Orlind (52 page)

Horrified,
Llandry was obliged to get up, thread her way through all the seats
in front of her and make her way to the dais. Elder Shuly winked at
her as he shook hands, which made her feel a little better. She’d
known him since she was a child, but for a little while he had
seemed distant and formidable.

In spite of her
discomfort, she was gratified. It was evident that the title was
largely symbolic, similar in importance and relevance to the medals
and other decorations that were being distributed among those who
had defended Waeverleyne. But it was personal to her and to Ori,
and it was an honour; and if the prospect of entering a political
career of any sort at all was enough to set her heart quaking with
apprehension, she had confidence enough, now, to feel that she
would grow used to it in time.

‘
Avane
should be here,’ she whispered to Ori as they sat down again. ‘And
what about you, Pense?’

Pensould grinned.
‘They tried to honour me in similar fashion but I declined. I am
not, after all, a citizen here. As for Avane, I suspect she is
receiving a similar elevation in Glour. Ayrien is to be surrendered
to the draykoni as well, and they, too, will need
envoys.’

Llandry was a
little surprised to learn how easily the Seven - or Six - Realms
had agreed to hand over the Off-Worlds. But on reflection, she
realised that they had never really owned them, and they knew that.
Under the draykoni’s rule, the two Off-Worlds might be wrought into
something beneficial to both sides. Though she hoped very hard that
the character of the two places wouldn’t change too
much.

Well, she was in
a position to influence that now.

‘
Why
did you have the option to decline?’ she said, mildly affronted.
‘Nobody even warned me about this, let alone asked me if I wanted
it.’

Pensould tweaked
one of the plaits in her hair. ‘I believe they knew you would
refuse, just to avoid the ordeal of having your hand shaken in
front of the great-and-good of Waeverleyne.’

Llandry blushed,
unable to deny it. If her mother had told her about the proposal,
and about the ceremony, she might not have had the courage to go
through with it.

Or, she thought,
perhaps she would have. But it would have made for a thoroughly
unpleasant few days of apprehension beforehand. And if she was
honest with herself, it was an honour she didn’t wish to refuse.
She wished to see peace between humans and draykoni with all her
heart, and it suited her to help bring this about.

Pensould was to
make his home in Iskyr. He had always lived there before, and
Llandry knew that he would never feel comfortable in Waeverleyne.
He wasn’t even comfortable in his human form, not really, despite
his attempts to become so for her sake.

The prospect of
leaving the Seven took some getting used to. Glinnery had always
been her home, and she loved it whole-heartedly. The separation
from her parents, too, was hard. Never had it occurred to her that
she might do otherwise than marry someone from Waeverleyne and
settle close to her parents’ home. Part of her heart yearned to
follow that old plan, and stay within the borders of Waeverleyne.
She could visit Iskyr often; it would be perfectly possible to
perform her role as envoy that way.

But she loved
Iskyr, too, and as the time drew nearer for Pensould’s departure
her heart felt still more divided. She knew he would stay if she
asked him to, but he would not be happy in her world. Could she be
happy in his? And what of her parents? She was all that they had,
or would ever have.

In the end, it
was her mother who decided the issue. ‘You must do what will make
you happiest, love,’ she said, with a smile both sad and proud.
‘And you know we’ll always be here.’

Llan looked at
her father.

‘
You
know where you should be,’ he said gruffly. ‘Know it as well as we
do.’

He was right.
They were both right.

When Pensould
left her parents’ house, she followed him.

‘
What’s this, Minchu?’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘Are you
coming with me?’

‘
Yes,’
she said, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. ‘I’m
going with you.’

Pensould beamed.
‘How fortunate that I came prepared.’ Releasing her, he dug in a
pocket and produced a slightly squashed nara-fruit. This he
presented to her with a flourish.

‘
Thank
you,’ Llandry said doubtfully. ‘What’s this?’

Pensould’s smile
grew radiant. ‘Edible goods, Minchu, and all for you.’

A questing nose
appeared over the lip of her carry pouch and Sigwide climbed
out.

Food?
he
queried.

Pensould sighed.
‘All right, yes. For Master Sigwide too.’

***

As glad as Eva
was to go home, she suffered some trepidation about it, too. She
knew that the moment she returned there would be a thousand things
requiring her attention. And she was right.

She was kept
urgently busy as she told her various tales many times over, was
consulted with by innumerable officials and ministers, and visited
by every one of her friends, connections and acquaintances. She was
astonished to realise how long she’d been away, and quite run off
her feet with obligations.

None of that
interfered with her immense satisfaction in being home.

A day after her
return, an article appeared in one of the most popular of the
city’s gossip papers.

The
long-absent Lady Glostrum has returned to Glour at last
-
and she’s got a new wardrobe! We at the Society Week
predict that her ladyship’s trousers will be the biggest new trend
we’ve seen in the past decade.

The article
contained a quote she’d given to their lead reporter, and a large
picture.

On the following
day, Eva received a note from her tailor, Baynson. It was
brief.

To
Her Ladyship Evastany Glostrum:

Business has never been better. Thank you.

She immediately
sent him an order for ten new pairs of trousers.

Eva had taken
Avane and her son home to Glour sometime before. She attended the
ceremony that made the quiet sorceress into an ambassador to the
draykoni, feeling a stab of sympathy for her as she received her
new title. Avane wasn’t the usual type to enter politics and it
would be hard for her to adjust. But still, it was an honour, and
the new Lady Draykon seemed to feel it.

