“But this might be useful. Do you think he’ll let me keep it?”
“Kitling,” Bellusdeo said, her eyes as gold as they had been since entering a room that also contained Lord Diarmat, “Sometimes you really surprise me. In a good way. Yes, I’m certain he’ll let you keep it. If you ask, he might be slightly mollified.”
“Could you try to stop antagonizing him on my behalf?”
“I’m doing it on my own behalf.”
“Then could you try to antagonize him when I’m not here? He’s had it in for me since the first day we met—and I’m his only safe target.”
“Which is contemptible; it is hardly deserving of consideration.”
Kaylin generally agreed with this. “I don’t think he’s trying to be contemptible. I think he’s worried.” Before Bellusdeo could speak, she rushed on. “Look—I’m the last person I would send into diplomatic waters. I’m only sent to the expensive parts of town when there’s been magical interference, or worse, and I’m sent with senior Hawks who do all the talking. I’m trying to learn how to behave—”
“I see nothing wrong with your behavior.”
“—like a Hawk. I’m trying to think before I speak. But I often fail, and I don’t want that to reflect poorly on the Halls of Law. He’s not wrong about me and diplomacy.”
“Why is it that you’re expected to conform to everyone else, and not the other way around?”
“Because I’m mortal, and I’m a private?”
“That was rhetorical. From everything you’ve said, the Consort knows what you’re like, and she accepted the invitation. She’s hardly going to start a diplomatic dustup if you fail to behave like any other Barrani Lord.”
“Oh—and that’s another thing. Could you please stop calling me ‘Lord Kaylin?’”
11
Lord Diarmat was not gone long. Kaylin had made it through four pages of High Barrani when the door opened; she almost dropped the report. But she wasn’t doing anything wrong, even by draconian standards, and managed to maintain her grip on what was essentially a large book.
“It appears,” Lord Diarmat said, to Bellusdeo, not Kaylin, “that the Arkon is, indeed, planning to attend.” The words sounded more like an accusation than a confirmation.
“We have therefore satisfied the Imperial condition. A member of the Dragon Court will be in attendance, and he will oversee Lord Kaylin’s meeting with the Consort. Is there anything else?”
“Forms of address.”
“Lord Kaylin has an appointment of some import this evening. If you could keep this short and to the point, I’m sure it would be appreciated.”
The familiar sighed loudly in Kaylin’s left ear. This was enough of a warning that she could lift her free hand—the one not gripping a sheaf of bound papers—to cover that ear. He squawked. Loudly.
Both of the Dragons turned to look at him. As he was pretty much sitting right beside Kaylin’s face, that meant they were staring at her. But they weren’t glaring.
Squawk. Squawk.
“Can you understand him?” Kaylin asked Diarmat, forgetting entirely the correct form of address.
Diarmat’s expression made clear that he noticed. Then again, he noticed everything. “I can. I do not understand all of what he says. Do you understand any of it?”
“Not well.” As his expression shifted, she surrendered. “Not at all, not when he’s this size. I understand him when he’s bigger. Or when he’s...not in this shape.”
“I will not hold you responsible for his actions or his comments, but I suggest you train him.”
This caused predictable outrage on the part of her left shoulder ornament, but it lightened Bellusdeo’s orange eyes a bit.
Diarmat did not ignore this, however. He bowed to the familiar. “My apologies. It is your size. I forget myself.”
Bellusdeo gasped in theatrical shock, which soured Diarmat’s grim expression further. But for a moment, Kaylin felt as if she were at her breakfast table, and both Mandoran and Bellusdeo were champing at the bit in frustration and boredom. Diarmat did not keep score the way Mandoran did; he didn’t make a game of it. But she thought he made a game of nothing in his life—nothing was play, to him. Everything was serious.
“I see you have already begun to review the material the Court has gathered for you.”
She nodded. “I know it won’t mean much, but thank you for this.”
“I expect you to memorize its contents before the Consort arrives at your domicile.”
Kaylin nodded. “I have every intention,” she said, in High Barrani, “of doing exactly that. What else do you think I should know?”
His eyes did round, then, although he brought the brief hint of actual surprise back into line in a heartbeat. “The correct form of address.”
“Kaylin is a Lord of the High Court; surely her position there takes precedence.”
Diarmat ignored Bellusdeo. Kaylin was very, very fond of the gold Dragon, but understood that ignoring her—for anyone—wasn’t smart. “The Consort,” she said quickly, and in the same High Barrani, “seems to favor informality from me. I can address her as you would address her in the same circumstance, but she would immediately assume that I was doing it because I’d been ordered to do it. And your orders would then supersede her comfort.”
He raised one brow this time. “Very good. I would otherwise assume that your lack of respect was merely ignorance, not choice.”
Kaylin swallowed, because she was ignorant: she simply didn’t know. She resented being judged for her ignorance; she always had. But she wasn’t thirteen anymore. She couldn’t assume that he was saying she was stupid. At thirteen, she couldn’t separate the two.
And if she was a Hawk, she had to do better. She glanced once at Bellusdeo, who shrugged, her eyes orange. “I would appreciate it,” she said—trying to sound as if “appreciate” did not equal “would rather walk over hot coals in bare feet”—“if you would teach me the difference. I know how to address the Imperial Court, and I know how to address the Lords of Law; I know how to respond to sergeants and I know how to respond to members of the human Caste Court.” Luckily, he didn’t call her on the last one, although it wasn’t technically a lie. Her natural distaste for men of power made her instinctive reaction twofold: one, to hide, and two, to treat them as if they weren’t as special as they thought power made them.
“I’ve spoken with the Consort on many occasions. I have only once caused great offense, and no amount of respect for her position would have changed that.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I really regret that she was angry at me,” Kaylin replied, falling into Elantran as she considered the question. As Bellusdeo cleared her throat, she immediately switched to High Barrani again. “But there is no choice I could have made that would have altered that anger. We fundamentally disagreed about a course of action. I could—and can—understand her point of view; I do not condemn the choice she would have made. But I could not make it.”