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at the girls and the coach driver before returning to their posts. Britea breathed a sigh of relief as Trevor helped the two students with their bags.

      “Thanks, Trevor,” said the two wielders at the same time.

      “No worries. When that young man deliberately blocked your path, I suspected something was wrong. And Danai taking on that fight stance of her had me running for the merchant guards.”

      “I thought they only guarded the shops,” said Britea in an effort to change the topic.

      “They also patrol the streets. If there’s violence or mayhem, shops can get damaged, people stay at home out of fear, and merchants lose money if order isn’t maintained in the market,” explained Danai.

      “I see.”

      With their bags packed away, Trevor went to untie the horses. Britea made to enter the coach first, but something made her glance over her shoulder. She was startled to see Harto standing several feet away from them. He was staring at Danai with an odd expression on his face.

      “What’s wrong?” asked Danai. Britea glanced at her roommate. “Harto.”

      Danai whipped around, but the officer had disappeared.

      “He was there, watching you.”

      “That lieutenant is trouble,” said Danai in a worried tone.

      “We have got to go ladies!” announced Trevor from his seat atop of the coach.

      “We’re ready!” said Danai as she climbed into the coach.

       #

      Harto tried to control his thoughts as he rode home. He clicked his tongue, and the stallion between his thighs galloped faster. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

      His sole mission today had been to check on a special ceremonial dagger he had commissioned as a birthday gift for his uncle. After checking the progress of the work, he had been preparing to go home…until he caught sight of a certain novice wielder.

      Britea D’Tranell. He had been stunned to see her in the market. He was surprised Warden Asteros had allowed her out. First, she was a late wielder, and how sure were the instructors she was in full control of her abilities? Second, she was at the center of a major diplomatic incident concerning the Namiran government. And now she had gone and discussed it with a Weltonian!

      Danai was the name of the Weltonian lass. He had to admit she was attractive, and the way her body filled out that outfit…he shook his head briefly. He needed to concentrate on the matter at hand.

      Weltonian wielders didn’t study at the colleges. Centuries ago, the Namiran and Malaquey governments had given up on forcing them to enroll. Thus, the adjustments to the Creed.

      But there was one at Syla College and she had been there for four years! And he was just finding this out?

      There was a mystery there, but he wasn’t sure if it was connected to the diplomatic mess Britea D’Tranell had created. If there was a connection, he was going to find it.

      Harto pushed his heels into the sides of his horse, and the loyal steed ran yet faster. The lieutenant enjoyed riding and would have been a racer if not for his abilities.

      Moments later, the tree-lined road to the Flay estate came into view. He slowed so the hidden sentries could get a good look at him. Before he even reached the stable, the grooms were out and waiting. The head groom, an elderly gentleman, stepped forward.

      “My lord, welcome home.” Harto tried not to sigh at the title. He dismounted.

      “Evening, Claren.” He waved away the groom’s outstretched hand. “I’ll brush Thunder Ice down.”

      The head groom smiled dryly. “Of course, sir.”

      It was an ongoing game between the two. Claren had been serving the Flay family for years before Harto was even born; he had taught the young Flay heir how to ride and groom his own horse. Yet, every time Harto returned from riding, the head groom still tried to care for Thunder Ice.

      “Your mother and uncle are home, my lord. They arrived a few minutes ago.”

      He cast a wary look at Claren. “Any special guests and their offspring?”

      “Not at the moment, sir.” Replied the head groom dryly.

      Harto brightened at that news. “I’ll be quick.” Besides, he really needed to talk to his uncle about this Weltonian, Danai.

       #

      Once he was sure Thunder Ice was brushed down well, he changed the drinking water and ensured the horse had fresh hay and food. Harto patted the stallion’s rump on his way out.

      He walked up to the impressive red brick mansion, hiding his unease as he nodded at the male servant who bowed as he passed. Harto didn’t know why it made him uncomfortable. Perhaps that explained why he found Danai’s disrespect refreshing.

      The grand foyer was empty apart from one of the maids who stood with a tray containing a pitcher of ice-cold water and a clean glass.

      “Welcome home, Lord Flay.”

      “Thank you, Mara.”

      She blushed as he said her name. Harto had made it a point to learn everyone’s name, face, and background in his mother’s household so as to better identify any spies.

      He took a sip of the refreshing drink. “Where are Lady Flay and my uncle?”

      “In the lower parlor, my lord. I believe they are waiting for dinner.”

      “Please let them know I’ll be joining them shortly.” He placed his empty glass on the tray and turned away as she bowed her head. He ran up the stairs to wash and change.

      A few minutes later, he felt renewed from sluicing off the dust of Carlelli Market. As he dressed, he studied himself in the mirror. He was tall and well-built, with a thick mane of blond hair. Many members of the fairer gender had assured him he was a fine-looking gentleman. But he took most of their comments with a grain of salt. He knew they were only after his family’s vast wealth, and he suspected their pursuit would be worse if they really knew who he was. A feeling of melancholy filled him.

      “Not now. I have work to do,” he said harshly to himself. He didn’t have time to feel sorry for his situation. Many others were worse off. He pushed his thoughts away and left his chambers.

       #

      “Ah, there’s my beloved son,” said his mother brightly as he strode into the lower parlor. She already had a glass of wine in one hand. He smiled and kissed her on the cheeks. He was a bit disappointed to see his uncle wasn’t in the parlor.

      “Where’s Uncle Peras?”

      “He wanted to wash up, and where is my ‘How was your day, mother?’”

      Harto grinned at her. “How was your day, mother?”

      “As usual, though I did run into Lady Arkei. She’s arranging a little homecoming party for her oldest daughter, Selina, and we’re invited.”

      Harto tried to hide his grimace. “That sounds lovely.” He knew ‘a little coming home party’ was going to be an outrageously expensive get together of gargantuan proportions.

      “When is this little party?”

      Lady Shalina De’tre Flay narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to get out of this one, Harto. I’ve already promised you’ll be there.”

      Harto sighed. “Mother, you know I hate those gatherings.”

      “You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in Malaquey.”

      “No, I’m not.”

      “By now,

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