the family.'
Dregaul let go of her arm then and stepped back, shaking his head.
'When are you going to learn that the most important job of any one of us in the family is the preservation of the House? You act out of some noble sense of grandeur, you and your brother, when you should be weighing every action in terms of its effects on House Matrell.'
As she listened to her uncle's words, Emriana's sorrow and guilt began to transform into anger. She eyed her uncle with disdain, a look he did not fail to notice. She didn't care.
'With you, it's always the House you're worried most about, rather than the people living under its roof. Sometimes, I think you care more for the name itself than those of us who bear it.'
Dregaul got a dangerous glitter in his eye then. He raised one eyebrow and asked, 'And do you not think the House is more important than the individuals who are a part of it? Do you not see that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts?'
'Not when such an attitude means that everyone who is a part of that whole is reduced to misery and sadness. Do you really care that Grandmother Hetta was wounded tonight? Or are you merely concerned with the damage the attack has done to our reputation?'
Dregaul's slap was so sudden, Emriana didn't even react to it for a second or two. She merely blinked, taking a moment to register that it had, in fact, occurred. She felt her eyes grow wide, and she brought her hand up to feel her cheek.
'Don't you ever speak that way to me again,' the man standing in front of Emriana said quietly, coldly. 'I… will… not… tolerate it.' He stared straight into her eyes, unblinking. 'Do you understand me? If you ever do, I will have you beaten.'
Dregaul's words shocked Emriana so completely that she didn't even react to them. She merely stared at her uncle, open-mouthed, and tried to make some sense of his threat. He would have her beaten? Beaten? Finally, she was about to ask him just who in the Nine Hells he thought he was, but he didn't give her a chance.
'Now, we're going to go back outside to your party and see if we can salvage some of the evening. You are going to walk out there with me, stand quietly by my side, and smile when I say smile,' Dregaul instructed his niece. 'If you so much as make one wrong face to my guests, I will have house guards take you below. Are we clear?'
Emriana considered arguing, showing Dregaul how defiant she could be, but at the mention of the house guards and 'below,' she knew he was serious, and he had the wherewithal to follow through with his threats. The estate had a very seldom-used prison cell in one of the basements, a dank hole with no light that had been built 'just in case.' She'd played down there a few times, and it had seemed innocent enough at the time, but standing there in the hall, thinking of being locked in there and waiting for her uncle to come discipline her, she shuddered.
Emriana had no one there to defend her. Vambran had run off, pursuing the intruder. Her mother would fuss, but ultimately she would not stand in Dregaul's way-she had never stood up to him in all the years since Emriana's father died, so why would the girl expect her to do it right then? And Hetta was in no condition to do anything, though Emriana was sure that, eventually, her grandmother would discover her son's actions and put a stop to them. The question was, how long would Emriana suffer her uncle's very real punishments before that happened? As those demoralizing thoughts passed through her mind, Emriana found herself clamping her mouth shut and nodding in meek agreement with Dregaul.
'Excellent,' the man said. 'Perhaps we'll find some usefulness to this evening, after all.'
It wasn't until they were already walking out onto the balcony overlooking the party that Emriana realized Dregaul had referred to the gathering as his guests, and not hers. She was beginning to get a great sense of dread as her uncle started to speak.
'Lords and ladies,' the man started, once again motioning for silence from those below. Emriana saw that the attendance had fallen off somewhat, as a few of the guests had made haste to depart. Whether for their own safety at an obviously unsecured estate, or simply to rush home and begin gossiping with their neighbors about the attempt on Hetta Matrell's life, Emriana neither knew nor cared. Most remained, though, and she supposed it was out of both courtesy and concern for her grandmother. They closed in around the balcony, murmuring among themselves, waiting for Dregaul to give them some news.
'Lords and ladies,' Dregaul repeated, 'I am delighted to tell you that my mother is recovering nicely'-there was a genuine cheer of happiness at those words-'and is going to be fine, thanks to some quick action on several people's parts.'
The cheers turned into full-blown applause.
Emriana simply watched, feeling stone faced, even though her uncle had ordered her to smile. She simply could not.
'In addition,' Dregaul continued once the uproar had died down somewhat, 'House Matrell has some very exciting announcements to make. First and foremost, I would like to pass along the news that we are entering into a strategic partnership with two other Houses, beginning immediately. One of the two, House Talricci, is already tied in a familial relationship with us because, as I'm sure you all realize, my oldest nephew Evester is married to Marga Talricci. We are simply formalizing a bond that already exists.'
There was more clapping, though this was more polite than genuine enthusiasm. To Emriana, it seemed that the guests were just as confused as she was as to why Dregaul would choose right then to announce such news. Numerous groups of people began whispering behind their hands to one another, occasionally shaking heads.
Sensing that he was losing his audience, Dregaul raised his voice even more as he proceeded.
'And,' he said, giving a slight pause to let the crowd quiet a bit, 'the third House that will be joining us in our new ventures will be House Pharaboldi-'
Emriana didn't initially hear the rest of Dregaul's speech, for suddenly, she felt that sense of needing to throw up overwhelm her again. She staggered where she stood, the realization of what her uncle was saying racing through her. He was going into business with the Pharaboldis? That was impossible! She and Vambran had all but proven that House Pharaboldi had somehow been responsible for the deaths of two people, and still her uncle wanted to work with them!
Suddenly, it all began to make sense. Dregaul's reluctance for either of them to remain involved in the investigation was driven by the knowledge of who was behind it. Emriana's own uncle was a part of the conspiracy! The business relationship that the high priest had referred to was right there, under her own nose.
The girl felt unsteady on her feet and thought she was going to have to sit down before she fell down. Then she realized that everyone in the audience was clapping and cheering and looking expectantly at her. Except for Denrick, she realized. He was coming up the steps, Dregaul turning to greet him with an outstretched arm, shaking the Pharaboldi heir's hand warmly.
What was happening? Emriana thought, panicking. What had Uncle Dregaul just said? She made herself go back over what her subconscious had heard, recalling the words. When it came to her, Emriana lost her breath.
'In honor of the commitment of these two Houses to work together in a true partnership, and in order to strengthen those ties, we are proud to announce that Emriana Matrell will give her hand in marriage to Denrick Pharaboldi.'
Vambran wasn't completely aware of the stranger until the other was almost upon the mercenary. The lieutenant had been so preoccupied with carefully observing the buildings across the street that he had failed to keep a watchful eye on the rest of his surroundings. Thus it was more than a little surprising when the red-attired figure suddenly darted under the awning and sat down across from him on the window sill of the pottery merchant's shop. He couldn't see the person's face, for it was draped in cloth so that only the eyes were visible, though in the near-darkness there, he wasn't even certain he could make those out.
Vambran went to draw his sword, but the figure held up both hands, empty, and said, 'Before you run me through, I have some information you might want to hear.'
It was a woman's voice, and one he knew.
Vambran stilled his hands, shaking then, wrapping his mind around memories that flooded into him after
