ella enchanted: the site

Of Humans and Fairies
by Tessandra (© Tessandra, 2002)

Chapter Six :: The Seer

“The seer,” I echoed, staring at Aiven, then the lord. You have got to be kidding, I thought to myself as I returned my astonished gaze to my companion. He caught my eyes squarely and held it, seeming only the tiniest bit embarrassed. I closed my mouth firmly, sure I must be gaping like an idiot. “Well,” I said flicking my red hair over my shoulder, smoothly covering my awkwardness, “that’s a new one.”

“Do introduce us to your companion, Lord Seer,” the lady said, looking at me curiously.

“Damslae of Yvonhe – Cyri, to be exact,” he said, as I had admitted being from the capital. Then he turned to me. “And these are Lord Koilun, Lady Jainalii and their son Lord Kieran of Jorins.”

What was I supposed to do? I would have *liked* to turn around and rage at Aiven, but the three on horseback and the rest of their train were looking on. Instead, I ground my teeth, smiled, and curtsied low. The nobles smiled and nodded at me, the youth looking at me with undisguised lust. Then and there, I decided I was going to stay as far from him as possible.

“Lord Seer,” the lord said then looked at me, obviously unsure how to address me. “Lady Damslae,” he said quickly, and neither Aiven nor I protested. After all, I could have been queen. “Where are you journeying?”

“To Bast, my good lord,” Aiven replied. “I see you are also traveling in that direction as of this day.”

“Indeed,” Lord Koilun said. “We travel to our country’s capital; surely you will travel with us so far?”

“With delight,” was Aiven’s response. “Perhaps you have a wagon you could spare for my lady and I?” He did not even look at me, and I kept a bland face. Inside, however, I was fuming. How dare he call me his lady? He had completely ignored me in the first two weeks I’d known him, and then all we’d done was argue!

“But of course,” Lord Koilun said, signaling to a servant. We followed the boy, who led us to a wagon. Wagons as guest rooms – there was a new concept for me. The wagon was one room, obviously meant for a couple. I opened my mouth to speak – damn that servant, anyway – but before I could Aiven had taken my bag and put it on the bed with his own, and he had exited the wagon.

Deep breath, I told myself. Take a deep breath and follow. I caught up with him striding to meet a youth slightly older then me, holding the reins of two horses. I blanched.

“Lord Seer,” I said in a bland, pleasant voice, smile plastered on my face, “I do not know how to ride.” I kept my voice low, so do one could make out my words.

“Oh well,” Aiven responded in the same bland voice, a smile the mirror image of my own on his face. “As long as you don’t fall off and embarrass me, I can deal.’

“And if I can’t?” We took the reins.

Aiven’s eyes darted both ways, noting the approach of the nobles. He leaned forward, brushing his hand tenderly over my hair. “That’s to damn bad,” he murmured through his smiling mouth.

The nobles reached us atop their horses, and Aiven smoothly mounted his, tossing one leg over the horses back. Another servant came to help me mount. As he knelt so I could put my foot in his hands, I shivered. I’d rather never touch a man again. I looked up, and my gaze was predictably caught by Aiven’s. Straightening my back and lifting my chin, I mounted – not at all easy to straddle a horse wearing a skirt, and the saddle wasn’t sidesaddle. I envied the noble lady and her divided skirt.

Our horses rode at the front of the line. I was no stranger to horses, for which I was glad – but it might have been a little fun to try to embarrass Aiven. Seer indeed! I was still seething over the fact that he had not told me.

The ride was boring – the nobles and Aiven chatted about random things and random places that I really couldn’t care less about. I also discovered that riding for almost a full day is not a pleasant experience. My thoughts at the end of the day’s ride were something along these lines: When are we going to stop for the night? Ouch! Do we really sleep in wagons? Damn bump-in-the-rode. Ouch! Oh, god there’s another. What’s for dinner? I’m really hungry. Ow! I hope *Aiven’s* in pain. I really want pasta right now. I mean, I really, *really* want pasta right now. Stupid – ow! – horse. It’s like it wants to hurt me. I wonder if we’ll be traveling with these nobles much longer. I hate the way the young lord keeps looking at me. God, why do these stupid skirts have to keep hitching up? They are definitely not meant to be ridden in. *Ouch!*

My thought kept skipping randomly, and I was quite bored and exhausted – not to mention sore – by the time town lights came into view. I sat straighter then, concentrating on the bobbing lanterns and steady street lights. As we got closer, I pondered on the fact that even though we’d probably be staying in town, we still had our own wagons. I gave up the thought as we entered the town.

“You!” Lord Koilun said, nodding towards a young couple who stood hand in hand. They looked up startled, then at each other as if to assure themselves the lord was talking to them. He nodded regally at them, and said, “What is the name of the best inn this town hosts? And where is it, pray tell?” I resisted rolling my eyes. I hate “pray tell’s” and whatnot.

The young man looked to startled to say anything; it was the girl that spoke. “That would be “The Captain’s Light, your lordships. Your ladyships.” This time I resisted the urge to laugh. First, I was no ladyship. Nor was the name “Captain’s Light,” appropriate – there was no ocean for many miles.

The girl gave directions, and I let my horse keep pace with the others. We were in a well off town, if a little sleepy; not many were wandering the streets at this hour, but many lanterns burned cheerily away. I gave my attention to staying atop my horse. As we reached the stables, I slid off my horse, barely even noticing that a stranger helped me down. In fact, I even smiled sleepily at him as I turned to follow the nobles. As I turned, I found Aiven’s angry eyes burning into me. For what? I wondered. Because, for once, I had not been terrified when a man touched me? I scowled at him, and we continued onward.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair – even if there was no pasta, to my deep regret. It was chicken and fresh salad, along with a hearty soup and crusty rolls with a soft interior. Much better then the portions Aiven and I had been eating for the past two weeks.

Lord Koilun had reserved three rooms for the five of us. It was not till after dinner that I realized how this arrangement was supposed to work out, as we sat around our table, socializing. (Which, in this particular case, meant people sitting around practicing the art of talking about nothing with smiles on their faces.)

At first I had – foolishly, I’ll admit – thought that the lord and lady would share one room, the two youths would take the second room, and I would sleep in the last one. Hah.

“My lady wife and I will now leave you young ones to your own devices. Till the morrow, my lord seer.” How polite of them to say goodnight to their son and myself, I thought sarcastically as the two adults left.

A half-hour later Kieran rose also, bowing to Aiven and me. The two of us also stood – simultaneously, to my disgust. Aiven and Kieran also bowed – Lord Kieran a little lower then Aiven I noted. My eyes narrowed. So Aiven was ranked higher. To bad I didn’t know how high Lord Kieran was ranked.

“Till the morrow, Lord Seer, Lady Damslae.” Aiven – always the gentleman, of course – not – echoed the lord’s words. I curtsied uncertainly, unused to court etiquette. Kieran took my hand and helped me rise. Not that I needed help. I gave him a blasé smile as he raised my hand to his lips. I could feel Aiven’s gaze on us, and I kept myself from pulling away. I had thought I might be getting better, but it was worse with Lord Kieran – he seemed too predatory to me.

“Till the morrow,” I told him flirtatiously determined to get over what was – as I kept telling myself – a ridiculous fear. I even fluttered my eyelashes a little, and a wide smile was given to me. As he lowered my hand I let it rest against his for an extra second. He smiled smugly at Aiven and turned to leave. Then I realized that as I had been given the same wagon as Aiven, we were to share the same room. I turned to look at him, eyes wide, too wide him glaring at me with the considerable force of him brown gaze.

“What?” I asked defensively, as I followed him out of the dining room, up the stairs, and down a hall to a room. Our room.

“What the hell were you thinking, Damslae?” he demanded of me, closing the door with a bang.

“You should know,” I said peevishly. “*You’re* the seer. What were *you* thinking? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t important,” he said arrogantly.

