“Which isn’t an answer. If I wanted to know what Helen thought, I’d ask her.”
“He does have the clothing the Consort offered the cohort. If she hadn’t offered, we’d have to have someone go in person. I trust you understand why the latter is a terrible idea.”
“I do now.”
“And he’s not lying. He came to deliver the clothing the Consort deemed necessary and suitable. Given the amount of cloth and the style of dress, I’m assuming that every servant in the High Halls capable of sewing has been doing nothing else since her visit.”
“And the dirt on the carriage comment?”
“I was trying to be passive-aggressive. I didn’t expect him to agree to have the carriage cleaned—technically it’s not even his, given the crest. It’s Mellarionne’s.”
“Sedarias is not happy,” Helen said, interrupting the conversation. “She would like to speak with Bressarian in person. Do you consider this safe?”
It took Kaylin a moment to realize Helen was talking toher. Which was confusing since Helen made most of the safety decisions when it came to strange magic and unnatural forms of aggression. “Yes.” This wasn’t strictly true, butsafehad many meanings, and Sedarias was already angry enough for an entire squadron. Or ten.
“Sedarias is coming,” Helen informed them. “Bellusdeo, however, has elected to remain in the training room for the time being. The rest of the cohort has chosen to stay with her.”
Lord Bressarian was escorted to the parlor, which had changed in shape, size and contents to better suit a Barrani Lord of the High Court. Kaylin wasn’t certain she approved. It wasn’t his home; it was hers. But she understood the need to impress; she just resented it.
Teela and Tain accompanied him; Annarion and Mandoran slipped away to join the rest of the cohort. Terrano was quiet and seemed, to Kaylin, almost exhausted. He headed toward the stairs that led to the room he was now sharing with Teela, but Mandoran grabbed him by the arm and dragged him in the direction of the rest of the group.
Severn retreated, as well, but in a different direction. He didn’t call it a retreat, either. “There’s something I need to check.” She knew that tone of voice. It was like a friendly wall. She wasn’t surprised when he headed out of the house, and she didn’t ask him where he was going, because there was no point. He wouldn’t answer.
“Your carriage,” Helen was saying as Kaylin entered the room, familiar on her shoulder and Spike in her hand, “has been cleaned.”
“You have my gratitude,” Bressarian replied, glancing at Kaylin. His gaze moved as Sedarias entered the room. Allaron was the only member of the cohort to accompany her, but his unusual size made his presence significant. His position—at a respectful distance behind Sedarias—implied that he was there to serve. And protect. Definitely protect.
Although Helen’s clothing wasn’t useful if one wanted to walk past the property’s boundaries and not end up butt naked, it was nonetheless convenient in other ways. Sedarias looked every inch a powerful Barrani lord. Her presence implied that the Test of Name would be an irrelevant formality. Kaylin understood why the current leader of Mellarionne considered her to be such a threat.
To Kaylin’s surprise, Bressarian stood and tendered Sedarias a graceful, perfect bow. He rose before she granted him permission to rise, which was the only thing that saved the gesture from being obsequious. Kaylin didn’t understand. She thought she would never understand the Barrani.
Interesting.
My lack of understanding or his bow?
Ynpharion didn’t answer.
“Lord Bressarian,” Sedarias said when he rose. She hadn’t bowed, and her posture made clear she wouldn’t. Her eyes were blue, but weren’t any darker than his.
“Sedarias. So. It is true. You are here.”
“I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. You serve my brother?”
“I serve my father,” he replied. “And my father serves the An’Mellarionne.”
Very interesting.
Care to explain?
No. Don’t distract me.
“Your father is Lord Lorimar, son of Lord Samariel. Lord Samariel was An’Veranelle when I was selected to go to the green; he did not survive the final war.”
He nodded.
“There are not many lines preserved through direct descent. Lord Lorimar is to be respected for holding his line. You are heir?”
“No. My sister is heir. I am the son of the second wife.” Which was why, Kaylin thought, he’d been sent on what amounted to a delivery errand.
