also still worried about the Pharsi foresight flash that showed me struggling from beneath or around piles of gray stone, because that didn’t seem to fit anywhere. Had it really been a true foresight flash?
We only waited for a few moments at the coach stop before the Dichartyns appeared. Master Dichartyn wore the same imager formal blacks as did I. Under a dark gray formal cloak, Aelys looked to be wearing a pale gold and russet gown, colors that suited her complexion and thin frame.
“Good evening,” I offered.
“The same,” returned Master Dichartyn with a smile.
Once we were all seated, Aelys smiled at Seliora. “The girls said that Diestrya was very well-behaved the other evening.”
“That’s because your daughters are firm and because Diestrya likes them. She’s still at the age where she’ll test limits if she senses any lack of firmness.”
“Some youngsters retain that for a long time,” added Dichartyn blandly.
“You should know, dearest,” replied Aelys sweetly.
I managed not to grin before I looked as Dichartyn. “I’d like to ask for a favor, sir.”
“Ask away.”
“I’m faced with the likelihood of a difficult situation in my district later this evening, but I’d like to allow Seliora to enjoy the entire ball.”
“Of course,” he replied.
“Don’t make it so formal, dearest,” added Aelys. “You can dance with a young and beautiful woman.”
“So long as I don’t enjoy it too much?”
His ironic tone had us all smiling.
Our carriage arrived at the Council Chateau slightly before eighth glass, and was perhaps tenth in the line leading up to the steps. I was glad that the weather was clear, if chill, because there was no portico or rotunda, just the stone steps leading up to the main floor Grand Foyer. Once the coach reached the steps, and we disembarked, Seliora and I led the way, because Maitre Dichartyn was still senior to me. Once inside we crossed the foyer and passed the ceremonial guards, then ascended the Grand Staircase, past the winged angelia statues. I recalled them all too well and how angry I’d made my father as a boy when I’d commented on the inaccuracies captured in stone.
When we reached the doorway to the Great Receiving Hall, we stepped up to the same balding man who announced all arrivals at every Ball with a deep bass voice so at odds with his stature.
“Captain and Maitre Rhennthyl and Madame Rhennthyl.”
“I still don’t feel like I should be announced as Madame,” murmured Seliora as we stepped toward the three Councilors on the Executive Council, who formed a receiving line of sorts.
“You’re young and beautiful enough to be a mistress, but you’d better not…except with me,” I teased her.
“Rhennthyl,” she said in a low voice, “you’re impossible.”
Beyond the Councilors, I caught sight of the security imagers, Baratyn standing against the east wall of the Hall and Dartazn and Martyl along the west wall.
Behind us came the announcement of “Maitre Dichartyn and Madame Dichartyn.”
The first of the Executive Councilors was Glendyl D’Factorius, the manufacturer of various machinery that included everything from steam engines and mining pumps to full-sized ironway locomotives. As a Councilor from the regions around L’Excelsis, he represented the factors from Solis to Rivages. He inclined his head politely. “It’s good to see you, Master Rhennthyl, Madame.”
“We’re glad to be here,” I replied.
Next was the hawk-nosed, black-haired Caartyl, the Councilor from Eshtora representing the various artisans’ guilds across northwest Solidar. “Greetings, Master Rhennthyl. It’s always a pleasure to see an imager from a guild background. And your beauty, Madame Seliora, even exceeds your family’s reputation and artistry.”
Seliora inclined her head in response. “You’re most kind.”
Suyrien D’Alte was only slightly above average in height, several digits shorter than I, with thinning brown hair and a receding hairline. The only physical aspect that suggested why he was the Chief Councilor was the intensity in his pale green eyes, an intensity not entirely masked by his warm smile and pleasant voice. “Rhenn, Seliora, I’m so glad that you were able to come. Both Kandryl and Frydryk have told me how much they enjoyed spending the evening with you last Samedi. They and their ladies should be here shortly.”
“We’re very pleased to be here,” I replied. “We wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
“According to Frydryk…I owe you more than I realized.”
“Only to the Collegium, sir. If I hadn’t been there, doubtless someone else would have been.” I truly doubted that, but the Collegium needed the credit more than I did.
“I have my doubts, but I appreciate your efforts and those of the Collegium.”
“As we appreciate yours and those of the Council.”
“Enjoy the ball.” Suyrien smiled again.
As we moved out into the hall, and toward the music and those dancing, I thought the Councilor’s smile was more than professional, but with a good politician, one could never be certain. Behind us, the announcements continued.
“Councilor Alucion D’Artisan and Madame D’Alucion!”
“Councilor Reyner D’Factorius and Madame D’Reyner…”
We stopped short of the dance floor and to one side, not that far from the sideboards that held various vintages, where uniformed servers already provided goblets to those who wished them.
“Would you like something?”
“Not yet.” Without seeming to, Seliora studied the dancers and those around us.
She didn’t need to. She was by far the most beautiful. I glanced toward the temporary dais at the south end of the Hall, where orchestra played music for a slower dance, muted enough for both dancing and conversation, although I didn’t recognize the melody. But then, music in any fashion had never been my gift.
“Shendael D’Alte and Madame D’Shendael.”
“Marshal Geuffryt D’Mer…”
I turned slightly to watch as Juniae D’Shendael smiled at each of the High Councilors, her expression gracious and her short-cut mahogany hair without a strand out of place.
“So that’s what she looks like,” murmured Seliora. “Khethila might be disappointed.”
“She’s seen etchings and paintings, and she looks like them.”
“The Honorable Dharios Harnen, Envoy of the Abierto Isles, and Madame Harnen.”
At past Balls, the envoy had brought his daughter, and the much younger woman with him looked more her age, suggesting that he’d recently remarried.
“Ryel D’Alte and Madame Ryel.” That announcement seemed wrong, perhaps because the first time I’d heard it had been for Iryela’s parents.
“Frydryk D’Suyrien-Alte and Mistress Alynkya D’Ramsael-Alte.”
I watched as the Ryels made their way into the Hall and over to the three Councilors. Iryela wore a gown of shimmering blue and silver, the same colors she’d worn at the first Ball where I’d met her-although Kandryl wore the Ryel colors of black and silver.
“Don’t move to them,” murmured Seliora. “They can join us. They will.”
I didn’t argue. If they did, it showed one thing, and if they didn’t, it showed another.
Matters didn’t turn out quite that way, because I could see Juniae D’Shendael was headed in our direction, accompanied not by her husband, but by the Naval officer who had followed her through the receiving line.
“You’re going to get Khethila’s wish,” I said in a low voice.
“I’ll make the best of it for her.”
Madame D’Shendael’s smile was warm as she inclined her head to us. “Maitre Rhennthyl…I do prefer that to ‘Captain.’ I hope you don’t mind.” Madame D’Shendael smiled and looked to Seliora. “Being a Maitre D’Structure is more distinguished. There are but six in all the world, and there are six Civic Patrol Captains just in L’Excelsis itself.”
I didn’t correct her, but just murmured, “You’re most gracious.”
