Iriset opens her mouth to speak, but her hand is still cupped in his, and she can’t breathe very well as understanding batters against her lust.
“I startled her,” the man says, abashed.
Garnet strides to the fountain, tearing off a section of the red cloth mask that flutters at the side of his head. Iriset staresat him, the better to avoid glancing anywhere else. He rinses it, wets it again, and brings it over, scowl carefully modulated.
“Thank you,” says Lyric méra Esmail His Glory. Then the Vertex Seal gently dabs blood from Iriset’s skin.
Lyric presses the cloth to her palm, holding it there. Iriset clutches at her vellum, her charcoal stick trapped against the material, likely smudging her roses. When he raises his eyes to hers, Iriset immediately drops her gaze. She can’t tug the end of her mask across her face because both her hands are extremely occupied.
“You’re Iriset mé Isidor,” the Vertex Seal says. “I’m very glad to meet you finally. My sister and Ambassador Erxan, and even my mother, speak well of you.”
“Oh.” It’s all she can manage. And breathy at that.
Rising force dominates his inner design. It lifts the design around him, lightening her thoughts: She’s dizzy, dazed.
“What are you drawing?”
Iriset gently frees her hand from his and offers him the vellum book. “Flowers,” she says, eyes safely on his hands as he accepts the book and smooths two graceful fingers along the edge of the vellum.
“You’re very detailed,” he says.
“Details are where the design appears.” Thank Silence she can finally complete a sentence.
“Do you see knots or hints of the larger patterns of Holy Design when you study these smallest creatures?”
“I haven’t looked for larger patterns, Your Glory,” she says softly. Lying. Demure. She is not Silk. She cannot have this man.
The silence stretches between them, and Iriset draws careful breaths both to balance herself—to pull inward and away fromhis strong rising force—and to hide the depth of her uncertainty. It is too easy to sit beside him. He held her hand and holds still much worse within his purview. Her father’s future. The entire empire’s future! She’s too off-balance from her morning with the Moon-Eater. How could she have let this happen today of all days? She’s unprepared to coax him, to be sweet or even figure out the best approach to his sympathy.
“You draw with Erxan,” Lyric says.
“That is how I met the ambassador, yes. I get along well with him.”
“And he with you. He believes Singix will like you.”
Iriset wants to cheer,Yes, yes, bring me closer to you, but she only lowers her eyes. This man, this Vertex Seal, will marry Singix of the Beautiful Twilight. “Erxan speaks highly of her. I hope I can have the chance to be liked by someone like her.”
In the quiet following, Iriset glances up. He’s watching her with a tiny frown. She couldn’t have said anything wrong.
Finally, the Vertex Seal says, “May I ask a favor of you, Iriset?”
“You do not need to ask, but only command, Your Glory.” She struggles to keep the words from biting. To remain soothing and soft.
Lyric pauses. He turns a page in her vellum book, revealing an elaborate drawing of butterfly wings. Next, the repeating patterns of stars in the lattice of her bedchamber window. Next, a study of a coiled stem of needle sage. Next, repeating curves of flow force, like waves, with tiny numbers counting off the rhythm of that strange almost-breath Iriset hears humming through the palace architecture at night.
There the Vertex Seal stops. His posture is so very straight, as if even in repose he can’t relax his design. “I would prefer to ask, as my question is of a personal rather than princely design.”
A thrill of ecstatic sparks in her, helping her resettle herself like a rock tossed into a still pool. He wants a favor from her. “Ask, then, Your Glory,” she murmurs.
“My sister has always judged people well. Though your provenance is obviously questionable, I have yet to be wrong when I trust Amaranth’s opinion.”
He pauses to look at her.
Iriset quickly looks down. “Her Glory saved me. I can only balance her trust with trustworthiness.”
“Yes.” The Vertex Seal adds no more.
“You… have a favor to ask, Your Glory?”
