put it to use; if I can, I will have justified lean decades of effort. Let me fancy, in so doing, that you will be my godson’s daughter when we are together.”
She hesitated. She bit her lip. Hectore stole a glance at her domicis, and was highly amused at the rigidity of that man’s expression. “I’d like you to meet my den,” she said, as if she were still a child of the holdings. She closed her eyes, and added, “My kin.”
“I will. I will make an appointment to speak with Finch ATerafin at her earliest convenience. Do you wish to be present for the first of our meetings?”
“If I can,” she replied. “I will see you out,” she added, as he offered her an arm.
He had not lied to her: he intended to devote his attention to the difficulties she faced, where it was possible to do so. He expected Andrei to argue against such interference. But he felt, this eve, his many failures: the failure to protect his granddaughter, and by so doing, to shield his daughter from the pain of grief and loss; his failure to succor his difficult, proud godson. In truth, given his suspicions, he had not expected to like The Terafin. On the day of the funeral she had been unapproachable; everything about her had been so perfect, so utterly rigid, she seemed above the foible and folly of simply being mortal.
But he knew, having met and conversed with her in such an intimate, familial way, that she would, without thought, throw herself against the Warden of Dreams to save even the lowliest of citizens. His granddaughter would have been safe in her hands.
* * *
It was a luxury to wake in the morning in her own bed without facing the prospect of a full Council of The Ten, which made rising and dressing an act of war. The Kings had not, as of late last evening, demanded her presence. She had had an almost entirely self-indulgent dinner with a man who knew most of the details of Rath’s early life—a man who had come to visit because of the loss of a beloved grandchild. She liked Hectore.
Far, far too much for such a short acquaintance, and far too openly.
“Good morning, Avandar.” She crawled out from under Shadow’s wing; it lay across the whole of her upper body. “You,” she said, attempting to push him out of the bed, and having the luck she usually did, “have to go visit Ariel.”
Shadow rolled his great, golden eyes and leaped surprisingly lightly to the carpeted floor. He headed toward the door, which opened to allow him to leave.
“Has Barston sent up today’s schedule?”
“He has. You have a meeting with Levec after the late lunch hour—at the Houses of Healing. I’ve taken the liberty of informing Adam.” Avandar laid out the dress she was to wear for the day, and she grimaced.
“I’m not meeting Kings,” she said, “only an irritable bear of a healer.”
“You are The Terafin,” a familiar voice interjected. “You are expected to dress as if you are a royal.”
“Good morning, Haval.” Judging from his expression, it wasn’t going to remain that way. She accepted Avandar’s choice, and dressed quickly.
The dressmaker inclined his head.
“Stay with Hannerle this afternoon?” she asked, as she sat before her mirror. The maidservant was waiting, brush in hand. Beside it, heating, were irons.
“Do you believe she will wake?”
“I have hopes that she’ll wake and stay that way.”
Haval’s brow rose. Nothing else about his expression changed—but Haval could be dying of an excess of joy without giving any of it away. As if to bolster this assessment, he said, “Rumor has it that you spent last evening with Hectore of Araven in your personal quarters.”
“I did.”
“You are aware that Hectore is one of a scant handful of people who have bested Jarven at his own game?”
“I am. Hectore implied that it was not the only outcome when they clashed.”
“Indeed, it was not. What did Patris Araven come here to discuss?”
“His granddaughter, and his godson.”
“His godson would be Ararath of Handernesse.”
“. . . Yes.”
“Was there a reason—beyond the obviously sentimental—that you chose to entertain Patris Araven in your personal chambers?”
Clearly not a good one, in Haval’s opinion. “Haval, eventually people are going to have to know. I intend to use these rooms as my predecessor did, while it is safe to do so.”
“And you considered it safe to do so? With Patris Araven?”
“Tell me why you feel this was the wrong decision.”