«You're so mean! It isn't fair!»
«Fair has nothing to do with it. I'm reminding you of realities».
«Fah! for realities», Marie muttered. «I want him, Alyce».
«And I want lots of things, dear sister, but merely wanting is not necessarily enough».
The sound of approaching footsteps stayed her from saying more, and she fell silent, glancing up distractedly as someone in a flash of saffron-colored skirts and a cloak of forest green came in and deposited an armload of scarlet ribbons and pine cones at their feet.
«I'm so glad you've used mostly pine and ivy instead of holly», said a low, musical voice. «The pine has a much nicer smell. But I thought you might like to work some color in with it. Besides, I'm avoiding Lady Rosmerta».
Both sisters broke into appreciative grins. In the months following Keryell’s remarriage, Vera Howard had been one of several well-born girls fostered to the household of his new countess — much to the indignation, at first, of Marie, who had tearfully suggested that perhaps their father's motives had been more self-serving than altruistic, by installing half a dozen nubile young women in the very accessible context of his new wife's boudoir…
«That sounds like jealousy to me, Mares», Alyce had declared, trying to cajole her sister out of her mood. «I know you're angry with Father, for sending us away; and I know you don't much like the Lady Rosmerta — I don't, either. But by that reasoning, we were living in the queen's household for the convenience of the king — and you know that isn't true!»
Marie had humphed at that, and flounced around the room for several minutes, but finally had agreed, albeit grudgingly, that Alyce was probably right. When, a few months later, the two of them had actually met some of their stepmother's fosterlings, in conjunction with a brief visit by their father and stepmother en route to Twelfth Night court in Rhemuth, even Marie had actually liked the other girls.
They especially had liked Vera Howard, the one who had just joined them: a lively, well-spoken lass with honey-brown hair falling straight to her hips and gray-green eyes that recalled the luminance of sunlight on a tranquil sea. Vera's father was Sir Orban Howard, a knight with lands not far from Castle Cynfyn, and her mother and theirs had been close friends.
«I've given up working with holly», Alyce informed the newcomer. «It prickles your fingers to death — though it does have nice color. But the ribbons will be just what's needed. I don't suppose you'd like to give us a hand?»
«Actually, I did come to offer a bit of help», Vera replied, «though not with pine boughs». She quirked them a guileless smile and turned briefly to pull the chapel door closed, then sank down beside Alyce on the bench. As she stretched one hand before them and opened it, a spark of greenish light flared in her palm and quickly took on the shape of a winged gryphon less than a hand-span high.
The apparition turned its head as if to look at both of them; then, as it spread its wings, seemed to fold in on itself before disappearing with a faint pop that was more felt than heard.
«Who are you?» Alyce demanded, though instinctively she kept her query to a whisper, for it was clear that Vera was Deryni like herself. Marie merely stared at the other girl in wonder.
Vera ventured another tentative smile. «Your father told me that I am your sister».
«What?» Marie blurted.
Shaking her head, Vera laid one finger across her lips in an urgent sign for silence, cutting her off in mid-word.
«I promise you, it isn't what you're maybe thinking», she whispered, humor crinkling at the corners of her eyes, «though our sire was quite the ladies' man. Actually, you and I are twins», she said to Alyce. «Fortunately, not identical, though I would love to have had hair like yours». She nodded toward Alyce's pale braid. «But if we'd been identical, our parents never would have been able to carry off the deception».
«But — how is that possible?» Alyce whispered, stunned.
Again glancing toward the door, Vera delved into the bodice of her gown and withdrew a folded piece of parchment, well sealed with green wax.
«This is for you», she said, holding it up so that the seal was visible.
The familiar imprint on the seal showed the Corwyn gryphon as an escutcheon of pretense over the arms of Lendour, as Keryell had used them in his capacity as Earl of Lendour and one of Corwyn's regents.
«I see that you recognize the seal», Vera went on. «Before Father left on this last Mearan expedition, he asked me to keep this for you, in case anything ever happened to him. He said I was to make certain you read it in a safe place, where you wouldn't be disturbed, because it can only be read once».
At Alyce's look of bewilderment, Vera shook her head. «Don't ask me more until you've read it — and I trust you've been Truth-Reading me while I'm telling you this. I know you can do that».
As Alyce slowly nodded, Vera turned the packet of parchment to display writing on the side without the wax seals.
«You recognize the hand?» she asked, as Marie crowded closer to see it as well.
Alyce swallowed audibly and nodded.
«All right, here's what you need to do». Vera placed the packet in Alyce's free hand and closed the fingers around it.
«Take this up to the altar rail, as close as possible to Father's grave. That way, if anyone should come in while we're doing this, they'll think you're simply praying. Marie and I will continue making garlands, and if necessary, I'll fend off intruders».
«What if it's Father Paschal?» Marie asked. «He could come through the sacristy».
«It's all right. He knows about this».
«Father Paschal knows about you?» Alyce broke in.
«Well, of course. Who do you think trained me?»
«But… he never mentioned…»
«No, and he hasn't told me much about you», Vera countered. «That was to protect all of us. Especially in your case, he was somewhat concerned that Father had given Lady Jessamy access to some of your training triggers».
«She's rarely used them», Alyce murmured, stunned. «We've not spent that much time at court».
«Would you necessarily know if she'd used them?» Vera replied. «She did come occasionally to Arc-en-Ciel, didn't she?»
«Well, yes — but Jessilde was usually with us then».
«Jessilde — who is Jessamy's daughter. It isn't likely, Alyce, but they could have been working together, to check on you occasionally, if only to see how Paschal's training was progressing. Now does it become clear why Father felt the need to be so careful?»
«But, she would never…»
«Alyce, we don't know what she would never do», Vera pointed out. «Have you forgotten who her father was?»
«I — hadn't thought about that», Alyce admitted.
«I didn't think you had. And I believe that Paschal has avoided reminding you, for fear of planting an idea in your mind that Jessamy might discover, if she did try to abuse the trust she was given».
Alyce found herself shivering at the idea that Jessamy might have been doing just that, without her knowledge. Marie's eyes were huge with wonder.
«If that's a real concern», Alyce whispered, «what happens when we go back to court? For the next few years, we're going to be there all the time, now that Father is gone».
«Father Paschal intends to modify your triggers before you leave — though I don't think he intends that Lady Jessamy should know. And he certainly doesn't intend that she should know about me. Ahern, of course, doesn't know anything about any of this, except that I've been fostered here for the past three or four years».