studied Severn’s expression, cursed genially in a way that would have been extreme had she lived in the fiefs, and said, “No wonder they’re shouting.”
“Is Ybelline here?”
Rosen’s jaw hung open for five seconds. “Gods no. Please tell me you’re not expecting her.” When he failed to answer, she turned and reached for her cane. “Mellianne is still out fact-finding. I’m shutting the office down and going for a walk. There’s no reason—at all—that I need to be here when things get really heated.”
* * *
There had been no ill effects to the lungs full of water. Certainly less than having lungs full of the Ablayne river would have caused. Severn made his way, in the now-empty office, to Elluvian’s desk. The Wolflord’s voice was raised; it clashed with Elluvian’s. Ah—a third voice had joined the discussion, a male voice. Garadin.
Severn didn’t understand why the three bothered. It had been clear, from the first time she’d entered these offices, that Ybelline could not be cowed, or begged, into obedience. She didn’t raise her voice; she accepted the concern of all those around her, and she continued with what she felt were her duties.
This time would be no different. The risk was higher, yes. But risk wasn’t the defining part of the calculation for Ybelline. She would be as cautious as she could while performing her duties. Yelling changed nothing.
The mirror, inactive, responded to his voice. He began to look through Records—in particular, the Records of the Hawks. Murder, attempted murder, was the province of that branch of the Halls of Law. His name was mentioned nowhere.
No complaint of attempted murder had been lodged here.
Severn had no access to the Imperial Service Records—not yet. There would be some overlap if he was sent to—commanded to—kill, but the overlap would be slight. There was no way to assess whether or not Ybelline had taken the accusation to the Imperial Service instead of the Halls of Law.
She had said the decision was hers. Perhaps she had not decided. Or perhaps she had. She had clearly decided to ask for an invitation to the High Halls. That invitation, in Severn’s estimation, had probably been granted—which was part of the reason the two, Wolflord and Elluvian, were arguing. Garadin’s response was in keeping with all of his prior interactions with the Wolflord where Ybelline’s safety was involved.
Garadin didn’t want Ybelline anywhere near the High Halls. The Wolflord didn’t, either. The odd thing about the argument—the words were entirely muffled by some enchantment laid on the closed door, but the tone and volume breached containment regularly—was that Severn would have bet that all three would be on the same side of it.
Ybelline wasn’t present. She might have a mirror connection to the discussion—the timbre of her voice wouldn’t breach the closed door, and her anger often caused her voice to become softer, not louder.
“Records,” he said. “Interview. Witness protection, Dogan Sapson.”
“Interview not yet complete,” Records replied. “Stay of interview requested by Lord Montrose.”
Records contained very little other information about Lord Montrose. It was a faintly familiar name. Lord Montrose. Lord Montrose. Ah. He was one of nine or eleven—he could not immediately recall the correct number—lords who presided over the human caste court.
“Reason?”
“None given. The request has been relayed to the Hawklord; the Hawklord has not yet handed down his decision.”
Of course not. Montrose was wealthy and powerful. Severn wasn’t certain that information about the serial mob murders of Tha’alani over two decades ago would change anything. The information they had been hoping for seemed almost irrelevant now.
They knew that Teremaine had been the instigator; that Teremaine, not a Lord of the High Court, was involved at the behest of someone in the High Halls. It was almost certainly An’Sennarin.
Ollarin.
Records, of course, contained no information about An’Sennarin. The Imperial Service knew only that the current An’Sennarin had occupied the seat for two decades, a period Elluvian thought paltry. If he could hold the seat for a century, Elluvian would consider it truly won.
It was simpler for Severn. The former An’Sennarin was dead. The current An’Sennarin was alive. In fief terms, the current An’Sennarin had won the fight.
But the manner of the deaths of the previous ruler and his heir had complicated that equation. Severn assumed, on some base level, that the An’Sennarin who ruled now had risen through the ranks because of his interaction with the Tha’alani; he had then discarded his allies because of the danger they presented, and he had damaged the Tha’alaan in the