not having yet sunk to the point of swearing at the flamboyant drivers and riders who challenged her right to cross the streets. There were times, however, when she wondered how much longer she could restrain herself under the trying conditions. She had lived in the Avylyn household long enough to acquire a wide assortment of colorful phrases.
She dreaded the day she would start using those phrases because it would mean she had allowed herself to be dragged one step deeper into this crazy culture.
She made it across the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a teenager on a high spirited dragonpony, and saw with relief that Etion Rakken was waiting for her in the usual spot. His deep red hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes regarded her with genuine appreciation as she walked toward him. He was sitting under an awning at a popular sidewalk cafe.
Rakken was wearing a version of the local masculine fashion. It wasn't quite as colorful as the attire of the males around him, but neither was it as severely tailored as what he would have worn back in Rendezvous. Etion liked to say he had adapted to the local culture. Sariana sometimes feared the changes in him had gone even deeper. Etion had given up all thought of going home.
Today he had on a dark brown frockcoat, a beribboned white shirt and yellow breeches and hose. Sariana risked a discreet glance downward to see if Etion had taken to wearing a codpiece yet. She was relieved to discover he had not. There was still hope for him, she thought with wry humor.
Sariana smiled brilliantly for the first time that day as she exchanged greetings and took the seat beside Etion. He had already ordered tea and a plate of pretty little cakes for her. She couldn't help but notice, however, that he was on his second mug of ale. A year ago he had kept his drinking limited to the evenings. But sometime during the past few months he had started ordering ale at luncheon. Now he was starting in on the ale at mid-morning tea. The knowledge disturbed her. Etion was changing. To take her mind off that unhappy thought she picked up her teapot and examined it with an admiring eye.
It seemed to Sariana that nothing in the western provinces was ever plain or merely functional. The westerners loved decoration, the more elaborate, the better. The tea Etion had requested had arrived in a beautiful little pot designed to look like a wedding coach, and every centimeter of the cakes on her plate was frosted with fancy swirls and patterns.
"You look most charming today, Sariana. A very elegant, cool and serene little lightbird among all these mad, fluttering, squawking keenshees. How are you?"
"A bit frazzled to tell you the truth." Sariana wished very badly that she could confide completely in Etion. He already knew just about everything there was to know about the Avylyn family finances. He might as well know about the missing prisma cutter and the hired Shield, too.
But she couldn't betray the Avylyns' confidence. They were frantic about getting the cutter back. They were also adamant that no one outside the immediate family know the scandalous truth. The hiring of Gryph Chassyn and the reason why were to remain dark secrets within the household.
"You don't know how good it is to see you today, Etion. It's been the usual madhouse at the Avylyns for the past few days, especially with the annual costume ball coming up soon. I had no idea of the enormity of the event when I agreed to budget for it."
"I warned you. Nobody here entertains in a casual fashion. I suppose Lady Avylyn wants to spend three times as much as you have allowed?"
"At least. Etion, nobody in that family has any concept of economy or financial
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