In fact, the only other time she recalled being this happy was when she had first learned to invoke the Bardic Magic. That was_oh, too many weary years ago, when the world was all new and shining, all music was a delight, and every day brought only new adventures. The world is new again, all music is pleasure, and there are more possibilities in each new day than I can count....
She knew what she was doing_
Oh, do I?
Well, she knew what she was doing, but the consequences? Did she know that as well? Could she even guess at the consequences?
They passed through the statue-lined hallways in silence and met no one. It was the dinner hour; most of those who lived on this floor were in the Great Hall, dining in the presence of the High King and his Advisors. Perhaps by now the word that Harperus had identified another of his attackers had made its way to the Hall. Perhaps it had not. No one would know until tomorrow that she had stayed in T'fyrr's suite.
But once again, she blushed. She did not want his name and hers in the mouths of these idle courtiers, who would speculate and gossip maliciously just out of sheer boredom. Some would use the gossip to further damage their cause with the High King. Others would use it to create whatever damage they could elsewhere.
There were Church laws about the congress of humans and those who were not_based on Holy Writ forbidding the congress of humans and demons.
Only now was she recalling those strictures; only now that there was a moment of leisure was she able to think of them. Her earlier embarrassment had probably been because, in the back of her mind, she knew that there could be trouble over this.
Oh, it was just because I knew there would be gossip, hurtful gossip. And that someone in this vast hulk would use that gossip to cause trouble for us.
"I doubt that anyone will believe that you and I are partnering," he murmured quietly, for her ears alone. Once again, he had guessed what she was thinking from the emotions her thoughts engendered. "Most of these folk hawk for game in the game preserve, you know. Most have falcons and other raptors, and know something about them. How do you tell a male raptor from a female?"
"By the size, usually," she replied vaguely, unable to guess what his meaning was. Then it occurred to her, and she bit her lips to cover a giggle. "Oh_oh, of course! You can't tell a male from a female by sight, unless they have different feather-colorations. They don't have_what you have!"
"Precisely," T'fyrr said, dryly humorous. "Only Nob knows that I am not like a hawk in that respect, and he will take that secret to his grave if I ask it of him. The rest assume I am as externally sexless as a saints statue. I have heard as much, through Nob. He is very good at listening and reporting what he has heard, and no one pays any attention to the pages."
So, he had discovered that for himself, had he? It was an echo of her own observation, that no one ever paid any attention to the children. Once again, their minds ran on parallel tracks!
She squeezed his hand by way of reply, and he squeezed hers in return, just as they reached the door of his suite_which now also had a pair of the Royal Bodyguards standing watch outside. T'fyrr bid them both a grave goodnight, and they returned his salutation.
When they closed the door of the suite behind them and locked it, T'fyrr paused and looked around the room. Someone had already been here, leaving the lamps lit and food in covered dishes on the sideboard. That was probably standing orders, since he had mentioned more than once that he was not welcome to dine in the Great Hall. She wondered for a moment what he was frowning at, until she saw his eyes resting on each of the "sculptures" in turn.
"Have you any idea how sensitive those are?" he asked her quietly. "Could they hear into the next room, do you think?"
She had to shake her head. "I haven't a clue," she admitted.
"Well, then since I do not believe that Tyladen is entitled to any vestige of my private life, and since I believe him to be as enthusiastic a voyeur as he is a coward, I think that for one night there will be no listening." He took each of the "sculptures" in turn and buried it under a pile of pillows and cushions thieved from the furniture.
"There," he said with satisfaction. "That should take care of that!"
He turned to her and held out his hand again. She took it, the dry, hard skin feeling warmer than usual beneath her hand. "I would like a bath," he said. "Would you?"
She nodded, unable to actually say anything.
"I do warn you," he continued, "I look altogether miserable when wet. If your romantic inclinations survive the sight of me with my feathers plastered to my skin, they will survive anything."
She smiled, suddenly shy. "I suspect they will survive," she said in a low voice. "Yours may not survive seeing me without a beautiful costume to make up for my otherwise_"
He put a talon across her lips and led her into the bathroom, where they discovered that romance survives a great many trials, and thrives on laughter.
Harperus was still bedridden, many days later; T'fyrr had come to make one of his morning visits.
He had not been the only visitor, but Harperus' second guest had come as the bearer of bad tidings.
The Captain of the Bodyguards left them after delivering his unwelcome news, and if a mans retreating back could signal chagrin, profound embarrassment, and disgust with a situation, his did.
It well should have.
"I cannot believe this!" T'fyrr exploded, once the Captain was out of the suite and out of earshot. Harperus shrugged, philosophically, from the shelter of his huge bed. The bruise on his forehead had faded to an unpleasant pale green and brown, and on the whole he was doing well. But the effects of the self-healing trance_and the exhaustion of handling what had probably been a cracked skull as well as a concussion_were longer-lasting than either of them had anticipated.
"I had actually expected something like this," the Deliambren said with a sigh. "I didn't want to say anything, lest I be seen to imply that Theovere's people are less than competent, but I was holding my breath over it. If a man can be spirited away from a locked and guarded room in the Palace, surely the city gaols are no more secure."
T'fyrr only snarled, and his talons scraped across the floor as he flexed his feet angrily.
No sooner had the man Harperus identified been arrested, taken into custody, and turned over to a city gaol, than he was free again. This time it was nothing so obvious as a guard being seduced. No, the man escaped from a locked and barred cell, and a lace handkerchief had been left in his place.
It seemed that their mysterious female adversary was not above taunting them.
Damn her. Whoever she is. She had to be someone either in high Court circles herself, or with connections there. There was no other way that she could have known that the man had been arrested, much less that he had been taken to a particular city gaol. There were three main gaols, after all, and a dozen lesser ones, never mind the many Church gaols; he could have been in any of them.