serve the Halls of Law. My ruler is the Eternal Emperor.” She spoke quietly, but was reminded that the Barrani had excellent hearing when they all fell silent. Part of her was irritated. What she’d said was true. It was fact. Finding fact offensive was pointless.
On the other hand, fact was hundreds of miles away, and offense was up close and personal. She made a mental note not to mention dragons—any dragons—while in the West March. Then again, she probably didn’t have to. Teela had made her take Sanabalis’s amulet out, and the Barrani generally knew what it signified: she belonged to a dragon.
As she fingered the heavy chain, the Lord of the West March frowned. “It is best not to draw attention to what you bear.” It wasn’t the first time she’d visited a Barrani court wearing a sign that said Property of Dragon Lord. In fact, it wasn’t the first time she’d worn this sign. In the High Halls, it had seemed less dangerous.
“I wasn’t allowed to leave until I’d promised to wear it.” But Sanabalis was also hundreds of miles away.
“It is never wise to break an oath given to dragons,” the Lord of the West March told her.
“It’s probably stupid to give them the oath in the first place,” she conceded, falling into her mother tongue. “But we weren’t going to get the information we needed unless I promised to make the pilgrimage to the West March. And I couldn’t make that promise without also taking the amulet.”
“Lord Sanabalis did not feel that my ring would guarantee your safety?”
“It’s probably stupid,” she said, after a long pause, “for me to open my mouth at all.”
He laughed. “It is not in our nature to trust others to protect what is valuable to us. Even were it, that trust would not cross this particular racial divide. I had heard rumor that some Imperial overtures had been made.”
“Yes. But I don’t think that’s going to happen again in this generation.”
“No. The High Court was unamused by the presence of the Emperor upon their land.”
“He was a little angry.”
“Dragons do not generally breathe fire in the middle of the city when they are merely annoyed.”
“I didn’t say he was annoyed—I said he was angry. You can’t blame him. One of the High Lords had just attempted to assassinate the only known female dragon.”
“As a Lord of the High Court, Lord Kaylin, it is best not to spread that sentiment.”
Kaylin, tired and unexpectedly angry herself, said, “She was living with me at the time. Every item of value I owned was destroyed during that attempt.”
The small dragon squawked.
“Almost every item. I understand why Iberrienne tried to kill her. But I’m not willing to pretend that was a good thing. Even if my home hadn’t been ripped to pieces by an Arcane bomb, I still wouldn’t. I’m an Imperial Hawk. ”
“Yes, Lord Kaylin, you are. What I now wonder is what else you might be.” He glanced at the Warden of the West March; Lord Barian was no longer walking. He, and the men who had arrived by his side, had spread out in a line ten yards from Teela, the Lord of the West March, and Kaylin. “Ah. We’ve arrived.”
They had; there was a small stream, too slender to be called a river—and far too shallow—and the Barrani began to line up at its far edge as the Warden of the West March signaled a halt. “A word of advice, Lord Kaylin. The would-be assassin is Outcaste. Do not use his name in polite company.”
And what am I supposed to call him?
Outcaste, Nightshade replied, amused.
Outcaste what? Outcaste number twelve or ninety?
The context will make it clear. The Lord of the West March has claimed you as kin. He will guide you, as you allow. He is not his father; he is not his brother. He is like—very like—his sister. He will indulge you where it is safe to do so. Do not make the mistake of believing his indulgence to be a social norm. It is not.
She wanted, very badly, to fall over and sleep. Had
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley