Before Shironne’s intervention, Mikael would carry away bruising and internal ills that mimicked the victim’s death. Deborah hadn’t had any idea how bad they’d become until last month, when his dream of a victim’s death left corresponding bruises on his own body. . . . and the bodies of a couple dozen of the stronger sensitives in the Fortress. They had been appropriately horrified by his ability to transfer his own torture to them.
Deborah sent one of the runners—Hedda this time—to fetch them some tea from the mess while she ran through her usual post-dream questions with Mikael. When most of them came back with benign answers, she moved on. “What is bothering you, then?”
The runner returned, carrying a small pot of tea held almost a foot before her, as if afraid it would jump out and stain her brown uniform. Deborah took it from her and shooed the girl out. She located a cup on a book-stacked shelf and poured for herself only, since Mikael shook his head when she gestured toward him.
“I talked with Master Elias again, just a bit.”
She sat down, cradling her hands around the warm cup. “And that upset you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He told her about Valerion coming to Lucas to court Master Elias’ sister, Eline. Elias was much older than her, and Eline, a couple of years younger, so she hadn’t known either of them well then. Even so, the idea that Valerion might take an Anvarrid wife in addition to his Family wife didn’t surprise her too much. And it made sense, of a sort, out of why Elias didn’t care for Mikael. It wasn’t personal; it was historical.
Either way, the idea had clearly upset Mikael.
“Your father was raised Anvarrid, Mikael,” she said, trying to be gentle with the idea. “Perhaps he thought he should have more than one wife.” The Anvarrid had a long history of polygamy and had quit the practice primarily because Larossans found it distasteful.
Mikael’s lips pursed. He looked tired and worn. “Master Elias thinks my grandfather pushed him.”
“Ah. Did your mother ever talk to you about their relationship?”
“No, ma’am. Well, once she told me he intended to sign her contract, he just had never found the time.” Mikael smiled. “That might have been wishful thinking on her part.”
“Possibly.” When he didn’t deny that, Deborah took a sip of the tea and then set it down, intending to let it cool before she tried that again. “Keep in mind, dear, that your parents were once young and foolish, as you are now. After all, you have had your share of . . . romances, have you not?”
He flushed, his lips still held tight.
“After last night,” she added, “the elders will need to rethink how much you’re be allowed to be in contact with Shironne. I’m concerned that . . .” She tried to find a pleasant way to say it. “If they allow more contact, you might find the increased proximity with Shironne a little too tempting.”
He sat back. “Ma’am?”
“You understood me perfectly well, Mikael.”
He rubbed at his nose, his cheeks flushing anew. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You need to make a decision,” she told him, “exactly how far you will let your physical contact with her go. I would like for you to set a well-defined limit in your mind—preferably something you won’t be embarrassed to repeat to me.”
His face flushed. “I wouldn’t do anything—”
“Mikael, you aren’t precisely an innocent, and she seems inclined to allow you anything you want. I am aware of how the double-sensitive dynamic works.”
He shut his mouth, cheeks scarlet now. Sensitives often echoed each other’s emotions, so arousal between them easily spun out of control. That could lead to actions taken without proper consideration.
“I’m her sponsor here so I have to say this, dear. I’d prefer that it never come to that point, but I want you to decide before it happens. You’re the adult. I expect you to be the one who says no.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded dutifully.
“I know from personal experience how easy it is to give in, dear.”
His eyes met hers. “You, ma’am?”
She’d surprised him with that admission. “I was young and foolish once, too, believe it or not.”
Chapter 25
* * *
FIRSTDAY WAS THE DAY of the week that families spent together. Shironne had picked that up from Mikael on her first day in the Fortress. Most of the carers had the day off as well, including the mess personnel, so the breakfast consisted of dried fruit and flat bread cooked the day before. A bit bland for breakfast, but Shironne enjoyed the informality of it. The sixteens gathered their meals and those who weren’t on runner duty regrouped down in the common on their own hall, a time together before splitting up to go meet with their parents or sponsors.
