him on a very personal basis. I do not want to disappoint him, and I want him to like you as well.”
“An action you are not entirely sure is possible.”
“Perhaps. It is not that Seer Ringali dislikes humans—it’s quite the reverse, he has dedicated his life to them. It is more that he disapproves of setting my profession aside, even if it is only for a time, and he is very likely to see you as the catalyst for my decision,” Tari said.
“Ah,” Arion said before nodding at the road. “A carriage approaches, is that his?”
There was a clearly posted emblem on the carriage door: a large star circled by smaller constellations. “It is,” Tari confirmed, adopting her best posture.
The horses, two pairs of dapple grays, pulled up to the paved circle designed for passengers to descend from their modes of transportation at. A footman and two grooms—previously arranged for by Evlawyn and Tari—rushed forward to take the horses and open the door.
The carriage steps were kicked out, and Tari and Arion sunk into elaborate bows as a tall elf climbed out of the carriage.
“Seer Ringali, it is my greatest pleasure to receive you at the Palace of Haven,” Tari said, straightening up from her bow.
Seer Ringali stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, studying Tari and Arion from the superior angle. His hair was the rich color of chocolate truffles, partially tied back and ornamented by a gold clasp. He wore black robes, which dully gleamed in the morning light, and he held a black silk fan—which he twitched open and closed.
“Hn,” he said before descending the stairs with the liquidity of water. He circled Tari and Arion, still snapping his fan.
“Allow me to introduce you to my bond partner, Captain Arion Herycian,” Tari said, sweeping her hand in Arion’s direction.
When Seer Ringali set his piercing eyes on Arion, the captain repeated his bow. “Welcome, Seer Ringali,” he said in elvish, pronouncing Seer Ringali’s name with perfect inflection.
Tari almost dropped her hand in surprise as she stared at Arion. Since receiving her letter she had been coaching the ca ptain in the correct pronunciation of Seer Ringali’s name. The stony man had persisted in slaughtering it. He had said it not two minutes ago utterly incorrectly! He’s holding out on me! Is he learning to speak elvish as I am learning to speak human?
“Hn,” Seer Ringali sniffed, hiding the l ower half of his face behind the open fan before turning to Tari. “I can see you have housebroken him,” he said. “But clearly he is too big to be of much use. Is he part wolf?”
“Captain Arion is the captain of a n Honor Guard squad here in Haven,” Tari said.
“H is title made that observation unfailingly obvious,” Seer Ringali said, studying Tari from head to foot. “Your wit has thickened, however you surprisingly do not seem to have grown flabby in my absence, but,” he shut his fan and struck out, brandishing it like a dagger as he aimed to hit Tari in the neck.
Tari raised her arm and blocked the blow, but the blow would not have landed anyway as Arion—just as quickly as Seer Ringali—caught the elder elf by the wrist.
Seer Ringali stepped back—pulling his hand from Arion’s grasp and Tari’s block. He blinked at Arion, as if viewing him in a different light, and tucked his arms in his sleeves for a moment. When he pulled them apart he held out a Berry Drop—hardened, brightly colored berry juice rolled in sugar—and dropped it in Arion’s hand when the captain slowly opened it.
“Good boy,” Seer Ringali said, patting the top of Arion’s head with the fan.
Arion looked to Tari, who nodded.
Arion placed the treat in his mouth, frowning and looking down in thought as he sucked on the hard candy.
Seer Ringali nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Tari. “You have still been practicing, good. I find it assuring your man toy is protective. That is also good. He will keep you alive when you
“An action you are not entirely sure is possible.”
“Perhaps. It is not that Seer Ringali dislikes humans—it’s quite the reverse, he has dedicated his life to them. It is more that he disapproves of setting my profession aside, even if it is only for a time, and he is very likely to see you as the catalyst for my decision,” Tari said.
“Ah,” Arion said before nodding at the road. “A carriage approaches, is that his?”
There was a clearly posted emblem on the carriage door: a large star circled by smaller constellations. “It is,” Tari confirmed, adopting her best posture.
The horses, two pairs of dapple grays, pulled up to the paved circle designed for passengers to descend from their modes of transportation at. A footman and two grooms—previously arranged for by Evlawyn and Tari—rushed forward to take the horses and open the door.
The carriage steps were kicked out, and Tari and Arion sunk into elaborate bows as a tall elf climbed out of the carriage.
“Seer Ringali, it is my greatest pleasure to receive you at the Palace of Haven,” Tari said, straightening up from her bow.
Seer Ringali stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, studying Tari and Arion from the superior angle. His hair was the rich color of chocolate truffles, partially tied back and ornamented by a gold clasp. He wore black robes, which dully gleamed in the morning light, and he held a black silk fan—which he twitched open and closed.
“Hn,” he said before descending the stairs with the liquidity of water. He circled Tari and Arion, still snapping his fan.
“Allow me to introduce you to my bond partner, Captain Arion Herycian,” Tari said, sweeping her hand in Arion’s direction.
When Seer Ringali set his piercing eyes on Arion, the captain repeated his bow. “Welcome, Seer Ringali,” he said in elvish, pronouncing Seer Ringali’s name with perfect inflection.
Tari almost dropped her hand in surprise as she stared at Arion. Since receiving her letter she had been coaching the ca ptain in the correct pronunciation of Seer Ringali’s name. The stony man had persisted in slaughtering it. He had said it not two minutes ago utterly incorrectly! He’s holding out on me! Is he learning to speak elvish as I am learning to speak human?
“Hn,” Seer Ringali sniffed, hiding the l ower half of his face behind the open fan before turning to Tari. “I can see you have housebroken him,” he said. “But clearly he is too big to be of much use. Is he part wolf?”
“Captain Arion is the captain of a n Honor Guard squad here in Haven,” Tari said.
“H is title made that observation unfailingly obvious,” Seer Ringali said, studying Tari from head to foot. “Your wit has thickened, however you surprisingly do not seem to have grown flabby in my absence, but,” he shut his fan and struck out, brandishing it like a dagger as he aimed to hit Tari in the neck.
Tari raised her arm and blocked the blow, but the blow would not have landed anyway as Arion—just as quickly as Seer Ringali—caught the elder elf by the wrist.
Seer Ringali stepped back—pulling his hand from Arion’s grasp and Tari’s block. He blinked at Arion, as if viewing him in a different light, and tucked his arms in his sleeves for a moment. When he pulled them apart he held out a Berry Drop—hardened, brightly colored berry juice rolled in sugar—and dropped it in Arion’s hand when the captain slowly opened it.
“Good boy,” Seer Ringali said, patting the top of Arion’s head with the fan.
Arion looked to Tari, who nodded.
Arion placed the treat in his mouth, frowning and looking down in thought as he sucked on the hard candy.
Seer Ringali nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Tari. “You have still been practicing, good. I find it assuring your man toy is protective. That is also good. He will keep you alive when you
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