Cast in Courtlight by Michelle Sagara

Author:Michelle Sagara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LUNA
Published: 2006-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

Her rooms were sparse and fine, and when she entered them, she paused to look at the west wall; it was glass, colored and divided by something too shiny to be lead. Some panes were clear enough that they looked like openings until they met her palm; the others were dark, like precious gems. If there was a pattern in them, she couldn’t see it—but she wasn’t concerned about her accommodations.

She was thinking; although she had been forbidden the Hawk, it still defined her. Her fingers had gone the numb that cold causes; it beat burning. But they were clumsy and awkward.

The dress made her feel clumsy and awkward, as well. It was just too pretty, too expensive, too—highborn. If she had dreamed of wearing a dress like this, if she had once dreamed of rescue, in the way children do, she’d grown beyond the dream. Or it had grown too small to contain her. It didn’t matter.

If the Lord of the West March had not been standing by her side, she’d have stripped it off. Or tried. She hadn’t forgotten about the damn buttons.

“You told me,” she said quietly, as she pretended to notice the wall of windows, “that no one else knew about the Lord of the Green.”

“It is known that he is at Court,” the Lord of the West March replied. “And he has appeared in the company of the High Lords.”

“Not as himself.”

“He was fey,” was the quiet reply.

“The castelord knows.”

“The castelord is Lord of the High Halls. What passes here, he knows.”

She frowned.

“Hawk,” he whispered.

She turned to see his subtle smile. His eyes, however, were blue and dark. “Did you tell Teela?”

“Teela? Ah, Anteela. My cousin.”

“Yes.”

He said nothing for a moment. Then he walked past the windows, to a cabinet that rested in the curve of the wall. He opened it, and brought out a decanter that was probably as heavy as most babies she delivered; it was certainly more solid. “Will you drink?”

“Not on duty.”

“You are not on duty.”

She hesitated. “I don’t generally drink in the company of strangers.”

“But I am not a stranger, kyuthe. You have my name.”

And what did that mean? She could call him; he would hear her. But the syllables that had shattered foreign sky didn’t tell her anything at all about the man. The Barrani weren’t human. They weren’t mortal. She had always been aware of it, but she’d never truly known it. Not like this. “I’ll…drink.”

He poured. She watched his hands move, aware that he honored her. She turned. “Andellen,” she said quietly.

Andellen nodded.

“I wish to speak privately with the Lord of the West March.”

“I do not counsel it,” Andellen replied, surprising her.

Surprising the Lord of the West March, as well. “He is yours,” the High Lord said. “And he knows what you know. I see no harm in his presence.”

“Samaran, however, will wait outside,” Andellen added.

Samaran bowed. It was like a little ritual that was beyond her understanding.

The door closed on Samaran’s back. They stood in the room, Andellen, the Lord of the West March, and Kaylin Neya.

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