“Your sister has failed to make a report.”
“She is incapable of making a report,” Sedarias replied with a shrug. “But waiting teaches patience, or so I was taught as a child.” Her smile was hard, harsh. “Were you sent to test my capabilities?”
“I was sent to deliver the Consort’s gift. I have neither the desire nor the ability to test you; nor do I have the arrogance required. Word will have reached Coravante.”
“The carriage?” Kaylin asked.
“Indeed. But that word is limited, and if your domicile has truly cleansed it of enchantment, he will know only that he is once again blind. He will not hear any conversation we have, and what he hears of it he cannot sift for truth—or lies.”
“You do not wish to implicate your father.”
“I do not wish to lose him, no. But I have been unable to reach my sister, and she has been groomed to be An’Veranelle in future. My father is deeply involved in Mellarionne’s concerns.”
“You feel too deeply.”
“It has never been wise, or safe, to put the interests of one’s line into a single alliance. My father is not the only Lord of the High Court to choose to ally themselves with Mellarionne, but such an alliance has been—until very recently—a subtle thing. Subtlety, however, has been forsaken. I do not know the full measure of the threat you pose, but Coravante has survived two wars and all attempts to unseat him; he is one of the oldest surviving members of the High Court. He does not consider the High Lord or the Lady to be a significant threat or danger.
“It is you he fears.”
“What is it you hope for, Lord Bressarian?”
“I wish to know what has happened to Lord Fianora.”
“Only that?”
“I will safeguard and steward my line. But we were never meant to flirt with the edges of the Shadows; I believe there is a reason that the Towers stand where they stand.”
“You think your father is working with the Shadows?” Kaylin demanded.
“I did not say that,” was his smooth—and slightly irritated—reply. “That would be an act of treason, and we are not a treasonous line.”
Sedarias turned the force of her glare on Kaylin. She didn’t tell Kaylin to shut up, but the words were suddenly superfluous. Kaylin shut up.
“Lord Coravante has not answered your queries.”
“He has. Fianora is indisposed, and he has offered her the solace and care of his personal quarters while she recuperates.”
“She has not accepted visitors.”
“Not kin, no. I wish her returned, if she is what she was.”
“And if she is not?”
He did not answer, not directly. “It is in the fief of Candallar that Coravante’s messengers and lieges meet if they wish distance from the eyes of the Court.”
Sedarias nodded, as if unsurprised. Which she was.
“I do not know what you are,” he said. “I do not know what you learned or did not learn; I do not know what theregaliafashioned of you. I know the history, but that history is barely better than story or legend. I would give it no credence were it not for the unusually visceral reaction of your brother.
“It is his hand that moves the High Court now. It was at his command that the war band approached the Imperial Palace. If the High Lord favors you, it will not save you.”
“We have very seldom relied on others for salvation,” Sedarias replied.
“You are to take the Test of Name.”
She nodded.
“Pass it, become Lord Sedarias, and in return for the safety of my line, I will pledge my service to you.”