“It wasn’t, was it?” I said angrily. “It certainly seems important. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” I shouted.

“You think *I* left out important things?”

“Well, *I* never left out things as important as being a seer. A seer!”

“You left out,” and his voice was soft and dead, “that you could have been Queen of Yvonhe.”

I turned white. “Damn you!” I swore at him, “How do you know that? I thought seers only knew the future!” Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how! You should have told me. It’s not the sort of thing you should leave out!” His voice was as loud as mine.

“It’s none of your business!” I screeched.

“It’s *all* my business, and you’ll do well to remember that!”

“I hate you!” I yelled, swiping at my eyes. “I hate you I hate you I hate you!”

I spun around and marched towards the door, shoulders quivering. As I reached out to yank the door open, it opened by itself, and a maid peeked in. I saw her note my tears and clenched fists, then go behind me to Aiven’s stormy face. She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh good,” she said to someone behind her, “It’s a lovers quarrel, nothing more.”

I felt myself stiffen in shock, and the door opened. Two burly men stood there, looking like they were ready to throw us out. But they relaxed at the maid’s words. “Good,” one of them said. Then he addressed the two of us, with a deep bow. “My lord, my lady, please excuse us for the inconvenience. We only interrupted as we thought there might have been a problem.” With another bow from the men, and a curtsey from the maid, the three of them were gone.

They weren’t going to yell at us? They weren’t going to scold us, or reprimand us, or even give a gentle suggestion to be quiet? How important *was* Aiven?

And it was not a lover’s quarrel!

I turned and glared at Aiven, tears still in by eyes, some tracking pathways down my cheeks.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” I said.

We continued to stare at each other, and I half expected something to explode. It was him that looked away first, turning his attention to the bed.

Notice that was singular form; bed, not beds, as it should be.

I was tempted to say “well,” again, but did not. Instead, I defiantly walked over to the bed. I sat down and bounced a few times as if testing it. Then I lay down, straight down the middle. After a second, I raised my head. “Where are you going to sleep?” I asked, as if the question had just occurred to me. We both knew it hadn’t.

I expected him to argue; maybe I even wanted it. Instead, he just locked his gaze on my mine and walked over to a loveseat four feet from the bed – didn’t trip over anything, either. He lay down, fully clothed, and turned his body away from mine, towards the back of the loveseat. I didn’t move either, except to pull the covers over me. Right before I drifted off to sleep, I muttered, “It wasn’t a lover’s quarrel.”

He seemed to sigh, and whisper, “No,” in a rather wistful tone. “And it never can be.”

But then again, maybe he didn’t say that. One never can trust what they hear on the verge of sleep.

Chapter Seven :: Reaching the Capital

I rose late, to find the couch empty already. After brushing the sleep from my eyes, my gaze was caught by a velvet dress. I stumbled from the bed over to the couch it was draped over, and picked it up, running my hands over it. It was a dark crimson that complimented my hair. The waist was high, gathered with a gold cord that matched the gold embroidery on the hem and square neck. Underneath the dress was a pair of gold slippers.

“Like I’ll be able to ride in those,” I said, frowning to myself. I smoothed my hand over the smooth fabric, then lifted my head. “Aiven?” I called out. There was no response.

With a sigh, I moved to the bathing chamber. I quickly bathed and dressed in the clothes obviously left for me. As I piled my wet red hair on the top of my head, I thought over last night. What else did he know, besides my chance to be queen? Could he pluck thoughts from my head? Was that even possible for seers? I shook my head to clear it, but that did not work. What did he know? Did he know my name?

“Damslae?” a voice said, and I jumped from my perch on the bed, spinning around. Aiven, dressed as a courtier – which he might well be – but then what was he on a farm? Was Kiyra a noble? Or was Aiven only noble because of his powers? What were his powers? What did he know about me?

It all circled back to that, I thought, sighing and gaining a puzzled look from Aiven. “Damslae, you’re awake,” he told me, as if I didn’t know. “Come down – breakfast is to be served.” He turned, making as if to leave.

“Wait,” I said, and he turned back to me. “Last night -” I hesitated. How to start? “You could tell things from my mind. What had happened in the past? How – how does that work? Can you read my mind? Know everything about me?”

“I don’t!” he said, exasperated. “I’m only a seer -”

“Only,” I scoffed.

“Damslae! I didn’t read your mind. That’s impossible for me - ”

“Sure,” I said sarcastically. “Then how’d you get that bit of information?”

He rolled his eyes, then stepped across the threshold and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the room so quickly that I barely saved myself from falling flat on my face. “It was from before you came,” he said with exaggerated patience, “I knew that a – girl – one who was – that had had the choice to be queen of Yvonhe would come.”

“How?” I said, interested in spite of myself as we descended the stairs, and Aiven turned his tight hold into a gentleman holding his arm out. I rested my hand gently on his. “How did you know this? And why did you stumble when explaining what you knew? You left something out – what you mentioned at the farmhouse, about the Eternal Lah’nayin.”

“I did,” Aiven said, and said no more as we entered the dining room set aside for our party. The nobles were already there, and the two men rose. Aiven held out my chair at the round table, and I sat between him and Lady Jainalii. She smiled at me – she gave off a friendly air, and was still very pretty for a middle-aged woman.

“Good morning, Lady Damslae,” she greeted me. “Good morning, Lord Seer,” and she bobbed her head. Aiven bowed to her, oh so gentlemanly, and kissed her hand and greeted her. Then he and the two men bowed and greeted each other, and the lords greeted me. I was very tempted to just stand and shout hello to everyone and just get on with breakfast.

Hah. Like I could get away with that.

Breakfast was served by a pretty maid a little younger then me, who batted her eyes furiously at Aiven and Lord Kieran throughout the meal. I don’t thing they even noticed. By the end of our four course breakfast – and this was just a random inn! – the girl looked ready to throw herself on the table to be noticed.

“The maid seemed to have something in her eyes,” Lady Jainalii said, sounding quite amused. I laughed.

The three men looked at us in bewilderment, obviously not caring. “Oh?” Aiven said, but he plainly didn’t really understand.

“I must say the lass did,” I added, looking at the lady’s sparkling eyes.

“Well, I – I hope she got it out,” Lord Koilun said, clearly confused at why we were talking about a serving wench. He switched the topic briskly. “My Lord Seer, perhaps you would honor me by conversing about your destination?”

“Indeed, my lord,” Aiven readily agreed. He stood, as did Lord Koilun. Koilun nodded to his son who bowed in return, and kissed the hands of his lady wife and me; then Aiven and Kieran bowed to each other (though Kieran bowed deeper) and the seer kissed my hand and Lady Jainalii’s.

My poor hand. If I had to hold it out once more, it would surely fall off.

The two men exited, Lord Kieran was fuming that he had been excluded from the meeting, treated more like a child then a man. He glared at me as if this was all my fault, and his mother glared at him. Ignoring her vexed son, she turned to me and began a conversation about the latest fashions.

Now, I will not pretend I have fun chatting with middle aged noblewomen. I will not pretend I know the slightest thing about fashion in a foreign country. I will not pretend I know the slightest thing about noble’s fashion. I didn’t have TIME for fashion – my schedule consisted of thieving, fighting, eating, sleeping, and making sure I didn’t die while doing any of the afore mentioned. No time for a frivolous thing like fashion in there.

But as Lady Jainalii was willing to uphold the entire conversation by herself, I could handle it. Ill I had to do was nod and smile, and make the occasional bland comment.

So I was having a splendid time – well apart from the fact that who really needs to know the difference between crepeback satin, antique satin, duchesse satin, and slipper satin? Seriously. It’s SATIN, for God’s sake.

Other then that, I was having an absolutely splendid time. After the satin, I got to hear about pashmina. What in the seven hells was pashmina? And why did I need to know about it? “My cousin – Lady Amleane – recently received a dress made out of it. It comes from the soft undercoat of mountain coats, and is soft as a cloud. Absolutely delightful! Of course, it is horribly expensive . . .”

