She sighed. “I understand that a man in his position has to make hard choices in his defence and the defence of those he cares for.”
Did Valhan care for anyone? Since arriving in the palace she had seen him fewer times than she could count on both hands, and always the encounter had been brief. He was not one to give away much of his thoughts and feelings in his face or manner. She could only try to read him from his actions, but she wasn’t seeing any of those either. All she could judge him on was the fact that he had brought her to his world, arranged for her to be taught magic, and hadn’t killed her.
Falling into a companionable silence, they continued back to the palace. When they reached the unassuming side door through which she always left the building her feet were tickled by a faint vibration.
Dahli snapped to attention, back straight, eyes focused somewhere in the distance. “He’s back,” he said. An unnecessary warning, since she’d experienced the sensation several times now and knew its meaning. “We must hurry. He… he may want a report on your progress, and we both need to wash and change clothing first.”
“Yes,” she agreed, though with none of his urgency. Each time Valhan had visited he’d asked after her training, but he showed all the interest of a peer who was being polite. “But I doubt it’s the top item on his to-do list for today. More likely at the bottom.”
Dahli had quickened his stride, plunging down a passage that led towards their rooms, but now he paused and looked back. “When the Raen commands his most loyal to tackle a task, it is not at the bottom of his to-do list.”
She suppressed a laugh at his indignation, not completely sure if he was joking or not. As he hurried on she lengthened her stride to keep up.
“He never seems all that concerned.”
“That is not his way.”
“And he must have more pressing things to worry about.”
“I assure you he is very interested in your training.”
She shrugged, though he was in front and couldn’t see the gesture. “Why? I’m not important.”
“He feels you are, therefore you are.”
“I can’t see why. If he needed more sorcerers to help him he could easily find one with more aptitude than I have. I’m better at making magic then using it. I’m better at using paint than magic, too. He obviously doesn’t want me for my company, and I’m hardly… well…”
“What?”
“Ah… never mind.”
He glanced back, then stopped.
“You hesitate to speak. Now I’m very interested. Go on. Out with it or I’ll insist you meet him now.”
She looked down at her filthy clothes. “I’m no great beauty.”
His eyebrows rose. “He has no interest in you in that regard.” He turned away. “You wouldn’t be the first to wish it were otherwise.”
“Oh, I have no ambitions in that direction,” she assured him. “And I would never have agreed to come here if I thought… if I thought I was in that kind of danger.”
“You are not.” His tone was gentler. He turned away and resumed walking, though slower now. “Few women can resist if Valhan wishes to seduce them, but I’ve not seen him do so in centuries. At least, not for the purpose of seduction. And never to an unwilling, er, seductee.”
Rielle nodded, not sure whether to be reassured or more worried by his answer. What Valhan did with other women was none of her concern, so long as he wasn’t the type to force his interest on any.
But Dahli’s answer still didn’t explain Valhan’s interest in her progress as a sorcerer. If all he wanted was to repay her for helping him leave his world it didn’t matter how well and quickly she was progressing. She sighed. How could she ever guess what motivated a man as old and powerful as he? Maybe if she ever lived as long as he had, she would understand. Which meant she would be mystified for a very long time.
And thankful.
CHAPTER 17
The Arrival Hall was, as far as she could tell, at the centre of the palace. It did not link up to the sequence of halls a visitor must travel through on arrival, nor was it as large or imposing. As Dahli led the way through a side door Rielle glanced at the enormous timepiece at one end, hanging high above a dais. It was an hour past the time her morning lessons usually began.
A man stood on the dais, talking to a middle-aged woman Rielle recognised as one of the head servants. The woman nodded, the movement exaggerated so it was almost a bow, then hurried away. Valhan turned, stepped down and walked towards her and Dahli, his every movement smooth and graceful. As always, he was dressed in dark, simple clothing.
Angels, he is a beautiful man.