Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

14

Mhera had not expected her malady to be of interest to so many people. When she was called the following afternoon to attend upon the emperor, she expected to see her uncle in confidence. When she and Gella arrived, however, there was a whole group of people assembled in the council chamber.

Gella spoke softly from just behind Mhera as the lady stopped in the doorway. "I spoke with His Grace early this morning, my lady, but I did not expect an inquisition. Posture."

It was just like Gella to offer half an apology punctuated with a reminder of decorum. Mhera straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, sinking into a deep curtsy. She sensed rather than saw Gella mimic the motion behind her. While Mhera may have been less formal with her uncle in private, there were others here and she must observe courtly manners. "Your Grace, I await your pleasure."

Korvan was seated at the head of his council chamber in a chair nearly as tall and elegant as he was. He rose, causing everyone seated at the table to stand as well, and crossed the room. When he came to Mhera, he reached out to her. "Rise, child."

Mhera placed her cold hand into Korvan's warm fingers, smiling gratefully at him as she straightened. Over the years since the tragic loss of both his wife and his son in close succession, Korvan had regained some of the color and vigor he had lost, but there were creases in his handsome face that would never go away. Mhera could see the mark of sadness in his features even through his smile.

Today, he was dressed with his usual austere refinement. The only adornment he wore was the pin that held his cravat in place; it was shaped like a golden rose. As Korvan guided her to a seat at the council table, she noted a certain tautness in his manner and took it to be worry. She felt a flood of affection for the man.

All the people present in the room remained on their feet around the council table. There were a few faces Mhera knew, and more she did not. Yorek, the portly, mottle-pated man who served as Korvan's chief councilor, stood directly to the emperor's left. He nodded to Mhera respectfully. Next to him was an unexpected, but welcome sight: the lorekeeper, Eovin, whose eyes had never lost their kindness. Further down the table was Physicker Naelis, a woman who radiated good health and good humor. Her badge of office was a flat-topped cap, free of adornment, in vibrant green. But the other three people, Mhera did not know.

"My lady," said Yorek, "Allow me to introduce Father Passin and Mother Dalla." He gestured at a man and a young woman, both dressed in white robes with bands of lavender running from the high necklines down to the hems: a priest and a priestess of Zanara. Mhera studied their faces and thought she may have seen them in the Temple, although there were so many priests, it was hard to recall.

"And Archmage Jaeron," Yorek continued, gesturing now to a man at the end of the table. This stranger was gaunt, with hair falling in wiry gray waves to his shoulders; his eyes were black, deep-set under his brows in a face creased with age, and his grim mouth did not seem to have the capacity to smile. He held a staff tipped with a stone orb the color of blood. Mhera had never met a mage before, and, seeing him, she wished she had gone her whole life without the pleasure.

Mhera grasped for something to say to these three strangers. Uncertainty and embarrassment warmed her cheeks. At a loss, she settled for a nod of respect in their general direction. Korvan had taken his place at the head of the table again. He sat down, thereby permitting those assembled to sit as well.

Mhera slid into her seat, grateful for the safe, familiar presence of Madam Gella at her side.

"We have come together today to speak of your affliction, Lady Mhera," Emperor Korvan said.

Mhera felt sick. She had known this, of course, but why so many people? Why the strangers? She pressed her sweaty palms to her thighs underneath the table, grasping her skirt in her fingers and wishing she had kept her peace. If she hadn't told Gella the truth, this would not be happening. "I am grateful for your concern and interest, Your Grace."