I was about ready to nod off as the lady started to talk about velvet. Cut velvet, chrushed velvet, panné velvet. Spare me, please, I prayed. I had never so much as touched velvet (except when my hand brushed a nobles clothes as I pickpocketed them) before today. I had not the slightest idea what she was going on about. I had never imagined the lady could be so much of a talker. She had certainly seemed much quieter beforehand.

Before Lady Jainalii could give me an in depth description of how velvet was a warp-pile fabric, which meant something about one set of filling yarns and two sets of warp yarns, we were interrupted by a man wearing the inn’s uniform. He bowed deeply to the three of us and I was saved from learning about the two sets of warp yarns.

“My lady, your husband wishes to speak with you alone.”

I looked at her sharply, giving her more attention now then I had in the past hour of fabric speech.

She hesitated. “Alone?” She looked at us. It would obviously be immoral for a young lady and a young lord to be alone unchaperoned.

This is, of course, forgetting that I AM supposed to be sleeping with another lord. It was still improper. One also had to forget that it happens all the time anyway.

“If I am to be speaking alone with my husband, will the young lord be coming back here?” Interesting. She addressed Aiven as “the young lord,” when before he had always been called, “Lord Seer.” Were they keeping it a secret from the commoners? Why? I shook my head.

“My apologies, my lady, but I have not been informed on that subject.”

With a sight and a glance at the two of us teens, Lady Jainalii rose, muttering something under her breath. The door swung shut, loud in the silence, as the door closed behind her and the serving man.

“Lady Damslae,” Lord Kieran smiled charmingly at me. “I’ve been with you all morning, and we’ve exchanged nary a word.” While that wasn’t quite true, it was close enough. “I trust you slept well last night?” The question was innocent enough; the implication in his face wasn’t.

“I slept the whole night though,” I said loftily.

“You only slept?” He said, one brow raised, a smirk twisting his handsome features.

I stared at him, amazed at his rudeness. I could not keep myself from laughing; after all, if he was trying to be rude he’d have to try harder then that. He did not know that I had grown up in the dark alleys of Cyri.

“No, my lord,” I said with a very amused note in my voice, which I made no attempt to hide. “The Lord Seer and I did not have sex last night. After all, we HAVE been riding all day, and I for one was exhausted.” I cocked my head. “Were you not, my lord?”

He was shocked. I doubted he had ever heard a lady say “sex” once in his life, and wasn’t sure how to handle it. I personally didn’t care how he handled it; I was find as long as he kept far away for me – or at least, out of striking range, for if he came closer, he’d end up with several broken bones. I wasn’t THAT comfortable with men yet.

“My lady!” he finally exclaimed, swallowing hard.

I smiled insincerely at him. “If you wish to provoke me you will have to try harder then that, m’lord. THIS lady’s stomach is stronger think one might think. Good day.” With that I whirled (alright, I admit it. I was rather pleased with the way my velvet dress –cut velvet. I think . . . Or was it crushed? – swept out behind me with a soft whooshing noise as I left the room.) I did not even deign to give the noble a curtsy, which made me feel like royalty.

That is, until I turned the corner in the hallway and bashed my high head into Aiven’s, and fell down as graceful as a beaver. And beavers aren’t graceful.

“Milady!” Aiven cried out swiftly bending down and helping me up while he apologized, as a courtier should. Of course, then he realized it was ME . . .

“Oh – it’s you.” His apology was as short as that, and then he began to berate me on how stupid it was for me to turn a corner without looking, to rush headlong like that. I sighed. As least Kieran hadn’t seen.

Soon enough we had packed and left the inn, off to journey along the road, crowded with people, smells, and noise.

* * *

Dear Diary,

Four long weeks on this road and we’ve almost reached the capital. Thank God. I have gotten considerably better at riding that cursed horse (whose name happens to be Dewdrop, of all things) though it still leaves me sore. And what is with sidesaddle? Why do men get all the comfort?

Aiven and I have shared a bed every night, sticking to this silly façade that we are lovers. I always lay stake to the bed, sometimes forcing Aiven to sleep on the floor. Oh well. I can’t really understand the nobles treatment of me – they treat me as if I am a fine lady and as if it doesn’t matter that I’m sleeping with someone before we’re married – Lady, they couldn’t possibly think we WERE married, could they? No – they would have made more of a fuss about meeting the oh-so-greet Lord Seer’s wife for the first time. Anyway, they act like it’s normal that we share a room, and I KNOW nobles don’t do that.

Maybe it’s different because he’s a seer. Oh, I don’t know. I’m just a thief. All I know is how to snitch things. Like rings.

It was rather amusing when Aiven found out. I’d been examining a small wooden box – “courtesy” from one of the inns – that I had stored jewelry in.

“What’s in there?” Aiven had asked me, and I had airily replied that it was nothing. He obviously didn’t believe me (I wonder why?) and he took the box and opened it. I was somewhat delighted to hear a shocked gasp.

“Damslae! This is Lord Kieran’s ring! As it this ruby one – and this emerald! And where did you get the other three – and the earrings!”

“Places,” I replied in my loftiest voice. “People.”

“Damslae,” his voice was low, filled with anger, exasperation, and to my surprise, disappointment.

“Well, what did you expect?” I asked, feeling defensive as I settled down on the bed I had taken for my own. “I’m a thief, Aiven, I’ve always been a thief, I’ll always be - ”

“No,” Aiven interrupted, “You won’t.” He glared daggers at me. “As of now on, you are a LADY – prim, proper, pretty, and polite.”

“Pessimistic, peevish, pathetic, and painful?” I added innocently, and more daggers came flying my way. “I won’t change, Aiven, not for you, not for anyone.”

“Oh yes you will,” he said, and he sounded, at that precise moment, like the seer he was. I only stared at him a moment longer then took the box from his hand and stashed it away in my belongings.

Two weeks have pasted since then, and I have not become any more refined. Well, on the inside. On the outside, I can act the perfect lady – complete with descriptions of just about every know fabric.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re actually writing in a diary, like one of those silly ladies at court.” Aiven’s voice was filled with disgust, and I did not bother to explain, again, that as I had nothing else to do, I may as well record everything I do so the future generations will know the difference between cut, crushed, and panné velvet. Hah.

Instead, I pressed for information. “So you’ve been to court before.”

His glance was filled with scorn. “Of course I have. What did you think, I spent all my days as a farm boy?”

“How should I know? It’s not like you’ll tell me one damn thing about you’re life.”

“It’s not like you need to know,” he said disdainfully. Interesting. I’d managed to get disgust, scorn, and disdain, all in one evening.

“And we will get to this court I know and need to know nothing about tomorrow afternoon?” He nodded. “And who will I be introduced as? For that matter, who are YOU? I don’t even know the rank a seer commands.”

“You’ll learn tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’ll get to learn at court through trial and error? You’ll be embarrassed, not I, Aiven. I’ll never have to see these people again; you will.

“It doesn’t matter,” he groaned from where he lay on the floor. At least chivalry was not dead. Not that I’d given him much of a choice about where he slept, but he could have forced the issue. Involuntarily, I shivered.

“Fine. See if I care,” I said boldly.

“I’m sure I will,” he said, pulling the blanket closer though the night was hot. “Now will you PLEASE just shut up and go to sleep?”

I listened to him, for once, and slept.

Chapter Eight :: The Palace

The following afternoon saw the five of us in good spirits. I do not know about the rest of our party, as the lady I was playing - whoever that was - kept aloof from the servants. A new feeling, as in my regular life, this type of servant looked down at me with scorn.

I nudged Dewdrop to the right a little, so I rode alongside Aiven. "Aiven," I whispered to him, and we let our horses fall back from the nobles so they did not overhear us. "How long shall we stay at court?"