It was a chance for her to work on fixing names with personalities in her mind, something that Shironne still found elusive, especially with the male half of the yeargroup. But she was sure now of Hanna, Hedda, and Norah, and that felt like a true victory.
Eli was once again charged with escorting her upstairs afterward, even though she could find the place on her own. She had a sense of where her mother was in the palace, although she wasn’t going to tell Eli that—it would make him wary of her. When they reached the third-floor landing, Eli asked aloud where they would find the Anjir family. Surely there was a quarterguard nearby.
“Miss Perrin is in the Blue Hall,” a woman’s voice said from a few feet to Shironne’s right, “arguing with Lady Sera.”
“Arguing?” Shironne asked.
The quarterguard’s mind ticked away, worried, a calculation that Shironne finally realized had to do with whether she should ignore that query or not. Since Shironne was dressed as a Family child, the woman shouldn’t answer, but since Shironne was also a member of the Royal House of Valaren, she should.
“What are they arguing about?” Eli asked when the quarterguard didn’t respond.
Once offered a way out of the conundrum that Shironne presented, the quarterguard’s mind relaxed. Even though Eli was a child, he was also a runner for the king’s household and thus they had leeway to speak with him. “Only Father Winter knows. I think Lady Sera is affronted that Miss Perrin is not impressed with her consequence, and Miss Perrin seems confused as to why Lady Sera doesn’t care that she wants to be left alone. There’s been a great deal of yelling and tears, and I think their parents want to toss the two of them out a window, and it’s making my head hurt.”
There was a faint air of frustration about the woman, clutched tight. The quarterguards were all sensitives and as such were likely to suffer during the squabbles of the Royal House.
“I’m under the impression that Lady Sera carries that ambient around with her at all times,” Eli said, briefly letting them feel his amusement.
The quarterguard actually chuckled.
Shironne wondered if someone would report the quarterguard for showing emotion like that. Eli, having received his answer, led Shironne on toward the Blue Hall. Even standing outside the doorway, Shironne could feel the wall of affronted pride that was her unmet cousin Sera’s, and Perrin’s frustration that fluttered against that wall like a bird trying to escape a cage. Her mother and uncle were in there as well, Dahar simply radiating exhaustion and her mother full of confusion.
“Do you actually want to go in there?” Eli asked in a whisper.
Shironne heaved a sigh, not bothering to hide her resignation. Perrin had cause for being upset, but she’d also always been a touch dramatic. And Shironne had already caught Mikael’s impression of the newly-returned-from-elsewhere Sera and her histrionics. “Thank you for accompanying me, Eli.”
“I am not going in there with you,” he said. “This is Firstday. I’m not putting up with that today.”
That confidence was the closest Eli had come to being friendly with her so far. “I understand. I expect I’ll be back in the quarters before dinnertime.”
“If not, ask them to send a runner to let Tabita know.” An
d with that last request, he slipped away, boots silent on the hallway’s carpets.
Shironne stood a moment longer, deciding whether she truly wanted to enter that hall. Perrin, at her worst, could be unbearably self-centered, clearly a Valaren trait Sera possessed as well.
“It’s unfair!” she heard inside. “It’s mine.” Sera wasn’t shouting, but she was close.
“No, it isn’t,” Dahar said flatly, apparently unaware that Shironne had arrived. “That room does not belong to anyone. The Valaren live here by the will of the senate, and nothing in the palace belongs to us. Keep that in mind, daughter.”
Is she still upset about the bedroom Perrin was placed in?
“Why are you so set on that room?” Shironne asked from the doorway, her voice soft enough that she wasn’t sure it would carry.
It did. She felt relief from Perrin hailing her arrival, but she’d only made Sera angrier. Fury floated around Shironne’s sense of Sera like a red cloud.
