Read Online Dragon in Exile - eARC by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee - Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee
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talk in your direction, so your conversational duty’s covered.”
That was…kind. He felt tears rise again, and blinked them away.
“I am grateful,” he murmured, and picked up the proper spoon. The soup was excellent.
“I wonder if you might advise me,” he murmured, looking again to his host.
She tipped her head to show that she was listening.
“Yes. I…believe that I will not do justice to a full formal meal. At…home, we are accustomed to simpler fare.”
“Just eat what you want. If the soup’s enough, that’s fine; maybe with some finger-food, to fill in the edges. If it’ll ease you, we ain’t doing full formal—hardly ever do. Tonight we got the soup, the main course, and dessert. Which is pretty informal.” She looked momentarily owlish. “So they tell me. Kareen ain’t comfortable unless we dress, else you’d’ve caught us in Surebleak motley, and you all prettied up!”
He smiled. “My grandmother would not have me shame the kompani by calling upon my brother in less than the best I might wear,” he said.
“Very proper,” came the overly clear voice of the elder aunt.
He raised his eyes to look at her, and she inclined her head.
“One has naturally been informed of the circumstances of the delm’s brother. May one inquire as to your grandmother’s name?”
“Indeed.” He met the lady’s eyes firmly, his experience of such being that anything less than firmness would mark him as dismissible.
“My grandmother’s name is Silain Bedel. Her title, by which it is proper for those not of the kompani to address her, is luthia .”
“I thank you,” the lady said, with sharp, but seemingly genuine sincerity. “One makes a study, you understand, of modes of politeness. I would not wish to err, nor to give offense, should I have the honor of meeting Silain- luthia .”
“One’s grandmother holds similar views,” he murmured, glancing down to find that his empty soup dish had been removed, replaced by a plate of small savories, and another, of warm rolls.
“Politeness smooths many paths,” the pale-haired mother of his brother’s sister said in laborious Liaden. She smiled, open and utterly Terran, and he felt an immediate affection for her, as one might for a child.
“Please—” this was again the elder aunt—“commend me to your grandmother, if you will. I am Lady Kareen. It would be my very great pleasure to have Silain- luthia to tea, perhaps also including Scholar Waitley, if she does not object. I do understand that we are inconveniently located, here at the end of the Road. Rather than demand such a journey from the luthia , I would be pleased to host her at the house of my son, in the city. Or perhaps she may recommend an appropriate bakery or tea-shop where we might meet as equals.”
He inclined his head.
“I will take your message to my grandmother, Lady,” he murmured, careful not to make any promise on Silain’s behalf.
“Thank you,” she said, bestowing a cool smile upon him, and turned her attention to the scholar.
Rys gave a silent sigh of relief to have lost her scrutiny, reached for his glass, and sipped, carefully. The wine was white, floral, with an after-note of lemon. He smiled, and sipped again, enjoying the simple vintage.
“Good evening, Rys,” came a voice he knew very well, indeed.
He looked across the table to meet the silver eyes of Anthora yos’Galan, known to some as “Korval’s Witch.” It had been Anthora yos’Galan who had read his mind and his heart during his questioning by Judge Natesa. It had been Anthora yos’Galan who had certified that he had regained what the Department’s training had left of his former self; and that he was no further danger to Korval, or to himself.
He owed Anthora yos’Galan…more than his life, and he would thus remain forever in her debt.
“Good evening, Lady,” he said respectfully.
“No, now that you are come as Val Con’s brother, I must be Anthora,” she told him, and
That was…kind. He felt tears rise again, and blinked them away.
“I am grateful,” he murmured, and picked up the proper spoon. The soup was excellent.
“I wonder if you might advise me,” he murmured, looking again to his host.
She tipped her head to show that she was listening.
“Yes. I…believe that I will not do justice to a full formal meal. At…home, we are accustomed to simpler fare.”
“Just eat what you want. If the soup’s enough, that’s fine; maybe with some finger-food, to fill in the edges. If it’ll ease you, we ain’t doing full formal—hardly ever do. Tonight we got the soup, the main course, and dessert. Which is pretty informal.” She looked momentarily owlish. “So they tell me. Kareen ain’t comfortable unless we dress, else you’d’ve caught us in Surebleak motley, and you all prettied up!”
He smiled. “My grandmother would not have me shame the kompani by calling upon my brother in less than the best I might wear,” he said.
“Very proper,” came the overly clear voice of the elder aunt.
He raised his eyes to look at her, and she inclined her head.
“One has naturally been informed of the circumstances of the delm’s brother. May one inquire as to your grandmother’s name?”
“Indeed.” He met the lady’s eyes firmly, his experience of such being that anything less than firmness would mark him as dismissible.
“My grandmother’s name is Silain Bedel. Her title, by which it is proper for those not of the kompani to address her, is luthia .”
“I thank you,” the lady said, with sharp, but seemingly genuine sincerity. “One makes a study, you understand, of modes of politeness. I would not wish to err, nor to give offense, should I have the honor of meeting Silain- luthia .”
“One’s grandmother holds similar views,” he murmured, glancing down to find that his empty soup dish had been removed, replaced by a plate of small savories, and another, of warm rolls.
“Politeness smooths many paths,” the pale-haired mother of his brother’s sister said in laborious Liaden. She smiled, open and utterly Terran, and he felt an immediate affection for her, as one might for a child.
“Please—” this was again the elder aunt—“commend me to your grandmother, if you will. I am Lady Kareen. It would be my very great pleasure to have Silain- luthia to tea, perhaps also including Scholar Waitley, if she does not object. I do understand that we are inconveniently located, here at the end of the Road. Rather than demand such a journey from the luthia , I would be pleased to host her at the house of my son, in the city. Or perhaps she may recommend an appropriate bakery or tea-shop where we might meet as equals.”
He inclined his head.
“I will take your message to my grandmother, Lady,” he murmured, careful not to make any promise on Silain’s behalf.
“Thank you,” she said, bestowing a cool smile upon him, and turned her attention to the scholar.
Rys gave a silent sigh of relief to have lost her scrutiny, reached for his glass, and sipped, carefully. The wine was white, floral, with an after-note of lemon. He smiled, and sipped again, enjoying the simple vintage.
“Good evening, Rys,” came a voice he knew very well, indeed.
He looked across the table to meet the silver eyes of Anthora yos’Galan, known to some as “Korval’s Witch.” It had been Anthora yos’Galan who had read his mind and his heart during his questioning by Judge Natesa. It had been Anthora yos’Galan who had certified that he had regained what the Department’s training had left of his former self; and that he was no further danger to Korval, or to himself.
He owed Anthora yos’Galan…more than his life, and he would thus remain forever in her debt.
“Good evening, Lady,” he said respectfully.
“No, now that you are come as Val Con’s brother, I must be Anthora,” she told him, and
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