22
When Yvonne and Teela had been gone for long enough that no words from this platform would reach them, Ollarin turned to Severn.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, his eyes a lighter blue, his lips folded in a smile that would have sat well on Yvonne’s
face. “You’ve been well?”
“I’ve been busy, but should have made time. I’ve seen Yvonne,” he added in what was, for Severn, a shockingly apologetic tone.
“No one cares what an insignificant servant does; everyone watches a new lord,” Ollarin said, nodding. “I assume you did not
visit in the uniform you are now wearing.”
“No. Yvonne left on errands for An’Tellarus, and I met her outside the High Halls. But the court itself has been more openly
hostile in its various faction wars—and the Emperor has noticed.” There was no warning in the tone, but the words carried
it anyway. “Yvonne wasn’t involved, before.”
An’Sennarin’s eyes became a much darker blue, the transformation instant.
“What does this invitation mean?”
Severn fell silent. Kaylin was silent because she was so surprised by the interchange.
What should I say? she asked.
You may tell him the truth; I don’t believe it will harm either Yvonne or the Consort. It may be of aid. Ollarin is, and has
always been, beloved of the elemental water. It was why he was pressed to come to the High Halls, and why, in the end, almost
all of his kin died when he attempted to refuse. He is powerful in his own right. But he does not wish to conquer; he will use his power only in defense of the very few remaining people
for whom he cares.
And Yvonne is one of them.
Severn nodded. Answer as you please. I don’t think, even if he considered you a genuine threat, he could kill you with the tools he has at
hand.
This wasn’t a promising response. “How much do you know about Yvonne’s activities outside Sennarin?” she asked, countering
his question with a question of her own.
An’Sennarin was silent, as if asking himself the questions Kaylin had asked Severn. It wasn’t Kaylin whose opinion he trusted
here. It was Severn. She bit back curiosity; she wanted to know how Severn knew Ollarin.
“She is of my family line; I have adopted her. I am aware of some of her activities—but if An’Tellarus chooses to have Yvonne
participate in activities that would not usually be considered dangerous, I am not always informed beforehand.”
“So she doesn’t need your permission.”
“In theory she does. But you have met An’Tellarus, and if you haven’t spent long in her company, I am certain Severn has told
you all you need to know. I owe her my sanity, if not my life. I owe her Yvonne’s life as well, indirectly; it was An’Tellarus
who took Severn to the West March in search of Yvonne.
“There is some danger to Yvonne when she is not within the High Halls, but I have reason to believe while she is, she is safe. She is safe within the Sennarin quarters; she is safe—possibly safer—while she serves An’Tellarus.
But she is not as we who rule must become.
” These last words were said softly, syllables wrapped around an endless bitterness. “And she liked you.”
“You know about the test of the Lake,” Kaylin said, words flat.
He didn’t even blink. “It is not what you think it is,” he replied, acknowledging the statement. “I, as Lord, did not instruct
or demand that she submit to the test of the Lake, which is the custom in the High Halls. The Barrani have oft viewed the
position of Lady as a political position—or what could be a political position should that power come into the hands of their
familial lines.
“Perhaps you will not believe this, but the Lake reached out to Yvonne. I do not know how. The Lake is not the water—but it
was the water that informed me. Yvonne can touch the water, but she does not hear its voice so clearly as I.”
“When?” Kaylin had a sinking feeling about this.
“Within the past month.”
“Does An’Tellarus know?”
Ollarin hesitated for one breath, as if breath could not be drawn. “She suspects, yes. Yvonne is not skilled at prevarication;
she finds An’Tellarus intimidating. There is a reason An’Tellarus invited you to visit her quarters shortly after your meeting
with the Lady.” He exhaled. “The reason An’Tellarus has retained power for centuries is her lack of predictability. I do not
know what she suspects or expects—but neither do her enemies. Inasmuch as I trust any living Barrani, I trust her with Yvonne’s
safety.
“I have enemies An’Tellarus does not have. But I am not considered a weakness of An’Tellarus’s. No one of power believes that
they can strike at An’Tellarus through me. People of power might otherwise believe that they can strike at Sennarin through
Yvonne.”
And they wouldn’t be wrong.
“Her interest makes clear that there is risk involved in that approach; Yvonne has attended An’Tellarus at public gatherings, and An’Tellarus has made clear that she views the West March urchin with affection.” He grimaced at the last sentence.
Kaylin frowned. “Am I known at court?”
