Excerpt: Blue Crystal (3rd draft)

Chapter Two: The Celestite Baron

Lady Wyrren Jadis de Renideo tried to dismiss feelings of illness while Ana teased her hair and twisted it to hold a hairpiece: a ram's horn to make her look part animal. Mordache occasionally were born with animalistic traits, and Ana assured her mistress that pretending to be one of them was fashionable. Wyrren chose to trust Ana's judgment. She had a talent for discerning styles, just as she had a talent for picking up gossip.

Partway through setting Wyrren's hair, Ana asked, "Do you know about Redaechyl already?"

Wyrren normally would have nodded, but the pressure on her hair required a verbal answer. "Yes." Of course she had. She knew enough not to go near that particular slave, as well.

"Yes, but do you know what he looks like?" Ana pressed. "The king collects wings, you know." When Wyrren didn't answer immediately, she pulled out another lock of hair, curled it with an iron briefly (Wyrren could feel the heat when it drew near her head), and pinned it in place. "He's got great gray wings, and tattoos on his arm, underneath his bracer. I've seen him. He's so cute, you'd never guess he's a monster. Is there anyone else that you don't know about?"

Wyrren wondered if her little stepsister ever considered the impossibility of answering a question like that. How could she name a man that she didn't know about, unless she simply lacked details?

"I wish I could go with you. I'd love to see who'd be there, and Rylan isn't good at this sort of thing. You should have seen the shoes he was trying to wear when I gave him your note. Who else... One of the justices just got caught with a minster's wife. Which one... I think it was the Keeper of the Peace."

"Poor choice."

"Oh, he can't do anything about it. The Keeper of the Peace works outside the palace, in the city. He would have been in trouble if it had been Keeper of Security. They work inside the castle. Maybe you could complain to him, about how they tackled Rylan." Ana's voice grew indignant. "He's a du. You can't do that to a du."

"You will not spread that."

"What? Why not? It's a scandal. That captain's as good as burned." Ana stepped around Wyrren and looked at her from a few angles, her good taste considering her stepsister's appearance critically. "That'll work. I wish I had more time."

"Do not speak of Rylan," Wyrren repeated. "Not yet."

"Why?" Ana said again.

Wyrren looked for a short answer. "It will only weaken us." After what the king's Redaechyl had gotten away with in this court, it was clear that the officers here would not take great offense. True, it was a guard captain committing the offense this time and not a royal favorite, but Wyrren was not in the king's favor. At best, she would receive pity. Pity implied a state of helplessness, and Wyrren knew very well that a person would become what they pretended to be.

That was not to say that she would not look for retribution for her Rylan's honor. Dinners such as these held opportunities to seek out allies. Wyrren wished that she held even a fraction of power over her face, something to move the stiff, flesh mask of a face that she wore. As it was, she might have had better luck smiling or frowning with her elbow. At least that moved when she wished it. She would simply have to trust that Rylan's fight with the secret police had not left him unsocial.

She met him in the common room. Rylan took her arm to lead her out, and two of the four king's guard posted inside her room rose to accompany them.