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substructures in the High Court, or she would pester me.

      “She could ask the Lord of the West March, and may be forced to do just that if the situation with your friends deteriorates; he is familiar with Hallionne Orbaranne, and the Hallionne appears to be attached to him. But if his political strength is significant, his reach is compromised by his position; he does not dwell in the High Halls. Any threat of retribution made is made and taken with that understanding: time and distance are issues.

      “She could, of course, ask An’Teela, but An’Teela will not answer. She might ask Lord Andellen, but he is almost a political outsider; his tenure as Lord of the High Court expires when Kaylin expires. He cannot build positions of true influence when he serves an outcaste.

      “I believe that Kaylin is safe with the Consort; the Consort is safe with Kaylin, and not solely because she is mortal and relatively harmless. We speak that lie frequently, but the Consort does not believe it. Regardless, she will ask. Let her ask there. If she is with the Consort, no one will attack her; if she is with the Consort, none but the most subtle will attempt to engage her at all.”

      “Such subtlety does exist at Court,” Teela said.

      “Yes.”

      “I will go with her.”

      * * *

      Kaylin used Helen’s begrudged mirror room to make what amounted to an appointment to speak with the Consort; the Consort was not Kaylin, and no one except perhaps possibly the High Lord, just “dropped in” for a visit. Because Barrani didn’t need to sleep, the High Halls were never closed for business. Someone in official, or at least elegant, clothing responded to the mirror, activated it, and—with a narrowing of blue eyes, bid her wait.

      He returned, his expression completely neutral, informed her that the Consort was willing to entertain her very “unusual” request, and told her when to arrive.

      And then, hearing Annarion’s raised voice in the background, Kaylin cringed and snuck back to her room and her interrupted sleep.

       8

      “Look, you don’t have to come. I’m not a four-year-old foundling caught sneaking cookies before meal time, and you are not my mother.”

      Teela wore Court dress, not Hawk tabard. Kaylin, technically a Lord of the High Court, was in work gear and did not intend to change. It was hard, however, to stand beside Teela in all of her elegant finery and not feel dirty, undereducated and powerless. The Hawk helped, but not much. On the other hand, her relationship with the quartermaster had never recovered from the only time she had dressed in Court-appropriate gear, and frankly, the quartermaster could make her daily life a lot more miserable than the High Court could.

      Severn, likewise in tabard, accompanied her. The Hawklord had not only agreed to the meeting, but had insisted that Kaylin be paid for it—which meant it was official duty. This had drawbacks, of course. If it was official, everything was to be reported, and those reports—at least the ones Marcus didn’t shred in frustration before signing—were headed for Records in one form or another.

      Because Teela was not on duty for this particular meeting, Tain wasn’t with them. Bellusdeo, who had Imperial permission to tag along on Kaylin’s duties, excused herself. Technically, Bellusdeo could demand to be allowed to follow, but the cost of that would probably be drastically reduced Imperial permission in future.

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