"A week," he responded immediately. "Then we shall go to Bast."

"We?" I questioned, raising my brows. "Since when is it we?"

"Since it was foretold," he said, quietly and solemnly. When I looked sharply at him, I saw his hazel eyes were glazed over, staring into the netherworld. Or at least, not this place. I swallowed hard, shivering, and decided not to press him. It was mildly disturbing when he went all Seer- ish on me, speaking of the future in that voice that was so certain, so - well - unearthly.

I was silent as we rode the next few miles, thinking on our upcoming destination. The second capital I had ever been in. Hopefully I would leave it in a happier manner then being exiled. "Aiven?" I said to him, and he turned to me. "What is the royal family like?"

"Why do you think I would know?" he asked, eyes wide. "After all, I'm just a youth."

I glared at him. "You are so incredibly not helpful!" I said angrily, but softly. Had I been walking I would have stomped my foot. "What is your rank? These nobles bow to you - what of the rest? I don't even know this family's rank. Dammit, Aiven, I don't know anything!"

"I'm inclined to think so," he said smoothly, a grin on his face. I scowled at him.

"About. Court," I got out from ground teeth. "I know lot's of stuff. Loads."

"Hmmm," he said agreeably, which annoyed me even more.

"I DO! Just because you're so special and have some special rank that can hardly be expected to be known to me since I'm just a thief which means I know absolutely nothing about court life, well, that isn't any reason to - uh -"

"Yes?&quoot;;; Aiven drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Anything you'd like to add to that rant?" I flushed, knowing I had been ranting. Not only had I made no sense whatsoever, but I hadn't had a point either. "And if you do have something to add, please don't, or at least wait until a time when you can be more discreet."

"Fine," I muttered, glaring. I urged my horse up a bit, and soon became involved in a discussion on the types of show fabric with Lady Jainalii. I liked her more then I would have expected. After awhile our conversation drifted to an end, and I let my mind drift off, too.

My thoughts had gone everywhere but the road in front of me, as Dewdrop walked on. Then suddenly our train stopped. I clutched the mare's reins as I raised my head, re-entering the physical world. As I did this, my senses were assaulted.

Sprawled in front of me was Lonyar, capital of Sontái. No wall surrounded it like Cyri was surrounded. Houses and shops, people and animals and carts were everywhere, moving in every direction. Merchants selling their wares, shouting above the crowd, while children's screams of laughter could also be heard. The clatter of hooves on pavement accompanied the many horses, donkeys, and other animals. Music could be heard floating from the street corners, musicians hoping for a coin or two. The dull roar of the crowd was beneath it all, as it had always been and would always be.

And then there were the smells. Those of flowers and rich perfumes were mixed right in with unwashed bodies and piss. The scent of fresh bread wafted by, followed by another foul odor. The grime was clear on the unwashed bodies, excluding the nobles and rich merchants.

A servant ahead of us shouted out for the road to clear, as the peasants grumbled, staggering off the rode and giving us evil looks as we rode by.

I was in my element.

Only it was usually me standing down there, shooting resentful looks as the nobles rode past. I was not adverse to slipping a hand in there pocket when they slowed, so I was glad I was atop a horse rather then in one of the wagons or walking along side it. I felt a bit of nostalgia as I picked out some of the more obvious thieves in the crowd, cutting purse strings left and right. I had done that -

** - "Laeli, catch!" Johen shouted, tossing the pouch to me. I reached out a hand to grab it, the weight surprising me, and the leather bag bulging with coins. Johen laughed as he swung away from the foreign lady in her fine carriage. He caught up with me, dressed in silks like a bed boy, and we dashed away, the howls and shaking fist of the foreigner following us. He grabbed me and kissed me, twirling me in the air as we laughed hysterically. "Now," he said, plucking at his yellow fluffy sleeves, "I ought to get out of these." Fresh gales of laughter followed -**

"'Tis a awe inspiring sight, isn't it?"

Years of practicing being silent kept me from shrieking out as I spun my head around, mouth forming the word "Johen,". . .

Lord Kieran smiled at me from his seat on his traveling gelding; he had assured me that he usually rode a stallion, but not on long trips. Not that that made any sense to me - what use was a horse if you did not ride it? Anyway, my startled eyes met his calm blue hazel ones before they swung away to take in the scene in front of me.

The palace rose up in front of me, a magnificent structure quite unlike the one in it's bordering country. It was large and airy, with stone columns and marble towers. The palace of Sontái had nothing of the fortress feel Yvonhe's castle did.

"It is gorgeous," I said with a smile, meaning it.

"You will only be staying for a week."

"And you will be staying the rest of the autumn season."

He inclined his head. "Lady Chantaviene always holds a ball for the eligible young nobles on the eve of her son's death every year, which is coming up this week. It is a spectacular event."

"Seems rather morbid."

"I suppose. But it is for the memory of her son, and his betrothed. It was very tragic - he died in battle, and the minute she learned of his death she took a dagger to herself."

"That makes it no less morbid."

He shrugged, then turned to catch me eye, riding so close our knees brushed. "M'lady . . . I would be honored if you would come to the ball with me as your escort."

I looked at him, taken aback. 'But what about Aiven?"

"What about him?" Kieran scowled. "The two of you are not to be wed, are you? You barely get along together!"

"I - I will - must talk with the Seer about this - but . . . well, I would be happy to go with you if I could. Can." I smiled my most bedazzling smile, to block the way I'd stumbled all over my words. I was sure I had not answered the way one should when being invited to a ball with a noble, seeing as it had never happened to me. I did not want to go to this ball. I had never learned ballroom dancing - or any other kind of dancing, for that matter. What use was it to a thief? Though I could surely charm my way through half of it with my beauty and gracefulness, I did not relish the chance that I might stumble around like a country bumpkin - which I most assuredly was not.

I did not particularly want to go with Kieran either. And there was no telling how Aiven might act if I did. Of course, it might be fun to go with Kieran just to spite Aiven. I was like that.

"My thanks, Lady Damslae," Kieran said, and urged his horse forward.

"What were you and Kieran talking about?"

I spun around - well, as much as one can on a horse. I was suddenly angry with Aiven for surprising me like that. "What business is it of yours? You're not my keeper!"

"For now I am."

"Gods, - "

"Lord Seer!"

We both spun, to be greeted by half a dozen knights. Their armor glinted brightly in the noonday sun. The foremost knight rode forward. "Lord Koilun. Lady Jainalii." He inclined his head.

"Sir Renain," Lord Koilun greeted him, also nodding slightly.

"As soon as this was done, the knights switched their attention to Aiven - and to me. "My Lord Seer! This is an unexpected delight." He waved a hand of dismissal, and the other knights quickly dispersed, though most lingered in the vicinity, obviously eager to listen.

Aiven inclined his head slightly. "Sir Renain. Indeed, I had not expected to come. How fares your family?" That was a ridiculous question for a seer, I thought. But then, who ever cared about my opinions?

"They are well Lord Seer. I thank you for your concern."

"And your sister? She was wed this last winter. Give her and her new husband my regards."

"Indeed I shall." Then, on an entirely different subject, "Have I the honor to be the first to welcome you - and your lady - back to court?"

"Oh, but it is my honor to be greeted by you. Ah, I have been sadly lacking in manners; this is the lady Damslae. I am her escort to her uncle in Bast; her father has entrusted her to my care."

"Obviously a man of good bearing - after all, who better to entrust their daughter to then yourself?"

"Certainly, who better?"

They had a good laugh at this - I'm sure it was absolutely hysterical. Really. I personally, had no idea why they were laughing like one of them had said the cleverest thing in the world. Somehow I didn't thing they were joking about how Aiven wasn't even close to being the best escort - but I wasn't sure the knight had the wit for that.

Incase it wasn't clear, I'm not exactly fond of nobles.