“Of course you are known. You are both Lord of the High Court and mortal. You are Chosen, to those who care about the old
ways and stories; the Marks on your skin, where revealed, cannot be denied. What can be denied is the relevance of those Marks,
but the Arcanists view you with . . . caution, which implies that the Marks have power.”
“And Severn?”
“He is also of interest. He is not Chosen, but he, too, emerged from the Tower. It is Severn’s ownership of the unusual weapon
he wields that makes him significant—and resented. But much of that enmity is centered in the West March. If the Lady did
not obviously favor you, he might be more visible, but there is something about Lord Severn that evades notice.”
“And not me.”
“You are not a quiet presence, no. Even when you are silent, you almost seem to be quivering in place, as if you might burst
into action at any moment. You are protected, to a certain extent, by An’Teela; she is, to you, what An’Tellarus was to me
in my early tenure. An’Teela is even more infamous than An’Tellarus, but not, in my opinion, more dangerous.” He exhaled.
“Yvonne was discovered in the West March—by Lord Severn.
“You may wish to discuss this with him—but not here. Not anywhere in the High Halls. You are aligned with the Consort; she
is political, because she holds that position. But you are also aligned with the Lady, who is not political. She is both of
those people. She cares much for the High Lord and the Lord of the West March. It is not clear to most of the court why she
cares for you, but your political relevance is minor, and your Marks might be of use to her.
“It is your visit to the heart of her quarters, so close to the Lake, that is of interest. And I assume that your interest in Yvonne arises from that. Yvonne will not, and would never, harm the Lady; even if we were born in the West March, it is here, at the seat of our people’s power, that we are wakened.
She has not met the Lady; her position is far, far too low for that.
“What do you intend?” Here, his eyes grew bluer; they weren’t as dark as Teela’s had been, but much closer.
“She intends no harm to Yvonne,” Severn said when Kaylin failed to answer. Kaylin’s failure was tied up in her own sense of
both duty and loyalty; she was torn. She did like Yvonne. But fractured as their friendship had become, she felt a sense of
responsibility for the Consort, the Lady. She’d wanted to meet Yvonne to assess the level of threat to the Consort, and the level of entanglement; to find out if Yvonne was a credible, useful weapon that could be wielded against
one of the few Barrani Kaylin actually liked, cohort excepted.
“I do not command Yvonne, although in theory I have that right. And I believe An’Teela has returned with An’Tellarus’s reply.”
An’Tellarus’s reply was permission. Yvonne, in theory, required it.
“An’Tellarus accepts your invitation,” Yvonne said, speaking so quietly it was almost hard to hear her; there were small chimes,
invisible to the eye beyond the fall of leaves, that sounded periodically—and they were louder.
The invitation hadn’t been extended to An’Tellarus, but the cohort had guessed—correctly—that An’Tellarus would come as guardian,
even if that was An’Sennarin’s technical role.
“She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to have Ollarin come with us.”
Teela nodded. “An’Sennarin is too new, and too untested.
And An’Mellarionne resides with you. An’Tellarus has reached an age where she has proven herself in combat and politics; she can go wherever she wants.
She has ways of making clear both her alliances and her affections; it is her affection that is dangerous to cross.
“An’Sennarin does not have that luxury. If he is in the presence of An’Mellarionne and no blood is shed, assumptions about
his alliances will be made. Sedarias’s enemies are many—far more than Sennarin’s. An’Sennarin has done much to cleanse his
line, and to shed the alliances his previous lord nurtured. He has not done enough, but he has only had decades in which to
do so.
“Sedarias has had months.” Teela exhaled. “An’Tellarus is no fool; she knows. It would be best for all concerned if she did
not insist on chaperoning Yvonne—but she does insist. And in her position, I would insist as well.”
Yvonne flinched, but didn’t argue.
Kaylin agreed. Sending Yvonne on her own would be like sending Serralyn to a meeting of the Lords of the High Court on her
own. It was never going to happen, no matter what preferences were expressed. Terrano would follow her even if every other
person had reluctantly given way.
“Did An’Tellarus demand a different date?”
Yvonne shook her head. “She said the day is up to me.”
“Will you visit tomorrow, then?”
Yvonne nodded.
The Lady wishes to see you again after tomorrow’s meeting with Yvonne. Yvonne should join you. Ynpharion spoke formally. He’d been listening in—of course he had—but hadn’t interrupted once.