***
Gwyndolyn snapped the book shut and looked across her own vast library. ?Guards were posted at all entrances, as always, and faithful Blaes hovered a few feet away like a loyal shadow. ?She sighed theatrically, and it was the despairing sound of boredom. ?She tossed the red leather book to Blaes who caught it easily with his free hand. ?His other stayed permanently stationed at the sword on his belt.
"What do you think of this book, Blaes?" she asked, humming another sigh.
"I've not read it, my lady," he said, setting it to the side on the granite table next to him. ?"Your mother suggested that you should help with the planning of the Spring Festival."
Gwyndolyn was too impatient to sigh again. ?She detested being given mindless chores to do. ?Preoccupation did not improve her condition. ?"I find the Spring Festival boring." ?It wasn't entirely untrue. ?Its preparation and organization she thought to be loathsome. ?She wouldn't mind attending the festival itself. ?"You should really read that book, Blaes. ?It might prove helpful."
"Why is that, my lady?" asked ever-patient Blaes.
"Look at its author."
He picked up the book and read the cover. ?"Thamil Kennyratear," he said.
"And?" she insisted sharply for him to continue.
"Feraan Auvrearaheal."
"Exactly," she trilled gleefully.
"My lady, I refuse to see the importance of Master Auvrearaheal."
"You're the one that is always paranoid, Blaes. ?Make the connections and while you are at it, read his writing. ?He has a personality quite unlike any elf I've seen."
When Blaes disapproved of her pastimes, he was always gentle. ?He abandoned the book once more to the granite table, purposely pushing it away from him. ?Gwyndolyn imagined others would have tossed it across the room. ?"I cannot approve of your ladyship's obsession with the Wandering Elf."
"I just wonder what compelled him to write about Firescales. ?What are Firescales anyway?" she asked, rising from her lounging position on the elegant chair that was constructed to her preference. ?It was tall to resemble a throne and wide so she could drape her feet over the arm. ?And she had it padded with Vinius threads for when she sat for long periods of reading.
"Firescales are a specific breed of dragon that razed the land during the war," he answered quickly. ?She loved how Blaes was like a walking reference book.
"What other books has Master Auvrearaheal written?" she asked, pushing herself up to meet Blaes on eye level.
"There was a volume on werewolves called The Dirus Clan and another of a different subject called Mountainfolk."
Gwyndolyn frowned, troubled. ?"He's lived for over five hundred years and he's only managed to write three books?" she asked.
Blaes was trained in the military. ?He was commander of Empress Haelyn's armies, yet his primary job was to babysit the royal, illegitimate daughter. ?Gwyndolyn often wondered if he regretted giving up his military career for her. ?But for the rarest moments, she would see a shine of humor in his eyes. ?She saw it now as he said, "I apologize for Master Auvrearaheal's inefficiency."
She giggled at his wit and allowed herself to snake her arms around his neck. ?Blaes stared down at her as impassively as ever. ?She felt familiarly wounded as she usually did when he did not respond to her affection. ?She always blamed it on his venerated military service, but there was always that doubt that the problem rested within her.
The moment was interrupted by the entrance of the empress. ?"Gwyn, stop flirting with Blaes and get off of him. ?You make him uncomfortable."
Gwyndolyn sighed again, but this time it was an annoyed sound. ?She slipped from Blaes and slid sinuously to her chair, arranging her features into a pout. ?She did not look up at her mother. ?The painting she had of Empress Haelyn in her library did not do justice to the flawless ebony skin and the midnight black tresses of the elven empress.
Haelyn stopped when she stood in front of Gwyndolyn. ?"You should not sulk all day, my dear. ?It will do no good for your health."
"I am not sulking, mother. ?I am researching," Gwyndolyn clarified.
"I cannot approve of such brooding. ?Please, my darling, you should help arrange the Spring Festival. ?There are four cities that could use your help."
"There were five cities that did well enough without my help a hundred years ago," Gwyndolyn countered.
Empress Haelyn rolled her eyes, but seemed to miss the reference. ?"Did you enjoy your time in Sal'Sumarathar?" ?Gwyndolyn watched as the empress's eyes traveled to Blaes, as if waiting for some confirmation. ?The action annoyed her. ?Gwyndolyn could answer for herself.
"I did not like Sal'Sumarathar. ?The Head Councilor acts as though he owns the city. ?He wanted nothing but for me to leave."
"It is always a matter of how you present yourself, Gwyndolyn," Haelyn reprimanded softly. ?"You are a noble dignitary of the House of Ernmas. ?You should act like it for once. ?If your grandmother were here-"
"I never knew Grandmother Clytemeria, so I doubt she would have that much of an effect on me."
Haelyn fell suddenly silent. ?Gwyndolyn could tell the empress was not accustomed to being interrupted. ?Gwyndolyn took satisfaction that she was the only one who could be rude to the empress without fear of consequence.
Except there was a hidden consequence this time. ?"If you do not pick a city to attend for the Spring Festival, I will pick one for you," the empress said coolly, giving Gwyndolyn no choice on the matter. ?Empress Haelyn turned to take her leave, pausing briefly at the door. ?"Please, Gwyn. ?If you stay in this library all the time, you will give yourself another headache."
"Yes, mother," Gwyndolyn huffed impatiently.
"You remember what I said if that happens again?"
"Yes, you will send me to the castles of the Baetic Mountains," Gwyndolyn snapped.
Haelyn left silently, and Gwyndolyn took comfort in her absence. ?She turned to Blaes who asked her, "What city would you choose, my lady?"
Gwyndolyn thought for a moment. ?She did not care to stay in Yamalvon for the festival. ?Elewyr was a beautiful city next to the seaside, perhaps the most tempting. ?Rasaen was home to the fetching diplomat Lanslak. ?Otherwise, Rasaen was not of marked importance.
And then there was Sal'Sumarathar, with the councilors who feared her and the elf with the infamous reputation who had written only three books. ?And Gwyndolyn had made her decision.
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