“Appreciate … an interesting choice of words.”
“Not really. Accurate. Appreciation of anyone or anything is the first step to understanding.” He smiles. “Then, perhaps understanding should come first. Either way, I think they go hand in hand.”
“In that, I would quite agree.” Haesychya gestures. “This way. She is in the lady’s study she seems to have appropriated.” She leads the way into the entry hall.
Lerial follows, then moves beside her.
“I had thought we might not see you again, except at official functions, and that would mean not at all, since there are likely to be none at all for the foreseeable future.”
“Proper mourning, you mean?” As he asks the question, Lerial realizes that he has not seen mourning head scarves on either Haesychya or Kyedra. But then, they don’t wear head scarves in the home … or family homes.
“Proper hypocrisy. Only a few care.”
“You, Kyedra, and Rhamuel … perhaps a very few others,” Lerial says.
“You don’t.”
“How could I care that deeply—honestly? Mourning would only convey respect on my part. I met your consort once, as a child, and twice more here. You cannot mourn, not deeply, someone you do not know. I am far more deeply concerned about what his death has cost you and Kyedra.”
Haesychya almost stops short of the north archway, looking at Lerial. “You actually mean that. Why?”
“I’ve seen enough of you both to have more feelings and understanding about you two.”
“I should have asked why you were willing to say that.” She keeps walking along the north corridor.
“Because it’s true.”
She shakes her head ruefully. “‘Truth’ is a word whose meaning is unique to each person.”
“Usually … but not always.”
Haesychya does not reply but eases open a door on the west side of the corridor. “Dear, you have a caller.”
Lerial stands in the doorway with Haesychya, unwilling to enter unless welcomed in some fashion.
For just an instant, Kyedra’s eyes widen, in pleasure, Lerial hopes. He inclines his head. “It came to me that with all the aiding of your grandfather and uncle I had not paid you the attention I wished.”
“You truly are here to see me, and not Grandpapa?”
“I had no thoughts at all of seeing him. He seemed perfectly healthy yesterday, and I have no doubt I would hear were he not.” Lerial takes several steps into the room, hoping her expression is at least a conditional welcome.
“I will leave you two,” Haesychya steps out of the study and closes the door behind herself.
For a moment, neither Kyedra nor Lerial speaks.
Finally, Kyedra motions to the armchairs flanking a low table. “We could sit.”
Lerial smiles. “We could indeed, Lady.”
“That…”
“… sounds too formal? Perhaps, but I would not wish to be presumptuous.” Not after all you have been through.
“You’ve been anything but.” Kyedra offers a mischievous smile. “Except with your eyes.”
“I like it when you smile.”
“I believe you’ve mentioned that before.”
“It bears repeating, because you have a most enchanting and radiant smile.” Before Kyedra can reply, Lerial adds, “And that is neither presumptuous nor excessively flattering because you do.”
“Are you going to insist on putting words in my mouth?”
“My apologies, Kyedra.”
“That is much better … Lerial. I do like your name. It fits you.”
“As does yours you.”
“‘Kyedra’ sounds harsh.”
“I don’t think so.”
She smiles, fleetingly, before speaking again. “Enough of names. Why are you here?”
“I told you. I wanted to see you. You, not your grandfather or your mother. I’ve been reluctant to press, given that my presence seemed … to your mother … less than welcome, except as necessary to heal your grandfather.”
“Then why did you press … today?”
“Because I wanted to see you, because…” He smiles, almost saying, I think you know, before realizing just how presumptuous and condescending those words might sound. He swallows. “Because, I wanted you to know just that—that I wanted to see you.”
“You know that we do not decide our fates … or consorts.”
“That is possible, but it cannot hurt to know what we feel.”
“It could hurt very much. Look at Uncle Rham. He still loves your aunt.”
“You know that?”
“You didn’t?”
“Not until I met him.” Lerial pauses. “Will you keep something between us? Because if it doesn’t turn out, it could hurt him even more.”
“You will have to trust my judgment on that. I cannot pledge to something I don’t know.”
Lerial doesn’t hesitate. “I sent a dispatch to my father more than an eightday ago, asking for a healer for your uncle, the same healer that had healed him once before. I suggested that it would be for the best for both Cigoerne and Afrit. I also suggested that she arrive by rivercraft, since that would be faster.”
Kyedra’s mouth opens.