Page 26 of Morel Dilemma

“You’re Rylana Avandar, aren’t you? I remember you running around outside our castle without pants.”

Rylana blinked a few times as she tried to place the woman, but she couldn’t imagine she’d been more than a few years old at the time she might have engaged in such an activity.

“Without pants?” Zilek asked with amusement. “Such as in a dress?”

“Such as half naked,” the woman said.

Zilek looked speculatively toward Rylana’s lower half. Fortunately, her dress covered that area respectably now.

“After her mother died,” the woman continued, “and her father refused to hire a maid to care for the children, they were like wild animals roaming the neighborhood.”

“This is Lady Evalla Mistika,” Zilek said, taking pity on Rylana’s failing memory.

“Oh!” Rylana had been quite young when she’d visited their estate with her brother. “Dylina’s older sister, right?”

“Of course.”

“Your estate has the great swimming dock with the slide and diving board.” Rylana turned to Zilek to explain her lack of pants at the time. “All the kids in the neighborhood went there in the summers. And we were in swimming suits, not inappropriately nude.”

“You leaped off the diving board and gyrated so wildly in the air that yours was pushed askew when you landed, and you hardly cared, letting all the boys view your indecent areas.”

“I don’t think my indecent areas were that developed and interesting to look at when I was six.” Nonetheless, her cheeks warmed, possibly because Zilek was considering her lower regions with a smirk. “I can’t believe you remember all that.”

Rylana only vaguely recalled the older siblings who’d been tasked with keeping an eye on the younger children to ensure nobody drowned in the lake.

“Yerin has recently reminded me of your youth and informed me that you schemed to help your dragon chef win his contest.” Evalla frowned tartly in Jildarin’s direction, though she hadn’t been brave enough to stomp over and make accusations to his face.

“The Golden Whisk wasn’t Yerin’s contest,” Rylana said. “And he was the one scheming.”

“A Molingvar would never resort to that. He’s educated and civilized. He didn’t run off to be a mercenary in some southern war of dubious origins. A mercenary. A paid thug. A sellsword available to the highest bidder. A venal hireling.”

“I’m delighted you brought your thesaurus to the wine tasting,” Rylana murmured.

“And Lord Avandar isn’t much better,” Evalla surprised her by saying, then lifted a hand to flag down another woman who’d recently arrived.

“That is Lady Devra,” Zilek said. “The companion of which I spoke.”

“Our landlord’s wife?”

“Yes.”

“Devra, this is the one I told you about.” Evalla pointed at Rylana.

She grimaced. What was this? Thanks to Yerin, all the high-society types were aware of her and gossiping about her? No, Devra frowned darkly. This had to do with more than gossip.

“To think, I was looking forward to returning to Tranquility and reacquainting myself with those I grew up with,” Rylana said, not for the first time of late.

The new woman strode over, brown hair in ringlets that bounced about the shoulders of a crimson velvet dress. She had pale skin, a plump figure, and green eyes slitted in irritation.

“Once you’ve left the cave of your youth, you may hunt again with your clan, but you can never return to the nest from whence you came,” Zilek said.

Rylana looked at him.

“A dragon saying,” he offered.

Still pointing at Rylana, Evalla said, “This is another of the Avandar children. Like everyone else in the family, she also adores money.”

“Uhm.” Rylana lifted a finger to protest.