to me what it was.’
They were discomfited by his response. It was not what either of them had expected. He smiled easily and stepped forwards, invading Melissa’s personal space. He was aware of exactly the effect his physical presence had on women. He leaned forwards, intimately and whispered in her ear, ‘Tell me what was so funny.’
She stepped away a little flustered. He smiled at her friends as if they had been sharing a confidence. He saw that they were all looking in this direction now. Melissa looked down over her left shoulder and then back up at him, and he was suddenly aware that he had changed the dynamic between the three of them completely.
‘I meant nothing at all,’ she murmured and retreated to her circle of friends.
Tyrion looked at Liselle and raised an eyebrow. ‘I think Melissa was hinting, rather indelicately, that your parents might have used certain forbidden magics,’ said Liselle ‘Or been involved with certain forbidden cults. Just as she was at first hinting that twins might be rare among high elves but not among dark elves. She likes to think she has a subtle wit.’
‘Why would she say that?’ Tyrion asked, genuinely puzzled. ‘About my parents.’
‘There are certain rumours,’ said Liselle. ‘There always are. It’s that kind of city.’
Tyrion decided he would need to take this matter up with his brother. Teclis always knew more about this kind of thing than his brother. ‘If you will excuse me for a few moments, I will be right back.’
He walked over to Teclis, passing Melissa and Lord Larien and their little clique. He smiled as he passed, as if there was nothing more delightful than their attention.
‘An animal,’ he heard one of the women say, as he walked by.
‘But a rather beautiful one,’ said somebody else. He thought it was Lady Melissa.
‘She said what?’ Teclis sounded annoyed. Tyrion smiled as if his brother had just made a joke. He glanced around. Lady Malene was involved in a discussion about seafaring with Iltharis and Korhien. No one was paying them any attention.
‘Hush, brother,’ said Tyrion. ‘Do not let them upset you. I suspect that it is what they want. They seem to take pleasure in that sort of thing around here. In this game it appears to be the way you score points.’
‘They are talking about our parents, Tyrion. They are hinting that they were members of the Cult of Luxury, a forbidden cult, associated with the worship of daemon gods. With the Lord of Pleasure, the One Who is not Named.’ Teclis had lowered his voice now. This was not a subject anyone wanted to be overheard talking about. This was a thing mentioned only in whispers, talked about obliquely, never confronted directly.
‘I cannot picture our father being involved in such a thing,’ said Teclis. ‘Can you?’
Tyrion tried to imagine his father anywhere else but in his workroom or reading a musty tome of magic. It was impossible. There was no way to picture him being involved in forbidden rites. It was as easy to imagine him captaining a slaving ship from Naggaroth. ‘No.’
Teclis became thoughtful. ‘And yet we are here, twins. And twins are indeed rare among elves.’
Tyrion remained quiet. He could see his brother was giving serious thought to the matter. He had always been one to try and see all sides of an issue.
‘I do not think it is possible,’ he said eventually.
‘I am glad we are in agreement then,’ said Tyrion. ‘Why would anyone spread such rumours?’
‘Malice,’ said Teclis. ‘You know what elves are like.’
‘Surely there are better targets for such malice,’ said Tyrion. ‘Our father is an old, poor elf living in seclusion in the mountains. No one gains anything by saying such things about him.’
‘Everybody always has to have a reason with you, don’t they, brother? Has it ever occurred to you they might do it for the simple pleasure of the thing.’
Tyrion could not see what that pleasure might be, but he was starting to realise that he might be unusual in that last respect.
‘You have a good heart,’ Teclis said eventually. He said it as if it was an accusation of weakness. Tyrion did not take it personally.
‘Be that as it may, I think it is safest to assume someone somewhere has a motive for spreading this rumour now. If it is not aimed at our father, it is most likely aimed at our dear, rich relatives.’
Teclis nodded. ‘Possible. Or it may just be that we are the topic