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“It proves everything,” said Kiel, removing the last vase. The back of the bookshelf exposed, Kiel rapped on it, then pried one end up with his knife. The panel squeaked open and he peered inside. Rhillian found herself almost hoping that he found nothing within. Instead, Kiel reached inside and withdrew some light, cream squares of paper, fastened with a red wax seal and ribbon. “This seal looks very interesting. Ah the arrogant stupidity of nobles, having bought all the Blackboots and justiciars, and assuming no one would dare invade their sanctum.”

Rhillian let out a long breath, and stared at the wall. Kiel gathered the last of the papers, and looked at her, seeming almost cheerful.

“Well,” he ventured, “to borrow the human expression, this rather turns over a new leaf, wouldn’t you say?”

“It does indeed,” Rhillian said. “Let us hope that leaf does not become a forest.”

Sasha strode down the Tol’rhen hall, still damp from her wash following morning training. Her muscles ached from working too hard, as happened when she lost her temper. Passing students gave her wary looks, and kept their distance.

She reached the class chamber, where twelve students sat at tables and made markings on parchment, faces screwed up with concentration. Errollyn walked slowly among them, observing their work. His hair was also damp, though Sasha had not seen him at training.

He leaned down now to indicate with a finger the line a student’s quill should have been tracing on the parchment. The female student (more than half of them were) gazed up at him anxiously. Rapturously. Sasha’s temper boiled once more.

“Errollyn,” she snapped. All in the class looked up…save for Errollyn.

“It can wait,” he said, and redirected the girl’s attention to her quill work. It was o’rhen, the old serrin calligraphy that outdated most of their spoken tongues, yet remained the preferred style of writing for scholars and poets. Sasha had never known Errollyn to have a particular interest in the old penmanship, but the Tol’rhen had its way of bringing out a person’s scholarly side.

“It can’t fucking wait!” Sasha retorted in Lenay.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he informed the class, and walked to the door, grabbing Sasha none too gently along the way. Once in the hallway, she smacked his arm away.

“Where have you been?”

“In class,” he said. His green eyes narrowed at her.

“Last night!” Sasha pressed. “I hear you shared a room with Emisile!”

“After you kicked me out of my own bed, yes,” said Errollyn. “The alternative being to sleep in the hall.”

“In her bed?”

“On her large, comfortable rug with some cushions,” said Errollyn. “I should have fucked her. She wanted me to, it would have served you right.”

He grabbed her once more and hustled her toward an empty room. Sasha struggled, and Errollyn simply pinned her arms and picked her up. She forgot sometimes just how much bigger he was than her.

Inside, he put her down and pressed her hard against a wall. “What right do you have to kick me out of my own bed, and then complain where I choose to sleep?”

“My sister’s in a Justiciary dungeon because of you!” Sasha shouted.

“Your sister’s in a dungeon because she allied herself with traitors,” Errollyn said sharply. “I’m as sorry she’s there as you are, but-”

“You fucking liar!” Sasha shoved him hard away. He backed up. “What possessed you to go to Rhillian before me?”

“I did go to you, I told you all about what I found-”

“Horse shit! You told me you found evidence of Lady Renine’s treachery, you never told me the details! And I told you you’d be crazy to go to Rhillian, because she would overreact and turn Tracato upside down! And she has!”

“Who else then?” Errollyn demanded. “Kessligh’s hands are tied because half of the Nasi-Keth are in love with the Civid Sein, and think this is just the excuse to kill all the feudalists…”

“And they don’t now?”

“Rhillian can stop them! She’s the only balance in this city. Someone had to stop Lady Renine, and the only two forces that could were Rhillian backed by the Steel, or the Civid Sein! Which would you choose?”

Sasha stared at the ceiling, hands to her head.

“Sasha,” Errollyn persisted, “I’m sorry Alythia got caught up in this, but Lady Renine has forces that can’t be underestimated. What if she declared open rebellion when the Steel were at the front? A quarter of the Steel has feudalist loyalties, the army could split just on that declaration alone.”

“Damn it, you didn’t know that. You were guessing. If anything happens to Alythia because of this…”

She couldn’t complete the sentence. Errollyn stepped back. He looked remote, in that way he sometimes had, when he pulled back, and trusted no one. He’d always been an outsider among his own people. Could he have been reaching out to them, seeking to prove himself with this act? Surely they must trust him now. Sasha knew how much it had hurt him to be cast out after Petrodor.

He shook his head, and walked for the door.

“Wait! You’re just going to leave?”

He stopped. “I don’t like arguing as much as you do,” he said. “What else do you want?” Sasha stared at him. “Make up your mind. You can either be angry with me and thrust me away, or you can forgive me, and let me back in. You can’t have both. And I’m not going to go chasing after you to beg for forgiveness. Lenays aren’t the only ones with pride.”

“Good for you, finally a serrin who understands the term.”

She walked past him to leave. Errollyn grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She hit him in the chest, and he caught her and pulled her close. Suddenly they were kissing, frantically, hands grasping to burrow beneath each other’s clothes. It had been a while since they’d gone a day without sex, Sasha managed to think as she sought purchase with her back against the wall. Perhaps that was all it was. Or perhaps it was fear. They’d argued before, but rarely as heatedly as this.

There was a storage closet at the room’s end, which was cramped, but with the door pulled to, safe enough from immediate discovery. With no room to lie, and nothing to sit on, they stood, belts unfastening with fumbling hands as Sasha tried to think of something she could do to take charge, because she was still angry, and not about to just submit to his male attentions. But there was nothing but the obvious, and frantic lust compelled her to turn about, braced against a wall, and let Errollyn take her from behind until her legs threatened to give way from the shaking, and his fingers made bruise marks upon her waist and hip. Even now, he made sure she climaxed first. As she recovered, she found that funny, and nearly laughed.

There was a silence as they dressed. Sasha wondered what to say. It had never been a problem between them before. She still hadn’t forgiven him. Was their relationship nothing more than this? Mutual need? No. Of course not, she was just angry, and thinking crazy things. And she’d never fucked angry before. Everything was confusing, and she had no idea what to make of it. Neither, it seemed, did Errollyn.

Finally she buckled her belt, and left the closet. Errollyn followed. They walked the hall in silence. Errollyn turned back into his class, and Sasha kept walking.

The Tol’rhen hallways were filled with running students and crowds of Civid Sein. Many farmers held pitchforks and other tools, while students bundled large banners, scrawled with Rhodaani script. Others piled torches against a wall, and smeared them with oil from earthen jars, ready to burn.

Sasha waved down a girl she recognised.

“Hala, what’s going on?”

“Reynold is organising a march on the Tracato courthouse!” said Hala with enthusiasm, clutching a bundle of linen. “There should be several thousand people marching!”