darkened, but still contained more green than blue. “As do we all.” He turned to Ybelline.
She said nothing, but reached out—almost in spite of herself—to offer An’Sennarin a hand. He took it without hesitation.
Elluvian joined them, taking the seat beside Severn. “An’Sennarin.”
Now the Sennarin lord’s eyes became Barrani blue. “Lord Elluvian.”
“While the private has no direct channel to the Emperor, I do. The Tha’alani were greatly harmed by the crimes committed decades ago. The criminals were brought to justice in a fashion; the presence of a lone Barrani man at the edge of the mob went undetected until very recently.
“It is out of concern for the Tha’alani that this investigation—this hunt—was called. It was assumed, as it must be among our kin, that you took the title and then caused the deaths as a way of overwhelming any information about the Barrani that the Tha’alaan might contain.”
“And that is not your assumption now?”
“The dates,” he finally said. “The murders began before you took the throne. Had you been older, had you been more significant at court, it is safe to assume that what happened to the Tha’alani was part of your plan of ascension. But you were newly come to the title. I am not certain any of us were aware of your significance until after you inherited.”
“You are not perhaps aware of my significance now,” An’Sennarin replied.
“Anyone who can rise from your former position to your current position is worthy of note.”
Ybelline said, “I was sent here by Adellos.”
An’Sennarin shut his eyes briefly. “You have not seen what he has seen.”
Her brows rose in some surprise; when they fell, her eyes were narrowed, their color darker. “No.”
“He asked you to come in his stead for a reason.” An’Sennarin rose, pushing his chair soundlessly back as if to escape its confines. “He has no need to visit in person if he wishes to speak with me.”
Silence, then. Utter stillness from both An’Tellarus and Elluvian.
Without thought, Severn reached for Ybelline’s hand. He understood what Random had given Tessa. So, too, did she. And it was fear of that oracle, that peculiar gift, that had caused everything that had followed.
As if aware of this, An’Sennarin turned to An’Tellarus. “Yes,” Ollarin said, although she hadn’t spoken. “Adellos holds my name.”
“Speak less,” was An’Tellarus’s sharp reply. “You are now in the presence of Imperial Wolves.”
An’Sennarin nodded. “If he has my name, he can control or destroy me. If he dies, the name will be lost—but he has not died.”
“And if the deaths of the Tha’alani were meant to draw him out?”
“They failed. I am not a threat to the Tha’alani.” He turned away. “I was never a threat to them.” But these words were softer. Thinner.
Ybelline rose. “An’Tellarus, Elluvian,” she said, “I must ask you to withdraw. There are things to be said here that are caste court business.”
“Ours or yours?” An’Tellarus asked, in grim amusement.
“Mine.”
An’Tellarus raised a brow. “Child,” she said, her voice honeyed, “that is not the way you show gratitude.”
“No,” Ybelline agreed. “And I am grateful for your escort. But the gratitude and obligation will fall upon An’Sennarin’s shoulders; you will not seek me or my kin in the immediate future. It was for his sake that you agreed, not mine or my people’s. It is for my people’s sake that I am here.”
“Very well,” An’Tellarus replied. She turned and walked out of the sunlight, pausing only once to glance over her shoulder at Elluvian, whose hesitation was marked, and longer. Caught between his duties as a Wolf and An’Tellarus’s silent command, he chose to navigate the danger that was immediately in front of him. He followed.
* * *
“He is not wrong,” An’Sennarin said, when they were gone for some five minutes. “The dates could mean many things. My rise to power.”
“The death of the previous lord and his heir,” Ybelline said. Her eyes were now hazel, but flecks of green were emerging. It was the manner of the deaths that had struck Severn. Clearly they had struck Ybelline in exactly the same way.
“Did you know Tessa?” the Barrani Lord asked. It was not the question Severn had been expecting; it was one of the possibilities Ybelline had been prepared for, given her lack of visible reaction.
“She was dead before I was six years of age.” The words were flat, neutral. Her eyes were fixed to his face, as if vision could give her, momentarily, what she could not retrieve without physical contact. “You knew her.”
He nodded and began to fidget.