After men had their laugh, Aiven managed to rid us of our horses ("No!" I screamed, 'I don't want to leave Dewdrop!" causing Aiven to give me a harsh look, an apologetic look to the grooms, and dragging me off, this time with me laughing at the surrounding people's faces. But truly, I was a little sad to leave Dewdrop. Just, not that sad.) and sweep the two of us into he castle without anyone else coming near us.

My first view of the inside of the castle was not spectacular. We were in the servants' hallways, their staircases and passages. Every time we pasted them they wold give Aiven a nod and smile, like they were used to seeing him. Needless to say, this only served to confuse me even more.

Aiven pushed aside a tapestry and stepped into the finest room that I'd ever seen, much finer then what I'd seen of the fortress castle of Yvonhe. Granted, I hadn't seen very much of it, but still.

We were in a sitting room, richly furnished. A gold gilded table sat in the middle of the room, with intricate carvings on it. Suspended above it and in the four corners of the room were small chandeliers, about two feet in diameter. The carpet beneath our feet was deep and of all shades of blue, in an oriental design. The two windows reached from floor to ceiling, and blue curtains framed them. Chairs were scattered about the room - dark green velvet, outlined by tall deep brown wood, whose legs and backs were carved in as much detail as the table.

"A well decorated room," I said, sweeping my eyes from the first of two life-size paintings to he other. One was a hunting scene, while the other was a portrait of Kiyra - younger by several years.

"I had that commissioned when I realized I was going to be spending much of my time here," Aiven said, noticing where my eyes lay. "She's they only one that would sit down long enough for the painter."

'This is your room," I breathed, still trying to take it all in. Certainly the crown could not afford for all of his nobles to have rooms like this.

"No, it's my cousin's," Aiven said sarcastically, breaking the mood. I glared at him, tempted to ignore him as he beckoned for him to follow me to another room. I resisted, and entered an elegant, completely impersonal bedroom.

"This will be you room for the week," Aiven informed me, like I couldn't guess.

"No, really?" I drawled."

"Yes, really," he snapped, eyes flashing. I stepped back, taken aback by his mood. "You'll fine clothes in the wardrobe - chose something nice. We'll be presented to the king at supper." He left.

Presented to the king. I hadn't had a whole lot of good luck with kings, and Aiven probably thought I was going to embarrass him. Well, I wouldn't. I'd look absolutely beautiful, act like an angel, and then go to the ball with Kieran. So there.

It wasn't until I was looking through the dresses that I took time to wonder how there came to be closet full of dress in my size that matched my coloring. My face turned red as I realized Aiven must have ordered them; I'd rather men stay away from what I wore. But they were already here, and my other clothes weren't yet; besides, these were much nicer then any of them.

An hour later I was dressed in a gold silk gown, the lower half slightly puffed, with the hem embroidered with tiny pearls. The bodice was embroidered with pearls as well; a diamond design, with pears at all the points. A square neck, as was the style, was a little below my color bone. The sleeves were round, then narrow to my wrist. I let my flamboyant red hair unbound, except for the top layer that I caught in a bun, held in by a gold threaded net. I put on a pair of gold shoes, that would only be seen when I was climbing stairs. All I needed now, I thought as I considered myself in the mirror, would be some red jewelry. I didn't really need any cosmetics; they would take away from my gold eyes, which were definitely by best feature - that and my hair. I looked like a porcelain doll, I decided. I wasn't sure I liked being trapped in all this silk and lace and jewels, even more then on the trip here.

"Aiven!" I yelled out, sticking my head through the door, trying to make myself heard through the parlor and past the closed door to Aiven's room.

"What?" he hollered back.

"Go to Lady Jainalii and ask her for some red jewelry."

"Ask her yourself."

"I can't! I don't know where our suite is, let alone where their rooms are."

"Ask somebody!"

"Aiven, I'm not going to wander around the palace corridors asking random people where Lady Jainalii's rooms are!" "And I'm not going to go around the palace corridors half naked!"

Oh. That did present a problem.

"Well . . . then do it later."

"Fine!"

"Fine!" I shouted back. I little surprised he had given in so easily.

Sometime later I heard a thunk against my door. After waiting a moment, I got up, opening my door in time to see Aiven's close. In front of me was a bag.

I was, I decided, gorgeous. I had put in two ruby drops, and a gold chain with a ruby suspended from it hung around my neck. Red garnet bracelets were around both my hands - that was all.

"You, " I told myself, "Are a vision. A slightly crazy vision, considering the fact that I'm talking to myself, but a vision none the less."

Rooms, no matter how beautiful, can become extremely boring when you have nothing to do, especially when you're waiting to be introduced to a king. I sat in a chair for several hours, writing about everything that had happened. But soon my hand grew tired, and then my pen ran out of ink, so then I was again left with nothing to do.

"I hope you're ready for dinner," Aiven said, his voice coming from directly across the door.

"What? Now?" I said in a panicky way, sitting relaxed in my chair. "I still half to find a dress - shoot, where did those earrings go?"

"I don't believe it," Aiven said in disbelief, swinging open my door. He stopped suddenly, staring at me. I returned the favor.

Gone was the country boy, or the obnoxious young man that had traveled with me for weeks. In front of me was a mystical lord, dressed as richly as a king. His white robes seemed to twist and blow, though the windows were closed. A silver pendant hung from his neck, a rune unknown to me, lost in time. He wore a circlet on his head, silver like the pendant but with a metallic gleam, sending off all colors of the rainbow. He looked distant, thoughtful, and as far out of reach as a star from the earth. He looked like a prince.

"So, do I pass?" I asked, a little shy of this stranger who stood in my companion's place.

He nodded. "You look nice," he choked out, and he seemed a bit more like Aiven just then.

"You don't look half bad yourself," I returned, which was an understatement.

We left the room, traveling the main hallways of the palace this time. I took his arm, still a little shy, wishing he would make some sarcastic remark, or an insult, or anything I could recognize as him.

"Where is everyone?" I whispered, a little intimidated by the passageways, empty except for us and the occasional servant or guard.

"At dinner," Aiven whispered back.

"Everyone?"

Aiven nodded.

I could tell we were close to the main hall when I began to hear a roar of noise. It was almost deafening by the time Aiven and I reached two tall, golden doors with had a dozen soldiers standing before them. The doors had the crest of Sontái upon them, along with many other designs, and were at least fifteen feet tall. They were closed, but still smells drifted through, and the sound of laughter, booming voices, and the clatter of silverware.

"Lord Seer," one of the soldiers said, a look of awe on their faces. They all bowed low. Apparently everyone knew Aiven. "Are you ready to be announced?"

"We are." Aiven answered, and one of the guards knocked a rapid pattern on the door.

A blare of trumpets startled me as they sounded right in front of us. In the silence that followed, a voice declared, "My lords and ladies! Your Highnesses, Your Majesties! May I present, Lady Damslae of Brientlon, and the lord Seer Aiven Torryien Caunlahsta of Sontái!" A very loud cheer followed, almost drowning out the second blast of trumpets. I swallowed, and made my clutch on Aiven's arm - Aiven Torryien Caunlahsta - relax.

The golden doors swung open.

Chapter Nine :: A Seer's Rank

The golden doors swung open.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. *This* was the largest room I'd ever seen, much larger then the King of Yvonhe's audience chamber, plus it was much more welcoming. Great windows adorned one of the longer walls in the room, and on the other wall tapestries hung twice my height. On the wall opposite us and on our wall shields hung, representing - well, I don't know. I was just the forreiigner.

There was a high dais at the very end of the rectangle hall, which supported one table with the king and the rest of the royal family. Pages bustled about the room, colorful in their blue and silver uniforms. They darted between the tall columns that stretched the two stories up to the ceiling, which was painted with angels.

Needless to say, it was a little overbearing.

Added to the sight was the noise. No one was shouting, but the murmuring tones of the entire court built up into a roar of voices and laughter. A blast of smells washed over us, much stronger then I had expected.

