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looked at Father. “Excellent lamb, Chenkyr. Crisped just right, and I can’t say that I’ve had better new potatoes in a long time.”
    After that, conversation stayed limited to food, the weather, the harvest, and general observations about just how irrational the Caenenans were withtheir dualogic god. Dessert was a solid apple and raisin cobbler, followed by brandy.
    When both the other couples had left, while we were waiting for Charlsyn to bring the coach, I turned to Father. “I know you’ve always been close to Ferdinand, but why did you decide to invite Veblynt? He’s nice enough, but I didn’t realize that you were that close.”
    Father stiffened, as he always did when I asked a question he didn’t like. “I just did. Besides, he hasn’t been buying the offcasts as much as he once was.”
    “Dear . . .” Mother interjected, “wasn’t it Ferdinand’s idea? Didn’t he say that it had been too long . . . or something like that?”
    “Oh . . . that. He also said something about the fact that Veblynt had contacts, and that they might be useful if the Council had to order more uniforms and cloth goods.”
    “That poor Eliesa,” Mother said. “I feel for her.”
    I wasn’t sure whether I did or not, not after my brief dance with Iryela at the Council’s Harvest Ball. I also had the feeling she was far more closely related to Iryela than she was saying.
    At that moment, Charlsyn pulled the coach under the portico, and I eased the front door fully open, taking Seliora’s arm.
    “Will we see you two next week?” asked Mother.
    “No. We’re having dinner with her family and friends next Samedi. I don’t know about Solayi yet.”
    “Thank you so much,” Seliora said. “The dinner was lovely, and you both have been so warm and kind.”
    “You’re very good for Rhenn, dear,” Mother said. “I’ve never seen him so happy.”
    “He’s very good to me. Thank you for a charming evening.”
    The warmth of her words sent a chill up my spine that lasted until we were in the coach and headed back to NordEste Design. The glass windows chattered in their frames with a gust of wind that foreshadowed the coming cooler winds of fall.
    “What did you think of Veblynt?” I asked Seliora.
    “He’s definitely the son of a ruined High Holder, and he won’t forget it. He doesn’t like Ryel. He’d be more than pleased if you did in Ryel, but then he’d try to have your throat cut.”
    “No . . . he’d use me, and find some way to have me vanish without a trace. He still thinks of himself as a High Holder.”
    “You’re right.” Seliora nodded. “She’s not much better, either.” She smiledonce more in the dimness of the coach. “That was a nice touch with the comparison to Iryela. You scared her.”
    I hadn’t seen that, but I trusted Seliora’s feelings about such things. I didn’t understand what role Ferdinand was playing, especially if he’d been the one to suggest that Father invite Veblynt, unless he had a grudge against the man . . . or unless the suggestion was a warning to Father, who tended not to accept words of warning from others. I’d have to see what Master Dichartyn had to say about Veblynt, if he had anything at all to offer. For the moment, there was little enough I could do, except enjoy the little time left with Seliora.
    “Next Samedi?”
    “Fourth glass.” Seliora grinned. “You’ll have to put up with my family and their form of maneuvering.”
    I had the feeling that would be far less stressful, but I didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, I put my arms around Seliora for the rest of the coach ride to NordEste Design.
    She didn’t object. In fact, she had the same thought.

One of the drawbacks to becoming a master, which Master Dichartyn had not been slow to point out, was that I had to take my turn as the duty master for the Collegium every so often on a Solayi—and this Solayi morning was my first duty. Because it was, Master Draffyd, who had