynpharion agreed. With Teela.
“You are the only person present at the table who might understand what I hope to achieve,” the Consort said. “Leaving aside Lord Kaylin, of course, who will understand both what I hope to achieve, and the very visceral desire that itbeachieved at all. And you will not have a hand in it, in the end; it is with your friends, none of whom have faced the Test of Name—and all that that implies—that all hope lies.”
“And you will not speak of it?”
“No. And, An’Teela, neither will you.”
Kaylin cringed. Because that?Thatwas a command. The silence that followed was an angry one. Kaylin rushed in to fill it, which caused Tain—and only Tain—to wince. Severn’s expression was neutral and impassive.
“They’re going to need you. You’re the head of your line. You’re a Lord of the High Court and you have an almost impeccable history. As far as I can tell, your enemies are mostly dead. No one is going to challenge you for whatever it is you hold. You’re powerfulenoughthat you can be an Imperial Hawk. While the cohort is struggling politically, you are theonlymember who can anchor them.”
“You think she hasn’t spoken of the Test of Name?” Terrano asked. Terrano, the only person who couldn’t actually hear Teela when she chose to speak privately through the bond of True Names.
“I’m sure she hasn’t,” Kaylin answered, because she was. Kaylin knew that she herself would have talked, but she wasn’t Teela.
Sedarias nodded, grim now. “She has argued consistently against any of us making the attempt to pass that test at this time. She has, however, given us no concrete reasons.” And clearly, this lack of reason was not to Sedarias’s liking. “In the absence of concrete reasons, we have attempted to theorize.”
“Of course,” the Consort replied, as if this were only to be expected. Then again, it was Sedarias speaking, so it probably was. She turned, once again, to Kaylin.
And Kaylin turned, internally, to Ynpharion.
Why, he demanded,do you seek my counsel in this?
Because you don’t like it, either.
I dislike almost everything you do.
No, you dislike almost everything Iam. But where the Consort is concerned, you’ve mostly given grudging approval. You didn’t want her here. I didn’t want her here. Neither of us had any choice.