But as Aiven was announced the room fell silent. A page could be heard pouring wine into a noble's cup across the room; he quickly stopped. Every fork dropped; every head turned. There were hundreds of people, and I could fell every single eye focused on us. My hand rested on the Seer's arm, and as we slowly walked to the dais our footsteps echoed in the huge room. Suddenly there was a scraping of chairs, a rustling of fabrics. (I could even tell which ones, sadly enough.) The entire court of Sontái curtsied and bowed to us. I tried - and failed - not to give a little gasp as their Royal Majesties stood and nodded deeply to Aiven before resuming their seats at the high table. Two young men stood and bowed with them - probably the twin princes. Aiven gave a small half bow, and I curtsied low, burying my hands in the folds of my dress, hoping to hide their shaking. Every instinct told me that this was unsafe; too many people were watching. I would rather slip through crowds like this unnoticed; I would rather not be here at all.

"Lord Seer," the king said.

"Your Majesty. Your Majesty," Aiven greeted them.

"Lady Damslae of Brientlon. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."

I'm not sure if I gawked at him or not. Was this how the king usually greeted nobles? And did he always sound so sincere? I curtsied again. "Thank you, your Majesty. The pleasure is all mine."

"Please, the king said, waving a hand at the two seats immediately to his right. "Be seated."

I studied the royal couple as Aiven sat at the king's right hand and I sat at the Seer's right. The king of Sontái was not a very impressive looking man, when his features were looked at separately. He had a thick mop of graying brown hair, bushy gray eyebrows over baby blue eyes, which were obviously his best feature. They were not piercing as many ruler's eyes are described to be. Instead they were calm and welcoming, like an anchor in a storm. He was only about 5'5, and was somewhere in his forties, I would assume. He had a potbelly and abnormally large feet. Either that or he stuffed his shoes. He had smile lines along with furrows from worrying. Though his presence was not *commanding,* it was strong. When I looked the whole man over there was an aura of power, of solemn dignity and strength. He was not a man to underestimate.

His queen looked ten years younger then him, and *her* presence was commanding. Tall and thin there was a simple beauty about her. She wore most of her light brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, while the rest tumbled down in light curls to her shoulders. She smiled when she caught me looking at her, and I smiled back.

I surveyed the room, checking all possible escape routes out of habit. I noticed, as I looked at the nobles, that most were sneaking glances at Aiven and me. More then a few looked over at me appreciatively, and some of the young lords sat straighter. I hid a smile.

It wasn't that different at the high table. All occupants spent most of their time glancing up at my end, whispering things to their neighbors and pretending they were more interested with there food then the lord Seer and the lady he had brought. I heard a boy whisper to his companion how beautiful the flame haired girl was. "We've not a chance," his friend replied softly. "Why would such a lovely lady look at us - not only does she have princes sitting across from her, she's with the Seer!" Hiding a smile I turned to see the royal princes of Sontái.

The princes were siting to the left of the king and queen, directly across from Aiven and me. Aiven had told me next to nothing about them, other then that they existed. They looked about eighteen. They had their father's blue eyes and their mother's light brown hair. One dressed in the silver attire of a mage; the other wore the apparel of a knight-heir.

"Lady Damslae," the mage twin across me said as Aiven became engaged in conversation with his parents. The pages below began to serve the nobles; squires served the first course at our table. "It is a delight to be gifted with the view of you this dinner. You are the lord Seer's - companion?" He raised an eyebrow. His brother was also listening in.

I haven't had much luck with the one prince I had known, and perhaps he had prejudiced me against others of his rank. Though I must admit that it did not seem likely either of these twins would want to marry me.

"Actually," I said, taking a sip of the disgustingly sweet wine, "the lord Seer is my escort. To my uncle in Bast." It had been my uncle, hadn't it? Hmm. Maybe it had been my cousin . . . or even my father . . .

"I would be honored to give you a tour of the palace and city," the heir said.

What could I say? "I would be honored if you would, your highness."

The younger twin seemed somewhat annoyed at his brother's invitation. "How long will you be staying here?" he said, smiling charmingly.

"As long as you wish," I replied with a similar smile, long eyelashes fluttering.

The knight-heir leaned towards me. "Then stay here forever," he said, blue eyes dancing.

I sighed dramatically. "If only I could, your Highness. But I am afraid my uncle awaits me in Bast.

"Would be that I could be your escort," the mage-prince said, sipping his red wine.

"Surely I am not worthy of such an honor," I said, with a little laugh. Were the princes really this empty headed and flirtatious? I doubted it. An act, probably, and a good one.

"You are worthy of so much more," said the heir, catching my hand as I reached for my spoon.

I tried to pull it away discreetly and quickly, but knocked our joined hands into a small wooden sugar bowl instead. The bowl started spinning smoothly down the table, somehow managing to stay clear of all obstacles. It overturned a decorative bowl of marbles further down the table, and they spilled onto the floor. The three of us - myself and the twins - watched in horror as the squires entered to bring us the second course.

The first two squires entered brilliant in their blue in silver livery. They had no chance. They slipped, twisting and falling on the rolling marbles, unable to contain a yelp. Most talk at the high table paused as we regarded the falling squires - and the falling platters.

I had no time to watch as a pitcher of red wine flew from the air, directly towards me. I pushed to the side, knocking into the lady to my right. The wine pitcher broke against my plate, splattering Aiven, the younger prince, the unknown lady and myself.

We did not fare the worst. Some of the tables other occupants wee drenched; one had broccoli in her styled hair while her dinner partner wore a pie slices on his chest.

The princes and I exchanged looks. I tried to cover my amusement with dismay, but stopped when I saw the twins' eyes glint with merriment.

It was like a tableau for a moment. Everyone was still, from the squires on the floor with cheeks as red as wine to the nobles at the very end of the hall. A few muffled laughs could be heard, along with gasps of horror. Slowly every eye again focused on Aiven - though I doubted many had left him during the meal.

Aiven rose slowly from his seat, wearing a cold icy look - sort of like when he'd found me whispering instructed to his horse to throw him on the road, and promising an apple. Only worse.

"Your Majesties," he said icily. "I believe I shall retire to my rooms now." He did not need to indicate the red splotches on his pristine robe. The king and queen rose, the princes a second later. Uncertain, I remained seated until Aiven shot me a look that would have made a dead man rise. "Til the morn," he said, inclining his head. Without so much as waiting for them to answer, he swept out of the room, bringing me along with him. Again, everyone sank into a curtsy or bow. The doors swung open in front of us; we had turned a corner before I heard them close.

I dared not say anything. Aiven probably knew it was my fault, and I was still stunned on the fact that he had walked out on royalty in front of their court - and no one had tried to stop him. The implications of that were enormous.

"What are you?" I whispered as he pulled the door shut in his chambers. "What - who are you to be able to act so?" I stared at him, golden eyes wide and my hands clenched behind my back.

"Oh, don't acted so surprised," Aiven said irritably, collapsing in one dark green chair. His face was I little paler today, his brown eyes heavily lidded. "I haven't turned into some terrifying, majestic figure who eats little babies for breakfast."

"No, you always were one," I retorted. "Except I'm not so sure about the majestic part."

"Ha. Ha. Ha," he drawled, reaching for a bottle of wine on the table next to him. I snatched it away.

"Oh no you don't. If you drink this, you'll fall asleep, ad then I'll never learn anything."

He let his head fall back on the top of the chair, staring at the ceiling. "No now, Damslae. I just can't handle it right now."

"Can't handle it?!" I exploded. "What the hell do you mean, you can't handle it?" I hook a long shaky breath. "Look, you just walked out on several hundred people, INCLUDING the king and queen of Sontái. And they didn't stop you! Like it's within your rights to do whatever you want. As if your rank is higher then KING!"

"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?" Aiven asked.