In the midst of
her busy activity and her popularity lay a sour note. Tren had left
her house soon after their return to Glour: he had been whisked
away at once to explain himself to his former boss, Lord Angstrun,
and many another person besides. His future had to be decided, job
offers to be presented and either accepted or turned down, and he
had spoken apprehensively about the house he had been renting
before he’d left. Did he even have a home anymore? Eva had heard
nothing from him about the outcome of any of this, and a week
passed without her seeing him at all. As time went on she felt
progressively more forgotten and more nervous. Many times she
considered going in search of him, but dismissed the idea: he must
be given time and space to arrange his life and affairs as he
chose. She would not chase him. But to wait in wretched uncertainty
for a lover to call was no habit of Eva’s, and she found it
difficult.

On one evening
nearly two weeks after her return from Orlind, Eva sat alone in her
parlour. The Night Cloak had settled in about an hour before, and
she was enjoying the first evening of peace and solitude she’d been
able to command since her return. She had a stack of newspapers and
circulars at her elbow and was steadily working her way through the
reports of the last few weeks when her doorbell rang.

Her heart leapt,
hoping that it would be Tren. She stuffed it back down ruthlessly,
reading herself a brief but stern lecture. Her doorbell had rung
many times over the last few days and every time she’d been
disappointed when it wasn’t Tren. That was something she would need
to get over.

She resisted the
temptation to leap to her feet and see who it was, instead waiting
quietly while Beane, her butler, trod his slow way across her tiled
floor and opened the door. Her parlour was near the front of the
house, but still the conversation at the door did not reach her
ears clearly enough to determine any more than that the visitor was
male. That alone was enough to set her foolish heart beating
faster.

Two sets of
footsteps made their way across the tiles and paused at her door.
Beane opened it just enough to admit himself, and bowed.

‘
Mr
Warvel, m’lady. I thought you’d be wanting to see him.’

Eva’s mood
flashed from suspense to joy to feverish apprehension in an
instant. He was here at last, but what was he here to
say?

‘
Thank
you, Beane,’ she said, keeping her voice steady with an effort. ‘Do
let him come in.’

‘
Ma’am.’ Beane stood aside to let Tren pass, then discreetly
left, closing the parlour door behind him.

Tren hovered in
the doorway, looking as uncertain as she felt. In one hand he
carried a travelling case.

Eva smiled at
him, trying to ignore the way her heart sank into the floor.
‘Welcome,’ she said simply. ‘It’s been some time, hasn’t
it?’

‘
It
does seem like a long time,’ he agreed, his eyes flicking to the
desk at which he’d once spent many hours reading. ‘I... um, am I
disturbing you?’

She folded up the
paper she’d been reading and threw it on the pile. ‘You’re not
disturbing anything important. I was just catching up. Can I offer
you something? Tea? Food?’

‘
Nothing, thank you,’ he smiled. He opened his mouth to say
something more, but then shut it again and hesitated.

‘
Why
don’t you put that down?’ she suggested, indicating the bag he
still clutched. ‘And have a seat. Are you going somewhere?’ The
question came out calmly enough, though she had to hide her
trembling fingers in her lap.

‘
I
hope so.’ He put down the bag and sat across from her. His whole
posture spoke of a lack of ease and a surfeit of apprehension. ‘I
need to speak to you. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch; I had a
few arrangements to make.’

‘
Of
course,’ she said steadily, hoping the conversation wouldn’t take
long. She didn’t trust her composure to last. ‘What would you like
to talk about?’

‘
Well... I was - that is - my apartment was still there. I
mean, it was still mine. I realised that...’ he stopped. ‘That is,
it’s completely unsuitable for - for anyone but me. I have only
four rooms, you see, and I never bothered to make much of a home
out of it. So I gave it up.’

She nodded. ‘And
where are you travelling to?’

He blinked.
‘Well. Here, or... so I hope.’

‘
Here,’ she repeated. Then comprehension dawned. ‘You mean...
you’re staying?’

‘
If
I’m welcome.’

‘
You
aren’t leaving Glour?’

His eyebrows
lifted. ‘Why would I leave Glour?’

She took a deep
breath. ‘I thought you might feel differently about... some
things... now that we’re back in Glour. I mean, it can be easy to
forget all manner of impediments when you’re far from home and
normal life seems so distant.’

‘
You
thought I was leaving you.’

‘
I did
think you might have reconsidered. Two weeks without word didn’t
help.’

He turned pale.
‘That’s what you were thinking? I’m sorry! Truly, I am. I knew you
were busy and I didn’t think you’d want to be pestered with my
selfish requirements.’

Eva smiled a
little. ‘Why don’t you tell me what those “selfish requirements”
are?’

‘
I
want you to stay with me,’ he said promptly. ‘Tradition dictates
that I ought to invite you to my home, but I didn’t think you’d
take kindly to a cramped bachelor’s house. The question is, do you
want an irritating youth loafing around your beautiful aristocratic
manor?’

‘
It
depends how fond I am of the irritating youth,’ she said
reflectively. ‘If we suppose me to be
very
fond of him, I
imagine we can make some arrangement.’

Some of the
tension left Tren’s face and he smiled. ‘You’re being indirect and
I wish you wouldn’t be.’

‘
Well,
you’re the one who chose to sit on the opposite side of the room
like a stranger.’

Tren opened his
arms and Eva didn’t hesitate. She crossed to him and deposited
herself in his lap with a sigh of relief. ‘You’re hard work,’ she
told him.

‘
Hey.
I’m trying not to be encroaching.’

‘
Feel
free to encroach. You have permission.’

His hands
tightened on her waist. ‘Does that mean you’ll marry
me?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Ummm.’ He blinked down at her. ‘That’s it? Just
yes?’