Cast in Sorrow

voice.

What can they do?

He laughed, or at least, she felt laughter.

Kaylin. A different speaker. Lirienne. I am— we are—in your debt.

If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to skip the debt part.

He also laughed. If her ankle hadn’t been throbbing quite so badly, she might have smiled. You would, I think, respect Lord Barian. Because you are not Barrani, I feel it necessary to remind you that trust is unwise. It is likely that we will convene a meeting of the Council of the West March on the morrow.

Can I—

No. You are the harmoniste, and given the appearance of the eagles, Lord Barian will request your presence even if I do not. You have seen most of Court, if you have not interacted with all of them; they were in the hall at dinner. There is very little you can do to disguise the damage to the dress, and it will cause distress. You may be called upon to explain it; resist.

Who’s going to ask?

I will.

But you just said—

Yes. Do not answer when I demand the truth.

So I’m supposed to say nothing?

You are, Nightshade said, to do no such thing. You are to answer, but you are to avoid the truth in any of your replies. Lie. Or misdirect. The Lord of the West March will allow obvious silence or obvious rebellion; you are mortal.

Can he hear this?

I can, Lord Lirienne replied. Because you desire it. I will speak with the Consort.

You haven’t, yet?

No; she has made clear that she is not to be questioned, and she never does so without cause. She took pains to prevent anyone present from interacting with you personally, and she dismissed you in a way that allowed none of us to follow.

But Kaylin, kyuthe, be cautious. I know it is not in your nature—but try.

* * *

When she reached the end of the hall, she found Severn. She wasn’t even surprised to see him; she was mostly grateful. He was human. He was still bruised, his eye in particular; his hair had been singed, and although it was clean it was uneven. She didn’t ask him how he’d known to meet her. She did grimace when his gaze fell to her injured ankle.

“Am I hobbling?”

“You’re favoring your other foot,” was his diplomatic reply. “The Consort is awake?”

“She is now. She’s not in a great mood.”

“Your ankle?”

“Oh, not that bad a mood. I injured it trying to get her to wake up.” When his brows rose, she added, “Long story, and probably boring to anyone who wasn’t in it.”

“As long and repetitive as your rants about Margot and Elani street?”

“Very funny.”

“Heading to your rooms? I know where they are.”

The small dragon hissed in that broken way that implied laughter. “Do you know where Teela’s staying?”

Severn nodded.

“Can you take me there?”

“Kaylin—”

“I’m worried about her,” Kaylin said, lowering her voice instinctively. “I didn’t realize what the West March meant to her. She offered to come and I said yes.”

“I insisted I accompany you,” a familiar voice said, in the same Elantran Kaylin and Severn were using.

Chapter 11

“Don’t make that face. You asked Corporal Handred if he knew where I was staying. You didn’t ask him if I was there.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Teela. It’s dark.”

“And Barrani require how much sleep? You, on the other hand, look terrible.”

“And I know you mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Kitling, what happened to your ankle?”

“I landed badly.”

“From what height?”

“Six feet.”

“And you did that?”

“My hands were full at the time, Teela. I couldn’t drop what I was carrying.”

“From six feet? You could cut off my hands and I’d stick that landing.” Teela’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me the light in this rustic hall is so appalling the hole in that dress is actually a wrinkle.”

“Can I compromise and say I didn’t put it there?”

“That’s not much of a compromise.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Truth is not an excuse.”

Kaylin wanted to shriek. Her stomach made noise instead. Teela’s eyes slid from blue to their resting blue- green state. “Your rooms.”

Kaylin nodded.

“The servants will no doubt be waiting; it is quite late. They will provide food if food is requested.”

Kaylin nodded again; it was generally the safe bet when Teela took charge. She glanced at Severn. A look passed between the two Hawks, but Severn didn’t disappear. He didn’t take the lead, though; Teela had it and didn’t look like surrendering it could ever occur to her.

Only when she reached a familiar door—with a ward that made her cringe—did Teela stop.

“I swear,” Kaylin said between slightly clenched teeth, “if the door ward sounds the alarm again, I’m going to find an axe.”

“That might be more difficult than you imagine. I’d open the door for you, but I believe it’s keyed to you.”

At least she didn’t have to hit it with her forehead. She lifted her left hand and gritted her teeth as she placed her palm against the ward. This time, however, there was no blaring alarms, and no accompanying armored guards. The door swung open, into the hall, and Kaylin entered rooms that were hers while she wore this dress.

They didn’t feel like hers. Nothing Barrani really did.

To draw a line under this point, the servants were waiting. Kaylin remembered Teela’s pointed words. These servants had their sense of worth and duty tied up in doing their job well. If Kaylin was obviously uncomfortable—and damn it, she was—she was telling them they were doing it badly.

Inhaling, she drew herself to her full height—which was not impressive in comparison—and said, “I was called from Lord Barian’s residence to tend to the Consort by the dreams of Alsanis, and I’ve only just emerged. I