“Zezilia Ilar.” I curtseyed as I ought.
His eyes widened suddenly. “Ah, that explains it.”
My stomach sank. Now he would go on about how sad it was that I wasn’t born a male. All of father’s friends did, as if I didn’t wish reality to be different every day. Sure, my family didn’t mention it daily, but I would see it frequently enough in their expressions.
“You are Ostin Ilar’s daughter.” His strange gaze seemed to bore into my eyes. “Has anyone else heard your thoughts before, Donellea Ilar? Your brothers or parents?”
I frowned. “No, Master Silas, I am a female and incapable of projecting.”
At this he laughed. “You incapable? Ha. I have never encountered so much raw projecting talent in anyone. No, just a minute,” he said, raising a rough hand. “I have encountered one.” He looked at me as if considering whether or not I needed a haircut or a certain piece of clothing would suit me. “Yes, it is possible. Given time.” Then suddenly he grinned, giving me a fantastic view of strong, white teeth. “You are going to be my new pupil.”
I was so stunned that I stared. “I am not trainable.”
He frowned. “And why do you say that?” he demanded.
“I have no talent. I am a female.”
Dismissing my statement of fact with a wave of his hand, he shook his head. “That is a ridiculous conclusion. There have been many talented females, just no strong talents. That is why the Sept Son doesn’t bother to have them trained. Why train those who are weak when so many strong need training? Now stop your protesting, child, and show me to your father. I have some things I need to discuss with him.”
Then before I could protest, he turned and began stamping up the path toward the house. I couldn’t let him just walk into the house without an escort. To do so would be horribly rude, so I hurried after him.
For a middle-aged man, he moved quickly. I rushed up the path, pushing aside branches and expecting him to appear ahead of me at each turn. Finally, I spotted him as I cleared the last of the wild brush. He stood out harshly with his red hair and worn robe against the ordered paths and foliage of the formal gardens. He strode along halfway to the house, head high and shoulders squared, as if he owned the gardens. I had to run to reach him.
Just as Master Silas was about to mount the stairs to the promenade, my brother, Renato, rounded the corner of the house and spotted me.
“Zez, Mother has been looking for you everywhere,” he called.
“Just a moment.” I prayed he wouldn’t notice my strange visitor. It was too late.
“Ah, Master Silas,” Renato exclaimed in surprise. He promptly came over and executed a formal salute worthy of a court presentation. “What brings you to our humble home and by the back gardens no less?”
Instead of answering, Master Silas frowned and met my brother’s eyes. Renato of all of us was the fairest. With medium brown hair, gold dusted by the summer sun, and golden eyes, he resembled a young lion at times. However the look of confusion that crossed his face beneath the older man’s gaze made him appear anything but noble.
“No,” he blurted out, confirming my conclusion that a sending had passed between the two of them. All of my brothers possessed both of the talents in abundance. That was why there had been such hope for me, if I had only been a son.
“You mean none of you have ever suspected?” Errol’s voice brought my attention to him. A thoughtful look passed over his face.
“No, she has never given any indication.” My brother glanced at me. “Father is not going to like this.”
“Well, he is going to have to do something about it whether or not he likes it.”
“You don’t understand.” Renato ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of agitation. “She was supposed to be the son, the one that restored our family honor. Bringing this up now will only agitate him. His dreams are gone, past, this will only...”
Silas lifted a hand and Renato’s attention snapped to him. Unheard words passed between them even as I watched. My brother frowned, but reluctant resignation fell over him.
Renato lowered his head. “Very well, I will bring you to him.” He frowned over at me. “Mother has all the upper floor maids turning out the house for you. I suggest you find her before she decides to search the male quarters of the palazzo.” Bowing to Master Silas again, he said, “This way, Master. My father is in his rooms.”
Before following, Master Silas turned to me. I must have looked as confused as I felt, for he said, “Don’t worry, child.” He touched my forehead and a single word popped into my thoughts, “peace.” The sensation was strange. It was as though someone had placed a piece of fresh plum on my tongue, sweet and juicy, except my mouth was empty.
My eyes widened.
The man smiled, his strange green eyes dancing. “I told you, child.” Then he turned and strode away. I simply stared after him. So, that was what receiving felt like.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Mother demanded as I appeared in her bedroom.
“The gardens,” I replied. Mother only nodded before issuing orders. The maids clicked their tongues over my grubby feet and scolded me for the dirt under my nails, but I paid them no attention. “Mother, have there ever been female talents?” My presentation dress dropped over my head and fell in smooth folds to my ankles.
Mother paused a fraction of a second in her flurried rushing to inspect
