And now—now she was going out of her way to spend time with him she could have been spending alone. She was fussing with her clothing and hair, things she hadn't cared about in a year or more. She had confided things to him that she hadn't told anyone else—not facts, but feelings, the way she hated being the Elvenbane, the horrible weight it put on her when people expected miracles of her, and the worse weight of rancor when they didn't. She had confessed how the burden of responsibility often felt as if it was going to crush her spirit—and precisely how poor a leader she really was, when it came down to cases.
She thought he understood. At least he listened. He didn't trivialize what she was feeling.
She shook her head a little, and tied off the end of her braid. She'd made a kind of appointment with him tonight, him and him alone, because there was something else going on with their little group of conspirators that could cause some difficulties if he disapproved. She didn't know if he'd noticed, but it seemed to her that she'd better talk to him about this business of Mero and his sister just in case he hadn't.
Although how he could not notice, when the two of them were taking long walks in the moonlight before bed at precisely the same time, she had no idea. Then again, males were sometimes a bit more oblivious to that than females were, or so she'd heard.
She slipped out of the tent, the empty tent. Mero had already gone off on his quest for exercise ; Keman and Kalamadea were hunting. The two elves were entertaining their captors, and would not be back until after midnight at best. There was no one to notice her going.
Kala noticed her arrival, though, when she presented herself to the Priest-guard at the entrance to Diric's tent. That wise woman only smiled, assured the guard that Dine was expecting the demon, and waved her inside.
Diric, of course, was nowhere to be found; Kala went off to her side of the tent, chuckling at something under her breath. Shana was just as glad she hadn't insisted on playing escort. This was going to be difficult enough as it was.
Lorryn was waiting at the entrance to his slice of tent, holding the flap of the partition open for her, his golden hair shining with the sheen of the true metal in the lamplight. I heard you outside, he said by way of explanation.
She slipped inside and he dropped the flap behind her, taking his favorite pillow and gesturing to hers. So what was so important that you needed to talk to me late at night— one eyebrow rose shrewdly —without Rena? And without Mero? Both of whom seem to have pressing concerns elsewhere. Or can I guess?
I think you already have, she replied, both relieved and a little deflated at the same time. After the way she'd been steeling herself to present the terrible revelation to him—
So my precious sister is falling in love with a halfblood, if she hasn't done so already. He shook his head dolefully. Aye me, what is this world coming to? It is the end of civilization as we know it! Unnatural! Depraved! He pulled a long face and stroked an imaginary beard with feigned agitation in a clever imitation of a horrified elder of any race.
It was so clever that she broke into a fit of giggles; he grinned, and dropped the pretense.
As long as you don't mind, how could I? he countered. Mero is your friend, after all, and I don't know what he could have meant to you before this. And I'm not asking, he added hastily, before she could say anything. Rena is her own woman, and has the right to make up her own mind about who she ties herself to in any way. The Ancestors know she paid for that right.
He fell silent for a moment, but she sensed he had a bit more to say. She was betrothed to a complete idiot, just before we ran away. It was Lord Tylar's idea, a marriage-alliance with a family that was older and more powerful than ours, and he would have had her mind altered before if he had to if that was what it would take to put the marriage through. She says that, and in retrospect, I believe her. How could I not wish her well?
Shana shrugged. Mero and I have never been more than friends, although his cousin tried to play matchmaker between us. It didn't work. And the least said about that, the better. I know that he really likes Rena as a person, and I know he'll never treat her as less than a person. After that? She shrugged again. Who knows? Whatever happens, happens. When we get back to the Citadel, though, I don't think you need to worry about the wizards refusing to take her in. Not after what Valyn did for us.
He sighed. I have to admit that I had been worried about that; if you wouldn't take her, I'd have to go with her. I couldn't abandon her too.
Too?
She was aching with curiosity, but she wouldn't ask; not with the pain in his eyes so stark, it matched any of her own burdens. But he looked up from his hands, and he offered her the answer, like a gift.
Mother—Elven Lady Viridina—is my real mother; it was my father who was the human, he told her softly. She sheltered me with illusion until I was old enough to understand, told me what I was, and taught me to protect myself. I told you why we had to run, that mages of the Council were coming to test me for illusion, to unmask me as a halfblood. Father knows that he is fullblooded; I couldn't stay to be discovered, but by running, I practically admitted I'm a halfblood. So that leaves—
Your mother as having taken a human lover, Shana breathed. And it would have to have been a deliberate pregnancy, wouldn't it?
It means the end of everything for her, he acknowledged, bleakly. She can feign insanity; she can create a false memory for the Council members of having her own child born dead and a halfblood substituted by the midwife. If they choose to press the subject, that won't explain why I looked like a fullblood from the beginning, but if she pretends to go insane, all they'll do is lock her up in Lord Tylar's keeping. But she'll live out all of her time in three small rooms, a prisoner in her own home, denied anything but the most basic necessities. Lord Tylar will never forgive her deception; more than that, he will never forgive the implication that he could not father a son.
He was more troubled and guilty than he appeared; Shana sensed that clearly. He felt as if everything that was happening to his mother now was somehow his fault. Unfortunately, there wasn't a great deal she could say, and none of it would be very comforting or ease his burden of guilt.
So rather than mouth platitudes, she kept her thoughts to herself, and simply let what comfort could come from her presence ease him. Finally he looked up from his clasped hands with a wan smile.
I have one question for you, Shana—but I'm afraid it's personal and entirely impertinent, and I have no right to ask it
Oh? Then you might as well, she told him. I'm supposedly an expert in impertinence.
Were you in love with Valyn?
Since she had just been pondering that very question herself, it caught her unawares, and she answered before she could stop herself. If you'd asked me that a month ago, I'd have said yes, she replied with an honesty that shocked her as she listened to the words coming from her own mouth. Now—I'm not sure. I'm beginning to think—maybe not.
Ah, he replied, and his smile became a bit less wan. Good.
Good? she asked sharply. Why good?
Because it means I have a chance, he said, his own candor shocking her further, as he unclasped his hands and captured one of hers. I can do my best, and see if it's enough—but it wouldn't be enough if you'd been in love with Valyn. I can't compete with a ghost
Oh. That was all she could manage, as she stared at him with wide, round eyes. I see.