word soon comes that he’s missing in battle and is presumed dead, Lenshi knows in her heart that Amsuro is still alive.
“But when she goes to search for him, her brothers stop her. It’s not just because it would be too dangerous. A Jehangli noblewoman would never be allowed to do anything like that. They’re very sheltered.
“So for many days and nights Lenshi prays to the Phoenix—the Jehangli worship it—for help. Her prayers are heard—she turns into a swallow and flies off to look for her husband.
“After many years, she finds Amsuro, who is a prisoner of the enemy. But by then she’s been a bird for so long that she can’t change back. Nor can she tell him who she is, for she’s lost the power of speech. All Lenshi can do is sit on her husband’s shoulder or flutter around him. He thinks of her as a pet.
“Eventually Amsuro escapes and Lenshi leads him back to their home. Finding their house empty, Amsuro thinks Lenshi has deserted him. He curses her for a faithless jade and takes a new wife. On his wedding day, Lenshi flies one last time to rest in his cupped hands, then dies of a broken heart.”
Shima looked at Merrilee; the dying firelight glittered on tears standing in her eyes. “I warned you it was very sad,” he said, feeling a little guilty.
“You did, my lord,” she said. “You did, and I thank you for telling it to me, Shima Ilyathan. I think I shall go to my room now. Soot”—the name she had bestowed upon the kitten—“must think he’s been abandoned.” Her voice broke on the last word and she rose unsteadily to her feet.
Karelinn stood up as well. She said “Merri…?” as she slipped an arm around her sister’s shoulders.
It was not enough, or perhaps too much. The tears spilled over; Merrilee pulled away and ran sobbing from the room. Lord Ephris and Lady Kiela turned in their chairs to stare after her in surprise.
Spirits! Shima thought, bewildered by Merrilee’s reaction. It wasn’t that sad a story—at least not the way I tell it!
He looked to Lord Ephris and Lady Kiela for understanding. They glared in icy accusation as they rose and left the room as well.
Shima leaned back against the wall. But I didn’t do anything! he wanted to protest. He caught Karelinn’s eye as she turned back. She stared at him, her eyes cold and distant.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he implored. “I did warn her. Should I have refused? I had no idea she was so tenderhearted.”
Karelinn blinked; the frozen stare disappeared, to be replaced by a look of contrition. “I’m sorry, Dragonlord; I didn’t mean to imply it was your fault at all. I—I wasn’t even seeing you—”
She broke off as her father burst through the door. He looked as harried as a fox with a pack of hounds on his tail and no way over the river before it. “Karelinn—what on earth happened to Merri? I saw her just now on her way up to the rooms. She tried to tell me she’s not crying, but I know she is. Is she still thinking about that worthless scoundrel?” The harried look disappeared, banished by a frown as Lord Romsley snapped, “You’re supposed to keep her from—”
Karelinn burst out, “And how am I to do that, Father? I can’t tell her what to think!”
Her father glared at her, lips pressed together.
“I—I’m sorry, Father.” Her distressed whisper was hardly louder than the rustle of a leaf.
“The gods know I’m not an unreasonable man, but—”
It was, Shima decided, time to end this. Lord Romsley stopped, flustered, as the Tah’nehsieh Dragonlord stepped out of the shadows.
“Oh, er, ah—hello, Shima Ilyathan. I—I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I beg your pardon.”
“Not at all, Lord Romsley. It is I who should be begging your pardon. I’m afraid it’s my fault that Lady Merrilee is unhappy.”
Romsley’s expression shifted to half-indignant, half-astonished. “Eh? What do you mean, Your Grace?”
“Lady Merrilee asked me to recite something in
“But when she goes to search for him, her brothers stop her. It’s not just because it would be too dangerous. A Jehangli noblewoman would never be allowed to do anything like that. They’re very sheltered.
“So for many days and nights Lenshi prays to the Phoenix—the Jehangli worship it—for help. Her prayers are heard—she turns into a swallow and flies off to look for her husband.
“After many years, she finds Amsuro, who is a prisoner of the enemy. But by then she’s been a bird for so long that she can’t change back. Nor can she tell him who she is, for she’s lost the power of speech. All Lenshi can do is sit on her husband’s shoulder or flutter around him. He thinks of her as a pet.
“Eventually Amsuro escapes and Lenshi leads him back to their home. Finding their house empty, Amsuro thinks Lenshi has deserted him. He curses her for a faithless jade and takes a new wife. On his wedding day, Lenshi flies one last time to rest in his cupped hands, then dies of a broken heart.”
Shima looked at Merrilee; the dying firelight glittered on tears standing in her eyes. “I warned you it was very sad,” he said, feeling a little guilty.
“You did, my lord,” she said. “You did, and I thank you for telling it to me, Shima Ilyathan. I think I shall go to my room now. Soot”—the name she had bestowed upon the kitten—“must think he’s been abandoned.” Her voice broke on the last word and she rose unsteadily to her feet.
Karelinn stood up as well. She said “Merri…?” as she slipped an arm around her sister’s shoulders.
It was not enough, or perhaps too much. The tears spilled over; Merrilee pulled away and ran sobbing from the room. Lord Ephris and Lady Kiela turned in their chairs to stare after her in surprise.
Spirits! Shima thought, bewildered by Merrilee’s reaction. It wasn’t that sad a story—at least not the way I tell it!
He looked to Lord Ephris and Lady Kiela for understanding. They glared in icy accusation as they rose and left the room as well.
Shima leaned back against the wall. But I didn’t do anything! he wanted to protest. He caught Karelinn’s eye as she turned back. She stared at him, her eyes cold and distant.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he implored. “I did warn her. Should I have refused? I had no idea she was so tenderhearted.”
Karelinn blinked; the frozen stare disappeared, to be replaced by a look of contrition. “I’m sorry, Dragonlord; I didn’t mean to imply it was your fault at all. I—I wasn’t even seeing you—”
She broke off as her father burst through the door. He looked as harried as a fox with a pack of hounds on his tail and no way over the river before it. “Karelinn—what on earth happened to Merri? I saw her just now on her way up to the rooms. She tried to tell me she’s not crying, but I know she is. Is she still thinking about that worthless scoundrel?” The harried look disappeared, banished by a frown as Lord Romsley snapped, “You’re supposed to keep her from—”
Karelinn burst out, “And how am I to do that, Father? I can’t tell her what to think!”
Her father glared at her, lips pressed together.
“I—I’m sorry, Father.” Her distressed whisper was hardly louder than the rustle of a leaf.
“The gods know I’m not an unreasonable man, but—”
It was, Shima decided, time to end this. Lord Romsley stopped, flustered, as the Tah’nehsieh Dragonlord stepped out of the shadows.
“Oh, er, ah—hello, Shima Ilyathan. I—I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I beg your pardon.”
“Not at all, Lord Romsley. It is I who should be begging your pardon. I’m afraid it’s my fault that Lady Merrilee is unhappy.”
Romsley’s expression shifted to half-indignant, half-astonished. “Eh? What do you mean, Your Grace?”
“Lady Merrilee asked me to recite something in
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