“Who are you that you think you can question me?” Sera snapped. “Runners don’t speak unless spoken to.”
Shironne felt herself blinking as she tried to figure out that attack.
“Sera, this is your cousin Shironne,” Dahar said tightly. “She’s been placed in the Family, but because we’re her House, she is allowed to speak with us.”
Oh, that again. She was never going to get the rules straight in her mind. “I only came to see Perrin and Mother,” she said quickly. Perhaps she could come back later.
Dahar didn’t let her withdraw. “You might as well meet Sera now.”
Shironne stepped forward a few steps, then stopped, warned by a flash of concern from her mother that she was about to walk into something physical. If she remembered her previous visit correctly, the path should have been clear. She heard the tinkling of her mother’s bracelet approaching, the sound of stone on wood, and then her mother whispered near to Shironne, “She knocked over one of the chairs.”
Perrin was moving as well now, her bracelet a different pitch. She threw her arms around Shironne with true joy under her relief. “I miss you so much!”
That was so unlike Perrin that Shironne didn’t know what to say. Then again, Perrin was out of bed and wasn’t crying. This was a vast improvement over her past days of tearfulness. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“She’s mean,” Perrin added in a softer voice. “You should be glad you don’t have to live up here if she’s going to stay.”
That statement was loud enough for Sera to hear. Shironne felt a sharp sting of pain from the other girl on the other side of the room, but it was quickly buried under Sera’s anger.
Is all this anger because she’s hurt? “You don’t even know her yet,” she told Perrin. “Be patient.”
“I’ve told her the same,” Mama said from nearby. Her hand settled on Shironne’s sleeve. “Come sit with us, sweetheart.”
She led Shironne to one of the two couches, and settled to one side of her, a gentle waft of her perfume accompanying the motion. It reminded Shironne of comfort and home, something she wasn’t going to know again any time soon. Perrin sat on her other side, one hand wrapping possessively about Shironne’s arm. They needed Melanna to be complete, but apparently, she was still in the infirmary in Below, having her arm checked again. Melanna and Sera together would be an interesting combination.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Sera.” Shironne hoped she managed to sound pleasant when she said that. And that she’d managed to project the proper emotions.
Dahar’s daughter was likely a weak sensitive, easier to fool.
“Amserian,” the other girl corrected stiffly.
Shironne pressed her lips together but inclined her head to acknowledge the title name. She sensed a flare of irritation from Dahar at that pronouncement, quickly tucked away.
Amserian meant Lady Amseria. Her brother Kai and sister Rachel had taken Family names to show that they identified themselves as Family rather than Anvarrid. And while Shironne was moderately sure that Sera was a Family name, she didn’t think Sera saw it that way.
I’m beginning to see why Dahar sent this daughter away.
Then again, somehow Sera’s presence had rousted Perrin from her bed.
And this awkward homecoming likely didn’t leave Sera feeling particularly welcome. After all, for the past month, Dahar had practically begged Shironne’s mother to move their family here yet hadn’t wanted Sera to come home. They’d even given away Sera’s childhood bedroom to one of the new members of his family. That must be a painful thing to discover. Mama would have already worked that out, but they could hardly discuss it in front of Sera. Shironne resolved to be nice to this new cousin, no matter how vexing she proved to be.
A strange sound in the hallway caught Shironne’s ear. It took her a moment to identify as the squeak of Lady Amdiria’s wheeled chair. The king’s consort was rolled into the Blue Hall a second later, likely by one of the quarterguards. Her arrival was greeted by a sense of relief from Dahar and Shironne’s mother both. The consort was the ultimate authority on this hallway, and even Sera couldn’t gainsay her.
After a flurry of greetings, the consort ordered Dahar and his daughter to settle on the couch across from the Anjir family. “Sera, you have no business taking out your ire on the Anjir family or your father. Or my quarterguards, for that matter, who have been complaining about your lack of control since you arrived.”
