They returned to An’Tellarus’s carriage, which then returned to the Halls of Law. No words were spoken, but the texture of the silences that crowded this carriage were different. Elluvian was angry. An’Tellarus was content. Ybelline was introspective. Severn observed.
Neither Severn nor Elluvian had killed in pursuit of the Emperor’s target; there would be no Tha’alani summoned to review the events. This much, Severn understood.
An’Tellarus did not leave her carriage again. Her silence persisted for the duration of the ride to the Halls of Law’s coach yard. Severn and Elluvian exited, Elluvian with more grace but far more speed.
Ybelline began to disembark. An’Tellarus shook her head. “Not you. You shall remain in my carriage until we reach the Tha’alani quarter.”
“We’re her escort,” Severn began. He fell silent at the lift of a dismissive, imperious hand.
“I will take her.”
Elluvian was not pleased. He turned to Ybelline. “If the Tha’alanari gives the requisite permissions, we will allow this; if they do not, we will escort you. Without An’Tellarus.”
“The requisite permission has been granted by the castelord,” she finally replied. “He is willing to entrust An’Tellarus with my safety at the present time.” She then turned to the Barrani noble. “It is not necessary, An’Tellarus.”
“Perhaps not for you. But I gave my solemn word—and you may ask Elluvian how rare that is—that I would see you to the quarter.”
Ybelline turned to face Severn through the open door. Her eyes were hazel, not green, but she looked exhausted. “We will accept any decision you choose to make.”
“Decisions,” Elluvian almost snapped, “of any relevance are not made by probationary Wolves.”
To Severn’s surprise, Ybelline smiled at Elluvian. It was perhaps the first time Severn had seen a smile so warm used as a blunt disagreement.
Rosen had returned, and now manned her desk. She looked up as they entered. “Helmat is speaking with the Hawklord,” she told Elluvian.
“In person?”
“Yes, actually.”
“I give you permission,” Elluvian said to Severn, “to return to your home. It is late, and the meeting not likely to be brief.”
Severn said nothing. The nothing stretched until Elluvian turned toward the hall that led to the Wolflord’s office. “You will do me the kindness of remembering that I did make the offer.”
When Helmat entered the office, he took one look at Rosen’s face and decided a frosty, angry Lord of Hawks was preferable to what was likely to follow.
“They’re back, are they?”
Rosen nodded.
“And in one piece?”
“They’re entirely uninjured. I guess it is possible for Elluvian to traverse the High Halls without giving offense to the Barrani Lords who inhabit it.”
“Are they in my office or En’s?”
“Your office.”
Helmat cursed. “At this hour of the day?”
“They chose to wait. Elluvian is well aware of how long face-to-face meetings can take; he knows you only ask to meet in person when you’re likely to say things you’d prefer not be immediately recorded.”
“The private chose to remain as well?”
She nodded. “He’s interesting,” she said. “Sometimes he’s so still you can forget he’s there. It’s like he has no desire to be seen, or known, at all.”
“Unlike Darrell?”
Rosen grimaced. “Unlike Darrell. Darrell’s death wasn’t your fault.”