"Your journey was pleasant, I hope, Lady Marissya, Lord Dax," Queen Annoura said as they made their way through a labyrinth of halls and winding corridors. Liveried servants and richly garbed courtiers bowed as the entourage passed. "Aiyah," Dax replied. "Celieria is beautiful as always."

"All seemed peaceful," Marissya added.

"Yes, well ... Ah, here we are. A nice quiet spot for a private discussion." King Dorian led the way into a small, comfortably appointed antechamber. As soon as the door closed, Dax wove shields of Air and Spirit to seal the room and ensure privacy.

Marissya took a seat on one of the cream velvet sofas and removed her heavy veils and hat. She captured Dorian's gaze and opened up her empathic senses. "Your concern weighs heavy on your mind, bond-nephew. All is not as peaceful as it appeared on our journey, then. Tell us.”

"A minor disturbance in the north, but the Border Lords have matters in hand.”

"Disturbance?”

"Dahl'reisen," Dorian admitted. "They've been raiding a few of the small villages along the northern borders. They killed about half a dozen men last month.”

Marissya sat back. Dahl'reisen were banished Fey who had turned their backs on honor and chosen to walk the Shadowed Path. "You are certain it was dahl'reisen?”

"As certain as one can be" Dorian reached into his robes and pulled out a cloth-wrapped object. "Usually they leave no weapons and no witnesses, but this was recovered from one of the raid sites.”

Dax took the small parcel and pulled back the folds of cloth to reveal a small, shining dagger with a red-silkwrapped handle. He examined the blade and checked the marking on the pommel. "I do not recognize the name- mark, but it is a true Fey'cha. Fey rarely lose their blades. If you found this, it was most likely left deliberately—either to implicate the dahl'reisen or to issue a challenge.”

"Are there witnesses?" Marissya asked.

"Not from the attack where that Fey'cha was found, but there is an old woman who swears she saw her son murdered in his bed by the Dark Lord himself." Dorian said the last bluntly, but his sympathy skated across Marissya's senses. She stifled a flinch. The Dark Lord was a phrase originally coined to refer to the God of Shadows, but since the Mage Wars, it had been used almost exclusively to refer to Gaelen vel Serranis, Marissya's brother, the infamous dahl'reisen whose bloody vengeance for his twin sister's murder had ignited the Mage Wars. She wanted to cry out that it was not true, that her brother would not have murdered a helpless mortal in his sleep, but she could not. For the last thousand years Gaelen had lived beyond the honor of the Fey. She no longer knew what he was and was not capable of. "Is it possible to bring this woman to me that I might question her?”

"She has refused out of fear, and her Lord is bitter enough over the recent attacks that he supports her refusal.”

"Has news of these raids reached Celieria City?”

"The pamphleteers were spreading tales more than a week ago, and the newspapers began printing the story two days after that—including the bits about an eyewitness and evidence proving that dahl'reisen were behind the attacks.”

That would explain the hostility Marissya had sensed during the procession. Most Celierians considered dahl'reisen and Fey to be one and the same. If dahl'reisen were killing Celierians, the blame would fall on the Fey.

"Enough of all this doom and gloom," Dorian announced briskly. "There will be time enough for weighty discussion in the next few days. For now, tell us what happened between the Feyreisen and the Celierian girl. Is it true that he dropped out of the sky and locked himself with her in a cage of magic, then sent her home with an escort of one hundred Fey warriors?”

"It's true," Marissya confirmed. "But those tales are only part of the whole story. Rain has found his truemate.”

The king's eyes widened. "But this is excellent news.”

Marissya exchanged a look with Dax. "That remains to be seen," Dax replied. "There has never been a truemated Tairen Soul before. The bonding period is difficult at best, for any Fey man. But Rain fights the tairen in him as well. It will push him to the brink of madness. Our best hope is that the girl accepts him, and quickly."

The marching Fey warriors caused an uproar along Celieria's quiet side streets as Ellysetta, the twins, and their enormous escort made their way to the merchant class district that housed the Baristani residence. Luckily, the streets were mostly deserted, or Ellie's entourage would have caused all manner of problems. As it was, a crowd double the size of her escort followed them from the main thoroughfare, and more folk joined them as they went. Ellie's face was flaming with embarrassment long before they reached her street.

Unlike Ellie, once the twins had recovered from their initial fear, they found the attention quite entertaining. They darted to and fro, giggling when they managed to catch a warrior's eye. The Fey did not smile at their antics. They just watched them, stone-faced and gimlet-eyed, except for the brown-haired, blue-eyed warrior, who would give Lillis a tiny grin each time she stuck her little snub nose in the air to show that she still had not forgiven him for not falling prey to her earlier tears.

The warrior beside Ellie was named Belliard vel Jelani. She gathered he was quite, quite old, though his face was as unlined as that of a Celierian just leaving his twenties. It was his eyes, dark and fathomless, that showed his age. Looking into those eyes, she felt an oppressive weight and terrible sorrow, as if he had lived countless centuries without joy. He did not, she noted, look directly at her for more than a moment at a time, and his stern, studious avoidance of her gaze invited little in the way of conversation.