That got through to Sera, when apparently nothing else had. Shironne could feel her chagrin at being reprimanded in front of others. “I apologize, Aunt,” Sera said in a chastened-but-firm voice, “but it was my mother’s room.”
Apparently, the consort hadn’t intimidated all the fight out of her. And that claim, at least, made a bit of sense to Shironne.
The consort allowed them all to feel her ire then, a cool and level irritation. “Sera, your mother is dead. And if the Family had let her live, I would have banished her to one of the estates, preferably as far north as I could. There is nothing here that is hers, and nothing left in that room that she touched. Do you understand me?”
Shironne swallowed. All of her dealings with the consort in the past month had been cordial. It shocked her to hear the consort speak so coldly of Sera’s mother. She knew from Mikael’s mind that the dead Talia Lucas was generally disliked, but he didn’t actually know why that was the case. He wasn’t Lucas, and not privy to that secret. Whatever Sera’s mother had done, though, had been bad enough that it tainted everyone’s perception of the youngest daughter.
“Yes, lady,” Sera whispered, and after a moment, added, “May I be excused?”
Shironne could feel her cousin’s desire to cry like a rasp at the back of her throat, but she wasn’t going to interfere in this exchange. Perrin was confused, but clearly recognized this was a situation where one didn’t ask. Shironne was particularly glad that Melanna was absent now, as her younger sister wouldn’t have refrained from asking. She heard Sera rise and move away, so the consort must have gestured her permission.
Lady Amdiria sighed, regret washing around her. “We all agreed that she would do better elsewhere, but Trent didn’t manage to tame her, either.” A tense silence followed for a moment. “Kai’s been the only one in constant contact with her, despite everything. I suspect he missed her. Let him deal with her today, Dahar.”
* * *
The others returned to the Blue Hall after eating, but Deborah stayed in the dining hall, sure that Dahar wanted to speak with her. It was one of the faint traces of their long-ago friendship—she could tell when he needed something. He hated to ask her for favors—he preferred to yell at her instead—but when his shoulders slumped in a particular way, it was time for her to step in.
She’d come up to eat with the Valaren family at Kai’s request. He’d thought she could smooth out the roughness between Dahar and Sera. Apparently Dahar did as well. In the end, Sera had simply refused to join her family. She sulked in her detested room instead, annoy
ing Kai—who’d made great efforts so far to draw her into a better mood, not a natural thing for him at all—and convincing Savelle that perhaps she might not want to know this new niece better, no matter that Sera had provoked Perrin to leave her bed.
Dahar crossed back to the dining room’s windows and stood gazing out over the cobbled courtyard below. The clock in the western dome began to ring three, and he craned his head as if he could see that tower from here. Then he sighed dramatically.
My cue. Deborah picked up her satchel and dug out the vial that contained pellets of valerian. “I want you to take this with a glass of wine tonight, Dahar. You need to get some sleep.”
He didn’t even ask why. “I’d rather not drink wine.”
“Tea, then.” He favored tea anyway.
“I . . .”
She waited, wondering if he intended to finish the thought.
He leaned his forehead against the windowpane, something that would surely upset his guards if they were around to see it, but in the king’s household they could be banished to the hallways. “Why can’t I deal better with her? Her sister is never a problem.”
No, quiet Rachel adored her father. “You can’t change what’s past, Dahar,” she reminded him. “You have to start over with Sera. You did with Kai.”
“He left the Daujom because of me,” Dahar said, bitterness in his tone that he’d hidden before. “He doesn’t want to be near me.”
She hated seeing Dahar like this. “That’s not true. His choice isn’t about you.”
“I don’t see how it isn’t.” He pulled away from the window and focused on her. “That’s like saying your marrying Stephen had nothing to do with me.”
It took her breath for a moment. She was too surprised even to calm herself. She just stared at him, feeling sick to her stomach.
In Dreaming Bound Page 22