Ynpharion didn’t respond—but he didn’t berate, either.
Kaylin turned to Ollarin and offered him a formal bow at odds with her uniform.
“I trust you with something precious, Lord Kaylin.” He opened his mouth, no doubt to add a warning, but closed it again before he spoke the words. He returned the bow she had offered and then offered the same gesture to both Teela and Severn. Teela returned a nod, which was proper etiquette.
“No harm will come to her while I am present,” Severn said, offering assurance instead of respect.
It was the assurance An’Sennarin desired.
Kaylin turned to Yvonne. “See you tomorrow.”
In spite of the color of her eyes, Yvonne managed a smile.
Helen was waiting by the open door when Kaylin, Severn, and Teela arrived.
Sedarias was in high dudgeon, but from Kaylin’s perspective, this only meant she was silent. Given Mandoran’s and Terrano’s expressions, she wasn’t silent on the inside of their heads, butKaylin didn’t ask. Terrano, on the other hand, was willing to share.
“They’re having an argument about what you should wear. If it were just Yvonne, no one would care. But it’s An’Tellarus, and it’s your house, so you’re going to be judged by the quality of your hospitality.”
Kaylin wasn’t of a mind to put on a show to impress An’Tellarus. An’Tellarus was there as guardian or high-powered guard; she wasn’t the actual invitee.
“No, dear, but Sedarias’s concerns are not without merit. You have a few Barrani dresses, and if they are not suitable, I can create a dress you could wear. It will not persist should you be forced, for an unforeseen reason, to leave the premises.”
Not, given unexpected emergencies, the smart choice. “I’ll think about it.”
“Teela is arguing against, if that’s any help.” Terrano’s grin was followed by a wince.
“How’s the rest of the vote going?”
“Most of us don’t care what you wear. You’re mortal. She’s not going to expect you to be full-on Lord of the High Court. The problem is, shecantake offense in a political fashion. You’ve got no traction on the High Court. You do have friends. One of them has just arrived from the West March—and he has proclaimed youkyuthe. Oh: you need to find the ring he gave you, no matter what else you wear.”
“Teela,” Mandoran added, “says you’re wasting Kaylin’s time, and she might need it if she can’t find the damn ring immediately.”
Kaylin expected dinner, if the cohort came down at all, to be more of the same. She headed up the stairs toward Annarion’s chambers, and was met by Andellen, who was on the way down.
“No change?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I have information for An’Teela, and one or two interviews to conduct.”
She looked at his sword. “Will they end in bloodshed?”
“Not in the type of bloodshed that would justify the interest of the Imperial Hawks, no.” Meaning he was off to talk to Barrani. “An’Mellarionne has provided me with two possible leads and several family names. An’Teela, when she is not visiting the High Halls, has been investigating some of them.”
Kaylin could guess where Sedarias had pulled some of the names from. She grimaced. Why did things always get so complicated when Barrani were involved? This was petty, and she knew it. But she’d never been one for jewelry and now had to find—and wear—a very large, very expensive ring. Finding it came first.
He’s not even going to be here, she said, sharing her pettiness with the only person whose namebond Helen never blocked.
It’s not meant for him. It’s meant for An’Tellarus to see. She will understand what it signifies. Sedarias believes it will change the way she approaches you or perhaps cause her to pause.
You don’t.
No. But I have some familiarity with An’Tellarus. If anything, it’s likely to make you more interesting, not less—and you’re Chosen, so you’re already interesting enough.
But you’re not telling me not to wear it.
If we had no cause to return to the High Halls for some time, I’d tell you it’s not worth it. But that’s not going to happen unless and until we can resolve the Consort’s difficulty with the Lake. The ring is likely to have the desired effect on Barrani whoaren’t An’Tellarus. The Lord of the West March is now in the High Halls.
“Severn is right, dear.” Helen exhaled, which implied her expression; only her voice was in the room with Kaylin. Hope had surrendered his perch on her shoulder because she’d been crawling under the bed. Her old apartment had a floorboardthat could be lifted, and a hollow space beneath it where one could hide important things.