"Hypothetical questions are never hypothetical," I responded in a dry, if shaky, voice.

"What if I said 'yes'? What if I told you that I *do* outrank the royalty of Sontái?"

I stared at him, then sunk down to the floor, crimson skirt crumpling beneath me. I drew my knees up to my chest, surrounding them with my arms. Never once did my eyes leave Aiven, still staring at the golden ceiling. "You outrank the *king*?" I breathed, awed. Aiven picked up his head, glaring at me.

"I SAID it was hypothetical."

I stared.

He let his head flop back again. "Yes. Happy? YES. I outrank just about any noble you are ever likely to meet. I take that back. I don't outrank Sair, Mage-King of Bast. Nor to I outrank Prince Tullon, the Mage- Prince you spoke with tonight. He is of equal rank with me."

I puzzled at this. "Even though he's royalty and you're not?"

"Yes, but I'm a *Seer.* THE Seer. And he's only a mage."

"What do you mean, you're THE Seer?"

"What do you think?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Well, are you the only Seer in the entire world?" I shivered. It was a little to daunting - MY Aiven, not this mysterious Seer, couldn't be the only of his kind.

"I wish."

"Aiven, you are so not helpful!"

He looked at me, smirking. "Oh, I haven't heard THAT before."

I jumped up. "I refuse to drool at your feet, waiting til you're good and ready to tell me things before I learn anything!"

"I should hope not. The carpet's very expensive."

I stomped my foot. "Aiven!"

He lifted his and let it drop with force to the ground. "Damslae!"

I glared at him, to angry to do anything else.

"Now," said the uncaring recipient of my anger, "Was there anything else?"

I open my mouth, only then realizing that I had completely forgotten what I was going to ask.

He smirked. "You've forgotten."

"Have not!" I cried, sounding like a petulant child. He ignored me, studying his nails with the utmost care. I dropped down into a chair opposite him. "Oh. Are you the only Seer in the world?" I inquired my voice back to normal.

"Hardly. There's one per country."

"'One per country'? Just like that?" I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. "Exactly."

I sighed, and we sat in silence for several minutes. I stared out the window, but the only thing I could see was the half moon, it's light fading before it could illuminate more then treetops. "Aiven," I said quietly, "Can we be serious for a moment?"

He shrugged again. "I'm always serious." I resisted my urge to throttle him. Back at Kiyra's the only noise was the cricket's song, hear, there were always people nearby, voices floating from one window to another. If I tried to strangle Aiven, someone would surely hear his screams.

"What will we do once we reach Bast? There was another city I wished to visit, but . . . well, there's nothing in it for me. And . . ." and I don't really want to be a thief again. Not without Johen and Tari and Dein.

"And what?"

I shook my head. "And nothing. There's just nothing in life for me. What will you do, in Bast?"

He was quiet for so long I though he would not answer. Just as I opened my mouth to say forget it, he spoke. "I will meet with Corln, their Seer, and Sair. The Mage-King. There is - " his mouth twisted, as if he was thinking of something distasteful, " - a disaster of sorts. An emergency for with I am needed."

"What of the Eternal daughter of Lah'nayin? Would she be needed?" My voice was so soft it could barely be heard.

Aiven looked startled. "You remember." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "That was a mistake. I do not like to prophesize in front of the people I speak of. But yes, you would be helpful . . . more then helpful.

"There will be a war," he said, in a voice so different I jumped in my seat. I looked at his eyes - glazed over. "A war controlled by dark mages with elements at their hands. Find the Saint, and ruin her path - be wary of her. Let not the Aevai'in come to be. Be warned and be ware. When the flames come with their demonic glint, foil the hand that plays the cards. The side helped by the Shanti'ilor will undoubtedly triumph. But this will pass from player to player.

"Forget not the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter for she is the key. Remember her fate."

He was Aiven again; his eyes were clear and his forehead creased. "Stupid," he muttered. "What *is* this cursed war we keep rambling about. "And the Shanti'ilor? THAT'S never been mention before. What in the nine hells is THAT?"

"You don't know what you speak about when you prophesize?" I asked, surprised and delighted that he seemed as dumbfounded as I did.

He looked at me, brown eyes widening as if he had forgotten me. I studied his eyes for a moment; they were usually brown I had realized, but when he was very angry or very annoyed they looked green. Now why was I thinking of that now?

"Don't you dare tell anyone," he scowled.

"What, is it a secret?" I asked, amused. He scowled even more, and I laughed. "It is! Though you act all deep and mysterious, you have no more idea what you're rambling on about then the rest of us!"

He drew himself up. "Yes we do," he snapped. "I can feel things, people, if I'm with them long enough to sense their aura. I can remember every vision sense the dawn of time. EVERY ONE. When some of the prophecies are small or about specific people, I can read then clearly." He raised his head, as if to say, "So there."

I was impressed. Every vision? "What about from living Seer's? Do you know their visions? Do they know yours? Did every single Seer just experience the vision you had? Or . . . was that in fact someone else's vision that you were just sharing. Or are they all COLLECTIVE prophecies?" I looked at him, excited. He, predictably, just glared at me as he rose from his seat.

"You know more then is allowed all ready. Do not ask more." Well, certainly not when he used THAT voice. But there was one thing . . .

"Aiven - am I the Eternal Lah'nayin's daughter? You've implied it - but am I?"

"Yes," he answer was curt.

I waited a moment. "Well? What does that mean? Who am I? Who is the Eternal Lah'nayin?"

"You are not to know," he said stiffly.

I shot him a dirty look. "Oh, I'm not to know, am I? Or is it really that none of you oh so great Seer's know nothing about me and are just trying to hide the fact?"

His eyes were far too penetrating then were comfortable. Not that penetrating eyes ever are comfortable. "I know far more about the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin then you have any wish to know."

"Oh no you don't," I protested. "If I'm her, I want to know everything."

"Trust me," he said softly, "You've no wish to know everything."

It was pointless. Aiven was impossible to understand when he was in Seer mode. I wonder how Kiyra dealt with it. Lady knows I couldn't. For some unknown reason I felt like I had to get to the end of my questions, though, so I managed a last one.

"So you will take me to Bast City? I will me able to help against this - coming evil? The Aevai'in? The Saint, and dark mages?" Aiven had to lean closer to me to hear my words, they were so quiet.

"Yes," he responded just as softly. "You need not fear being abandoned."

I looked up sharply into his eyes; green-hazel, but surely he was not angry now? And how had he known what I feared - for I had told no one, not ever.

"Damslae," he breathed, green eyes trapping my own golden ones. Then light as a butterfly wing his lips brushed my own, stirring a feeling I could not even begin to name.

He drew back, then before I could voice a word he had disappeared into his own chambers, and there was nothing left for me to do beside enter my own.

Chapter Ten :: Johen

~Tari shakes her head, laughing. "It took you that long to kiss him? I'm surprised at you, Laeli."

"I didn't mean to," I blurt out, my face stained red. I see my red hair falling over my face in an attempt to hide. My gold eyes stare at the ground, examining the cracks in the gray stone.

"Didn't you?" Johen asks, regarding me gravely. I look up, unsurprised that he is there though he was not a moment before. "What about me?"

"I love you!" I tell him, but he looks unconvinced. "Tell him I love him," I say to Tari.

She's not Tari anymore; Kiyra stands in her place. Her chocolate eyes, so like her brother's, are sad. "What about my brother Aiven?"

"And what about me?" says Tari's brother Dein from behind me, but his voice is different, and when I examine him more carefully I see he is the Mage-Prince I dined with.

I shake my head. "I don't know." I tell him.

"Do you love me?" he asks.

I consider him. "That depends," I say.

He leaned closer and covered my mouth with his, and before I close my eyes his cerulean blue ones stare into my own. "Every hero in the history of the world has had cerulean blue eyes," I whisper against his warm lips.

