Forcing Brandin and the entire Palm to respond to... Forcing Brandin and the entire Palm to respond to his tuneSeizing control again after a winter of being impacted upon in all those trivial, disconcerting, cumulative waysShaping events so that Quileia would have no choice but to seek him out, so that back home in the Empire they could not mistake his power, the vigor of his will, the glory of his conquests
That was how he was supposed to feelHow he had indeed briefly felt the morning he'd heard that Brandin had abdicated in YgrathWhen he'd ordered his three armies north to the border of Senzio
But something had changed since that day and it was more than just the presence of opposition now waiting in the Bay of FarsaroThere was something else, something so vague and undefined he couldn't even talk about it, even if he'd had anyone to talk to, couldn't even pin it down, but it was there, nagging at him like an old wound in rain
Alberico of Barbadior had not got to where he was, achieved this power base from which a thrust for the Tiara was imminent, without subtlety and thoughtfulness, without learning to trust his instincts
And his instincts
cartier tank watch told him, here on the border, with his captains and his spies and his emissary in Senzio literally begging him to march, that something was wrong
That he was not calling the tuneSomehow, someone else was guiding the dangerous steps of this danceHe had truly no idea who it could be, but the feeling was there each morning when he woke and it would not be shaken offNeither would it come clear for him under the spring sun, in that border meadow bright with the banners of Barbadior, with irises and asphodels, and fragrant with the scent of the surrounding pines
So he waited, praying to his gods for word of a death back home, agonizingly aware that the world might soon be laughing at him if he drew back, knowing, as spies kept hastening south in relays, that Brandin was getting stronger in Farsaro every day, but held there on the border by his craftiness, his instinct for survival, by that ache of doubtWaiting for something to come clear
Refusing, as the days slipped past, to dance to what might be someone else's tune, however seductively the hidden pipes might play
She was numbingly afraidThis was worse,
chloe black chloe black infinitely worse than the bridge in TregeaThere she had embraced and accepted danger because there was more than a hope of surviving the leapIt had been only water down below, however frigid it might be, and there had been friends waiting in the darkness around the bend to claim her from the river and chafe her back to life
Tonight was differentCatriana realized with dismay that her hands were shakingShe stopped in the shadows of a lane to try to steady herself
She reached up nervously to adjust her hair under the dark hood, fingering the jeweled black comb she'd set in itOn the ship coming here Alais, who had said she was used to doing so for her sisters, had evened and shaped her original swift cropping on the floor of the shop in TregeaCatriana knew her appearance was perfectly acceptable now, more than that, actually, if the reactions of men in Senzio these past days meant anything
And they had to mean somethingFor that was what had brought her out here in the darkness alone, pressed against a rough stone wall in a lane, waiting now for a noisy swarm of revelers to pass by in the street
white chanel watch ceramic before herThis was a better part of town, so near the castle, but there was no truly safe quarter of Senzio for a woman alone in the streets at night
She wasn't out here for safety though, which is why none of the others knew where she wasThey would never have let her comeNor would she, being honest with herself, have knowingly let any of them undertake anything like thisShe was under no illusions
All afternoon, walking through the market with Devin and Rovigo and Alais, she had been shaping this plan and remembering her motherThat single candle always lit at sunset on the first of the Ember DaysDevin's father had done the same thing, she remembered him sayingPride, he'd thought it was: withholding something from the Triad because of what they had allowed to happenHer mother wasn't a proud woman, but neither had she permitted herself to forget
Tonight Catriana saw herself as being like one of her mother's forbidden candles on those Ember Nights while all the rest of the world lay shrouded in darknessShe was a small flame, exactly like those candles; one that would not last the night, but one that, if
gucci hobo the Triad had any love at all for her, might shape a conflagration before she went out
The drunken revelers finally staggered by, heading in the direction of the harbor tavernsShe waited another moment and then, muffled in her hood, went quickly into the street, keeping to the side of it and started the other way
It would be much better, she thought, if she could somehow make her hands be still and slow her racing heartShe should have had a glass of wine back at Solinghi's before slipping away, using the outside back stairs so that none of the others would see herShe'd sent Alais down to dinner alone, pleading a woman's illness, promising to follow soon if she could
She had lied so easily, had even managed a reassuring smileThen Alais was gone and she was alone, realizing in that precise instant, as the room door gently closed, that she would never see any of the others again
In the street she shut her eyes, feeling suddenly unsteady; she put her hand on a shop-front for support, drawing deep breaths of the night airThere were tainflowers not far away, and the unmistakable fragrance of sejoia
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