She bowed her head submissively, and the unctuous one turned back to Lord Tylar. By your leave, my lord, we will return to the Council with these tidings.
He nodded; they turned and left through the Portal door.
As soon as they were gone, he chuckled. Sheyrena raised her eyes, feigning shyness.
You have done very well, Sheyrena, he said, and studied her. He blinked once or twice, as if in surprise. I do believe that your ordeal has actually improved your looks, girl! he exclaimed, in a voice full of astonishment. By the Ancestors, you actually are attractive^
Thank you, Father, she replied meekly; she flushed with anger, but dropped her eyes so that he would assume that it was a blush of embarrassment.
This—this all puts a new complexion on things, he muttered, and drummed his fingers on his desk. You are of full elven blood, and now my only heir—your value as a marriage-piece is a great deal higher than when you were stolen. Hmm.
He got up from his desk, came around to her side, and put a finger under her chin, tilting it up so that he could study her face. Hmm, he repeated, as she veiled her eyes with her lashes to hide her anger. Add to that the fact that you're no longer a little cream-faced loon, but a handsome little thing—your value is even greater.
He allowed her to drop her head again, and stood beside her chair. She didn't reply, but he didn't seem to expect her to.
You may go, he finally said, abruptly.
She took him at his word, rose unsteadily, curtsied, and fled. And once she was back in the safety of her own chamber, she took the packets of jewelry from their hiding places, and quickly concealed them in the best of all hiding places, and the one place no man would ever look—
—in the midst of all the other jewelry in her valuables chest.
Then, and only then, did she strip off her gown without calling for her maids, slip into her bed in her petticoat, and fall into an exhausted sleep.
Her father woke her—or rather, her maids did, fluttering about, agitated beyond measure that he was waiting outside and she was in no state to receive him! In something of a fog, she let them gown her again, and brush out her hair; the very instant she was decent, he swept in with all the high drama of a state entrance.
Have your maids pack up your things, Sheyrena, he said to her. You are moving to the bower.
She stared at him stupidly; he smiled, the smile of someone who is doing what he wants and thinks he is conferring a tremendous favor.
You are my only right-born child, Sheyrena, he said, ponderously, and he held out a hand. She put her own in his, not really knowing what he wanted, and he set a ring of keys into it—the same ring of keys she had seen her mother wearing, for as long as she could remember.
You are the lady of the House, he told her. You now have charge of the bower and the household. At her look of naked shock and dismay, he laughed. Oh, don't worry, child—it's only an honor and a title. The slaves really see to it all. You only need to see to it that the slaves know to come to you for their orders, and I will tell you what to tell them.
Yes, Father, she faltered.
His smile broadened. You are far too valuable to waste on the likes of Lord Gildor, he said, sounding very pleased with himself. I have sent my regrets to Lord Gildor, telling him that you are too precious to me now, and that I cannot bear to be without your comfort and company. I have dissolved the betrothal.
You have? She stared at him; she would not have believed that he would go that far!
He mistook her astonishment for dismay. Oh, don't be disappointed, child! You are worth ten Gildors now! No, now, listen to me closely.
She shut her mouth, and kept her face carefully schooled into the appearance of attentiveness.
I am going to find you a marriage-alliance that will put our House in the ranks of the High Lords, he told her gleefully. You have a job to do, a very important one. You must not allow this present attractiveness to fade, and that is an order! I want you to rise every morning, put yourself right into the hands of your maids, make yourself presentable, and keep yourself that way! None of these afternoon naps, when you can't be viewed! No disappearing for long rides! Don't go hiding in the garden as if you were a child! Is that understood?
Yes, Father, she replied, flushing again with anger. And, predictably, he interpreted the anger as embarrassment.
Now, Sheyrena, don't be upset, he said, in what he probably thought was a coaxing tone. I'm not angry with you, but you aren't a child anymore, and you are far too important to the House now to play your childish games. Just do as you are told, and things will work out wonderfully for you. Just wait and see!
Yes, Father, she replied, still flushed.
I have decided, now that virtually every lord on the Council knows your name and your story, to announce that you are free for betrothal at the next Council meeting. It will make a pleasant diversion for everyone from our final preparations for war against the wizards. I will be able to marshal my forces beside those of whoever becomes your lord. He beamed, as if he had thought of something terribly clever. I shall—ah—put you up for bid, so to speak. And I do expect the bidding to be brisk!
But Lord Gildor— she said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Hah! He laughed. Put him from your mind. I don't know who your husband-to-be will be, yet, but you can take it as written that whoever he is, he will be as high above Lord Gildor as Lord Gildor is above the chief of my guards!
But all that Rena could think—could hope—was that Mero would be able to read all of this from her thoughts, for she had no other way to send him this all-important message. The elves were about to break the treaty and the truce—months before any of them had thought possible!
Shana fumed, as she stood before the assembled wizards in the bare cavern they used for their meeting place, wanting very much to knock sense into several heads with a large and heavy stick! Especially the head of Caellach Gwain—and why had he chosen to take this line now, when he had been the one howling about the danger of the elven lords only a few months ago?
And how is Lorryn doing, and what is Lorryn doing, and why do I never hear from him, only from Mero? Does he—would he—damn it all, Shana, keep your mind on your enemies! But—he's in the midst of the worst of those enemies—
I am telling you, I have it nearly from the mouth of one of the High Lords of the Council himself! she growled, biting off the words savagely. 'The elves know where we are, they are going to attack, and they are going to do it soon! They're coordinated enough to put up a Portal to bring their troops right to our doorstep!
Oh, please, said Caellach Gwain, waving a hand languidly. This is an old tale, and we're weary of hearing it. We haven't seen any signs of this so-called mustering of troops you've been ranting about.
That's because she snarled impatiently, the troops are all being mustered on the estates of three of the High Lords who you have been afraid to watch!
And who is this informant of yours? Caellach asked shrewdly.
She didn't answer at first. They wouldn't believe her, even though they had seen Rena themselves, if only briefly. They would never believe Rena could keep her head long enough to be of any use as a spy. I'm not about to blurt out any names when there might be a traitor among you! she snapped.