The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,62
exemption cover.”
“He is.”
“Your informant must be mistaken. Mortals have difficulty telling the Barrani apart.”
Cassandre was watching Elluvian; her gaze did not move. “Lord Corvallan is correct. An’Sennarin has extensive contacts in the High Court and the lower courts; he has acquaintances that belong in neither.”
“He became An’Sennarin,” Elluvian countered, “two decades ago, rising in prominence from the moment that he shouldered the line. While he was always considered ambitious, his rise implies genius.”
“Or luck.”
“Luck is made.” Elluvian now rose and turned to Severn. “We will be late if we linger much longer, and An’Tellarus does not forgive tardiness, in my experience.” He then turned to Cassandre and Corvallan. “I regret any discomfort this has caused; think on my words and consider the situation with care. The Emperor, for reasons known only to himself, has chosen to place his trust in me, but I am Barrani.
“If An’Sennarin continues unchecked, the Emperor will decide to oversee this investigation in person. He would not send mortals to deal with the Immortal, and I am not an army.”
“And if An’Sennarin is not your criminal?”
Elluvian smiled.
* * *
He did not speak to Severn as they left the Corvallan apartments. The guards remained, but no signal from Cassandre—who saw them out, in the same fashion as she had invited them in—caused them to become would-be assassins. Severn was alert, but he did not appear to expect trouble from that quarter.
He had not, however, expected trouble in the wake of An’Tellarus, either. His reflexes, youthful, were good. Having experienced An’Tellarus’s particular style of testing, there was some small chance they would both escape with their lives, if not their dignity, intact.
Elluvian had ceased to consider dignity—in the eyes of others—of great import. It was a lesson he had learned over centuries, but a vital one. He did not wish to keep an appointment that had been made for him without his desire or permission. At any other time, he would have failed to arrive. But if what he had said to Cassandre was not the entirety of the truth, it was true enough that it required careful handling of the High Court. And as An’Tellarus was here, it would require far more caution than was Elluvian’s wont.
He wished again that Helmat had not insisted that a partner of any kind was required, because Wolves were mortals. It irked him; Severn might have fast reflexes, but had he been with Elluvian at his most recent visit, the boy would be dead.
Unless he chose not to interfere, of course. If he chose not to interfere at all, the matter would remain within the laws of exemption.
* * *
An’Tellarus’s apartments did not follow the same halls as Corvallan’s; Corvallan was not the head of his line. He was significant enough that he was granted the use of Mellarionne suites, but his suites were a geographic reminder that that significance was lesser. An’Tellarus, being head of her line, was not treated as if she was insignificant. The High Lord respected her, as did the Consort who ruled, like a statue, by his side.
She, in turn, seemed to bear some affection for the High Lord and his Lady, but An’Tellarus’s affections were never gentle.
Her quarters were, however, magically protected. No show of guards—armed, armored—graced the halls that led to doors almost the height of the ceilings, and while these ceilings were not the vaulting, multistory ceilings of the public gallery, meant to inspire awe and a sense of open space where none existed, they were nonetheless taller than Corvallan’s ceilings had been, and they artfully implied sunlight as they passed beneath them.
No armor, no metal, adorned the wall alcoves here: instead, there were small sculpted trees and artfully arranged flowers—things that implied growth, change, and ephemerality. Severn saw them, just as he had seen the armed men.
“Is there a significance to the colors?” he asked, which surprised Elluvian.
“The colors?”
“The flowers on the left and right alcoves, the third alcoves, are of a kind, but the colors are radiant—and different.”
“Different?”
“I haven’t seen green flowers before. Leaves, yes—but these are the color of emeralds.”
“Cassandre was right,” Elluvian replied. “Your Barrani is excellent. All of the Wolves—all members of the Halls of Law—must speak passable Barrani, and more to the point, read it. The use of the word emerald, however, is not legal cant. And yes, the colors are significant: emerald and indigo. It is highly unlikely that either plant was cultivated without the use of magic.”