“As you suspect, the Arkon—the current Arkon—has asked that you be relieved of your normal duties for the next three days. Sergeant Hassan was practically red-eyed when he mirrored with the news—you will definitely need to find him a new desk.”
“I wish the Halls of Law were a sentient building,” Kaylin muttered. “Finding new desks stretches the departmental budget, and it’s extra work no one needs.”
Kaylin ate as she attempted to come up with an appropriate invitation.
Sedarias would have been standing over her shoulder for the entirety of lunch had Helen not intervened. Helen didn’t approve of writing while at the lunch table.
In the end, it was Severn who came to her rescue.
Yvonne’sfrom the West March. Her parents aren’t lords of that distant court, and certainly not Lords of the High Court. Formal invitations would be highly unusual, and receiving one would be... not an insult, but a form of command. They’d imply a formal acknowledgment of the difference in power.
I’m a Lord of the High Court.
Yes. But you’re human, and you’re my partner. You’re a Hawk. Yvonne won’t expect a formal invitation. I’m not sure she’d know what to do with one.
But An’Tellarus might?
If you send a correct formal invitation, An’Tellarus will assumeyou’re working for a Barrani Lord. If she assumes that, she’ll feel free to interfere.
Given what she was like, she’ll feel free to interfere anyway.
He chuckled.True. But intervention takes many forms. I don’t think she’ll be offended; she won’t expect nearly as much from, I’m sorry, a mortal.
Kaylin held up a hand to catch the cohort’s attention. “I’ll deliver the letter myself.”
“Teela will break your legs.” This was Terrano, who was remarkably cheerful about it.
“Then Teela can deliver it. I’m a Hawk; she’s a Hawk. The entire High Court knows that. She does what she wants—and she’s clearly survived it. It’d be less political if it was Teela.”
Mandoran snorted. “Sure. Less political. You really don’t understand the Barrani, do you? It could be the most innocent letter in existence, and the Barrani would still consider it political.”
“Teela has way less to lose,” Kaylin snapped back. “If she can’t handle a letter delivery, she wouldn’t have survived being a Hawk.” Her arms were folded as she glared at Mandoran.
Terrano snorted. “What? She’s right.”
I will deliver it, Severn said.
No way.
We’re partners. I’ll take the letter.
You’re a human.
I’m a Lord of the High Court—we became lords at the same time. If you insist on carrying it yourself, we go as beat partners.
“Someone arguing with you?” Terrano asked, grinning. “I know exactly what that’s like.”
“He’s not shouting at me, and he’s not cursing,” Kaylin replied.
“There’d probably be a lot of cursing if Helen wasn’t gatekeeping.” His grin grew smugger.
Kaylin shrugged. It was true. But keeping Ynpharion out of the time-sensitive discussions was the best policy. It’s not likehe wouldn’t have access to her if she left her home. She even understood it, now: he was worried. Hehatedto rely on Kaylin for anything, but accepted—barely—that the Consort did. And Kaylin was better than other Barrani. Probably because Ynpharion thought she’d be easier to kill if things got messy.
“He does not think that,” Helen told her gently. “He could not kill you without the Consort’s express permission, and he knows she will never give it. If she made no attempt on your life when she felt the world—hers, and ours—was at terrible risk, there is no circumstance under which she would do so.” Helen lifted a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Imelda is correct.”
“About what?”
“I live in a house full of youthful vigor and passion.”