— to explore what they had begun today.
The Hearth Room was empty. The fireplace at the far end of the long hall slumbered, its coals dark, no flames licking its blue stones. No one sat in the armchairs there, and the standing lamps with their rose-glass shades remained unlit.
Lost in daydreams, Vyrl walked across the other end of the long hall, far from the hearth, in the shadows. As he passed the great stone staircase that curved up to the second floor, he glanced around to make sure he was alone. Then he turned in a circle, pretending to dance with Lily. With a flourish, he snapped his foot to his knee and spun fast, three times. He came out of the turn in a leap, jumping high off the ground. Then he landed on bent knees and stopped, checking to make sure no one had seen him. Laughing softly at himself, he resumed his staid walk.
'You're late,' a voice said.
Vyrl froze. In response to the speaker, the lamps at the far end of the hall came on, shedding warm light over the hearth. This far from the lamps, shadows filled the hall, but enough light filtered back to show a man standing a few paces away, in the doorway Vyrl had been approaching. He hadn't heard anyone enter, probably because he had been dancing.
Vyrl managed to find his voice. 'Father.'
Eldrinson Althor Valdoria, who carried the title of Dalvador Bard, looked to Vyrl like the hero of an epic poem. At five feet ten, his father stood half a hand-span taller than the average man of Dalvador. He had a well-built physique, his muscles firm from years of farming. Wine-red hair brushed his shoulders, its healthy sheen visible despite the dim light. Even Vyrl, who understood almost nothing about how women saw such matters, could tell his father had a handsome face, with its straight nose, high cheekbones, large eyes, and classical features. Although Vyrl never knew how to respond when people exclaimed over how he resembled his father, he considered it a compliment, more because he admired his father than because he cared about appearance.
'Where have you been?' Eldrinson asked, frowning.
'Out in the plains.' Vyrl tried not to look guilty about his missed schoolwork. His father would never understand. No one could. Vyrl was all brimming confusion and desire. Although his older brothers sometimes saw girls in the village, he was certain none of them had ever felt the way he did about Lily, as if his heart could soar one moment and shatter the next.
Eldrinson came over to him, and Vyrl again had the unsettling experience of looking
'And while you were running in the plains,' his father inquired, 'who was doing your lessons?'
Vyrl imagined a black velvet cloth over his mind, hiding his thoughts about Lily from his father, who was a strong empath. 'I'll finish them tonight.'
'You shouldn't leave them until so late.'
'I can't study all day,' Vyrl grumbled. 'I'll turn into a mad marauder.'
'A marauder?' Eldrinson tried to hold back his smile. 'We can't have that.'
Although his father had guarded his mind, Vyrl could tell he wasn't angry, either about the missed homework or about Vyrl dancing, which he had probably seen.
'I feel suffocated in here,' Vyrl said. 'I need to run.'
His father tried to look stern. 'If you intend to carry through with this idea of yours, to earn a doctorate in agriculture someday, you have to study.'
'If I go to the university, I'll have to go off-world.' The prospect dismayed Vyrl. 'Maybe I could attend through the computer webs instead.'
'You mean in a virtual classroom?'
'Yes.' Vyrl's mood lightened. 'Exactly.'
Eldrinson rubbed his chin. 'I don't really understand it, these machines and things of your mother's people.'
Having grown up with the technology his mother had brought to Lyshriol, Vyrl had never shared his father's unease with it. Eager now, he said, 'I've been checking colleges. Many have programs for virtual students. I would never have to leave Lyshriol.' He longed to learn the science behind the farming he loved. Lyshriol was more than his home; the plains, the suns, the land itself were part of him at a level so deep he couldn't separate them from his identity.
His father spoke carefully. 'Many possibilities exist.'
Vyrl could tell something more than unfinished homework was troubling his father. Disquieted, he looked around. 'Where is everyone?' Usually the house bustled with life. He had six brothers and three sisters, all at home except for Eldrin, his oldest brother.
'They went to the festival in the village,' Eldrinson said. 'I've been looking for you.'
'For me? Why?'
'To talk.' His father's expression had become unreadable. 'If you stay here on Lyshriol, your life will have many constraints. You wouldn't have to accept those limitations if you went off-world.'
Apprehension brushed Vyrl. 'I don't want to leave.'
'You may change your mind when you're older.'
He pondered his father. Although Eldrinson didn't seem overly upset, he wasn't happy either. Vyrl had tended to avoid his parents lately, but this cautious conversation bothered him. His father was shielding his mind more than usual. It didn't feel right.
Vyrl went to the stairs and sat on the fourth step, stretching out his legs. 'What happened?'
Eldrinson came over and leaned against the banister, his elbow resting on its gold curve. 'You are familiar with the House of Majda?'
'I guess.' Vyrl knew Majda the way he knew the other noble Houses, as institutions he studied in school and otherwise gladly forgot. In this age of elected leaders, the Imperial nobility were an anachronism— including his own family, the Ruby Dynasty, which topped that antiquated hierarchy.
He winced, reminded of the history lessons he had neglected yesterday, earning his tutor's disapproval. His mother's ancestors had ruled the Ruby Empire until that interstellar civilization had fallen, stranding its colony worlds. During the ensuing dark ages, many colonies had lost their technology. Only in recent centuries had his mother's people regained star travel and begun rediscovering the lost colonies, such as this one on Lyshriol. Although Vyrl knew the House of Majda had been a strong ally of the Ruby Dynasty throughout history, he had never met a single member of that venerated line. Majda belonged to off-world politics, like a distant fog.
'Devon Majda heads the House of Majda,' his father said. 'She inherited the title of Matriarch ten years ago, just after her twenty-eighth birthday.'
'Oh.' Vyrl leaned back with his elbows on the stair above him.
Eldrinson shifted his weight, then cleared his throat. 'As Matriarch, Devon has… responsibilities.'
'I see.' In truth, Vyrl had no idea what his father was talking about. He couldn't pick up anything from Eldrinson's guarded mind. He wondered if he could make it to the festival in time to have dinner with his brothers.
'Do you know what those responsibilities are?' Eldrinson asked.
Was this a test? Maybe his father was more annoyed with him for playing truant than he realized. If he had to stay in tonight while everyone else enjoyed the festival, he wouldn't see Lily.
He tried to sound knowledgeable. 'As the head of her House, Devon Majda has a seat in the Assembly.' Vyrl scoured his memory. 'Most councilors in the Assembly are elected leaders who represent various worlds. Only the noble Houses have hereditary seats. It's left over from the days when the Ruby Dynasty ruled instead of the Assembly.' He squinted at Eldrinson. 'You and Mother have seats, too, don't you? Mother is the Councilor for Foreign Affairs.'
'That's right.' His father paused. 'Your mother's seat is more than hereditary; she ran for election and won. It gives her more votes.'
'Oh. Yes.' Although Vyrl admired his mother's work in a theoretical sort of way, right now he had more concern for his growling stomach. Lately he was hungry all the time. He ate twice as much as his younger siblings, but it never seemed to be enough.
'The Ruby Dynasty and Majda must balance their power with that of the Assembly,' Eldrin said, still