"I don't," Aiven says as he draws back from our kiss, chocolate eyes filled with fiery passion ~

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"Oh gods!" I shrieked, bolting upward and breathing hard. I would just have to relive that kiss wouldn't I? Doomed. I was doomed. How in the seven hells was I supposed to face Aiven today? And why was the Mage-prince of Sontái in my dream? Then Johen had been there . . . beloved, dead Johen.

If he was dead, which would be a blessing. Because if he hadn't died, that meant . . .

I shook my head, refusing to think of what he must have gone through, and all because of that stupid noble. But it was my fault, for being so overconfident.

My door opened, and I gave a startled yelp as I pulled my blanket of higher over my overly bright purple night dress.

"My lady?" asked a girl about my age, curtsying low, eyes on the ground. "Are you quite all right?" She wore unfamiliar livery, a flowing silver gown with a strange crest in the center her chest. The gown looked more like the clothing of nobility then that of a maid; if she had not worn the white headband around her forehead proudly bearing her master's crest . . .

Was it Aiven's?

I realized I was scrutinizing her from her very blond head to the tips of her slipper-clad feet. She must be employed to Aiven - her sweeping silver gown was the color and style - if much less dramatic - of a Seer's clothing.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. I just had a . . . nightmare." Where I happened to kiss a guy that annoys me every chance he gets and a prince who had magical powers.

"The Lord Seer Aiven Caunlahsta wishes your presence as he breaks fast."

"Um . . . can't you just tell him I'm not hungry?"

Her eyes darted up to the wall behind me in startlement, then down to the floor. "I . . . I have never refused the lord Seer anything."

"I'll bet," I muttered, glaring at her, suddenly resenting her.

"He was most insistent," she said hesitantly. "Wants you to appear quickly and in an appropriate style."

I rolled my eyes. "For what? For rolling out of bed?"

"He has visitors," she said in a meek, kicked-puppy dog voice. "Their Royal Highnesses Prince Rogien and Prince Tullon, and Lady Kiebess and the young Duchess Landraia.

"Oh fun," I said, but less harshly. The girl acted like she had been abused! Aiven hadn't done anything, had he? He wouldn't. That just wasn't him.

"Fine," I said, pulling myself from my soft warm bed to drag on a dress from the ample supply. Dark pink silk with a V-neck and far too many ruffles - as soon as I put it on I wanted to take it off. Only it had been the closest in reach and God of Thunder strike me if I say I'm not lazy. And then there was the blond maid, who was staring at me slack jawed as I pulled a brush purposely designed to wound my head through my red hair.

"You're beautiful!" she exclaimed.

I ran a critical eye over my image in the gilt edged mirror. "Pink dresses and red hair clash."

"Oh no," she protested. "The shade of the gown is exactly the shade of your hair! It's lovely."

Lovely was stretching it. After all, how could anyone be lovely when the light of the rising sun was still coming in? It is my firm belief that no one can look or feel awake until the sun has risen. Still, I didn't look half-bad. I let the maid pull back the top layer of my hair and clip in with a lacy white rose, then entered the main room with the maid a few steps behind me.

For some reason it had never entered my mind that they might be eating in that room. But there they were, a Seer, two princes, and two incredibly lovely ladies - who obviously knew it.

One was blond, with her golden hair twisted back from her face and pulled into a knot at the back, making it look at if she wore a tiara. She had wide blue eyes enchanced by face paint, and her long silky eyelashes were unnaturally black. Her full red lips curved in a self-centered smile, and stood in sharp contrast to her ivory skin. I had an urge hit her and see if she broke like the porcelain doll she resembled, but I exercised my wonderful self-restraint and did not.

The second had dark brown hair and dark gray eyes. She had the air of a queen - probably hoped to become so - and imperialy examined me as I did the same. Her dress was a dark blue, embroidered with mystical looking silver runes.

I glanced at the other lady's dress. Damn. Why'd she have to be wearing pink also?

It was light and gauzy, and looked like one puff of air would blow it right off her. Thank the Lady the windows were closed; otherwise I would be scarred for life.

The three men stood when I entered, and I bit back a laugh, no one, excepting Lord Kieran and his father, had ever stood when I entered a room. And who would have guessed Aiven would be standing for me?

The table they sat at was round, so no one could be at the head. After all, who would have sat at the head? Aiven had said he was of the same rank as the mage-prince Tullon. Of course, I would assume the older twin would outrank the younger one, as he stood to inherit the kingdom, which would mean Prince Rogien outranked Prince Tullon which would mean he also outranked Aiven, except Aiven outranked the king and the king obviously outranked his sons . . . I shook my head. Thinking about this was giving me a headache.

I sat at the seat left open to me, between the two princes. Of Rogien's other side was the blond, and then Aiven. Between Aiven and Prince Tullon was the brunette. I looked across the table, eyes connecting with Aiven's. I was caught between glaring at him defiantly, and looking away with a blush.

The latter one.

Was there a reason he had kissed me? He certainly didn't act as if he liked me, most of the time at least, but sometimes I would catch him looking at me . . . I sighed. It seemed to be the best way to express myself these days.

"We're honored you could join us," Prince Tullon said, bringing my hand to his lips - cue for evil stares from the ladies.

"I don't believe you've been introduced to Lady Kiebess or Duchess Landraia," Aiven said, inclining his head first to the blond and then to the brunette. HE didn't act embarrassed. HE acted as if absolutely nothing had happened, as if he hadn't kissed me last night or anything. I wanted to flutter my eyelashes and murmer, "Why Aiven dear, I don't believe I have." Instead I mutely shook my head, attaching a look of superiority to my features.

The two girls glared at me. I wanted nothing more then to stick my tongue out at them.

"My lady Damslae," the mage-prince said to me, drawing my hand again, "You made an extraordinary exit last night."

I laughed, remembering what happened when his brother had taken my hand. "You are better at this then our brother I told him. "But that may be do to the fact that there's no sugar bowl around." The twins and I laughed. Aiven looked bored and superior. The two girls looked jealous.

"There is to be a ball soon," the heir said, smiling at me, blue eyes sparkling. "An annual one held by Lady Chantaviene. I would be honored if you would accompany me. That is," and he raised an eyebrow, casting a look at Aiven, "if no one else has asked you."

Kieran had. Kieran had asked me, but no one would care if I turned down his offer to go with the prince. No one, except for Kieran who I didn't even like.

"Unfortunetly, she's already going with me," Aiven said smoothly. I glared at him.

"How about we settle that and she goes with me?" Prince Tullon said with a laugh. "After all, I'm the best of all worlds. A prince like Rogien and a mage like Aiven."

I got the feeling the two ladies wanted nothing more then to pound the life out of me.

"Actually," I murmured demurely, "I already have an escort."

"Do you now," Prince Tullon said, raising an eyebrow exactly like his twin had done.

"Yes," I said, as a servant but my food down. I watched as his clenched hands dropped the plate in front of me, recognized the jewel imbedded in his wrist. I frowned. These stones were attached to people - only criminals, according to the law - and nasty rumors accompanied them. That their bearers could only do would the person who had imbedded it in their skin told them too. That an incredible agony could spread through the person bearing it with a single word. I had never seen anyone actually wear one.

I glanced up at the servant's face, curious in a morbid sort of way to see what someone with one of these jewels would look like. My eyes caught the servants; they were blue, very deep and filled with pain. His face was pale and white - blond hair hung to his chin, which was lifted in a proud, defiant manner. His lips were pressed into two straight lines.

I felt my heart stop in astonishment. HE WAS ALIVE. Mt heart wrenched. That meant he had to have undergone terrible agony, incredible suffering and pain. He probably wasn't even the same person anymore . . .

"Laeli?" he said, voice shaking like I had never heard before.

"Oh my god," I whispered, then through myself out of my chair, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You're alive," I sobbed. "Gods, Johen, you're alive."