The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,152
“I was not the heir designate when I came to the High Halls.”
“No.”
“I was not a Lord of this court before I arrived.”
“You arrived, I assume, to take that test?”
He nodded. “I came from the West. The politics of the High Court are...different.”
“More deadly?”
He grimaced. “Differently deadly. I had been summoned to court by An’Sennarin, from an insignificant branch family in the West March.”
“Why?”
An’Sennarin was quiet, but not still; he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, in a sequence that implied he was searching for words and failing to find the ones he wanted.
Ybelline waited.
“You are perhaps not aware of how Barrani society is structured.”
“No.”
“We are not like your kin. From the moment we are born there are words we must not speak. Words we must not hear.”
She nodded.
“The West March is less formal than the High Halls; it does not exist in the shadow of a Dragon. The Eternal Emperor’s reach does not encompass the West March; we are not part of his hoard. The rigid formality of the High Halls is necessary—or so I’ve been told—because we do live in the shadow of a Dragon. We live at the foot of his throne.
“There are tests given us when we are young.”
Severn’s eyes left Ybelline. He was not afraid that An’Sennarin would harm her.
“I did well in those tests. Remarkably well, considering the significance of my parents and siblings. My parents were proud.” The words were laced with bitterness. “My siblings hated it. I survived that displeasure because I was never officially made heir. I was much younger than either my brother or sister. Too young to make the journey to Elantra.
“But not too young to be commanded to make it. You cannot imagine what your city looked like to my eyes. The streets are crowded, smelly, oft hot; there are too few trees and the buildings are made primarily of stone or dead wood. I was considered lucky, even exalted—I was given a room within the High Halls themselves by An’Sennarin.
“He did not otherwise condescend to speak with me; he arranged the time and the hour for the Test of Name. I would not, of course, be of use or value to him because my potential could not be properly exploited were I not a Lord.” He spoke bitter words in an entirely pragmatic way.
“I found the High Halls...difficult. Where the High thrones stand there are trees, but they are almost silent, and elsewhere nature is caged and forced to conform.”
“And the West March is left to grow wild?”
“Not all of it, no. But much of it. The High Halls were not my home. In truth, I had no desire that they become so. But the test was mandatory; the only way I could escape it would be to flee in the middle of the night. I knew—we all know—that one passes simply by surviving. But great are the number of my kin who do not pass. They enter the Tower, and they never emerge.
“Children are children,” he said, his voice lower. “And childhood fears, writ large, make the test a terrifying thing. Thus I was terrified. I was young.”
“You are still considered young by your kin.”
“An’Tellarus is ancient,” he replied. “We are all young to her. Young, and foolish with youth.”
“How did you meet her?” Severn asked.
“She spent centuries in the West March, and she is known to be unusual in her choice of social companions. She can be. She might befriend the lowest of servants, the most humble of guards, and no one looks askance. Approaching me would have raised no brows at all; I was sponsored by An’Sennarin, and therefore of interest.”
“Did the An’Sennarin of the time encourage this?”
“He could not discourage it,” An’Sennarin replied, with the hint of a smile. “He could attempt to order her not to interfere with his kin—but he was not a man who gave orders he knew would not be obeyed; it would force him to act if he did not wish to be perceived as weak. It is why An’Tellarus has always felt free to come and go as she pleases.
“She guessed, I suppose, that I was terrified of the Test of Name. I had two weeks of terror to go, and she attempted to distract me. She failed, of course. I was younger. I did not believe that my life had no value if I was not a Lord of this court. If failure did not mean death, I would have gladly failed. But An’Sennarin