The Lord-Protector's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

showing things as they were in the night.
    What about Dereka?
    An image appeared, and she looked down on a city where dark eternastone and gold glimmering stone mixed, where faint lines of green appeared as well, and where a massive aqueduct split the city.
    She’d been to Vyan, and she thought of it. Obligingly, the city square appeared, as did the square in Krost, but even the mists vanished when she tried to see Soupat or Lyterna. Finally, she stepped back from the Table. It still glowed with the unworldly purple sheen, but she could now distinguish between what she saw with her eyes and what she sensed.
    She shivered. Telling herself that it was merely the chill from the cold stone of the lower levels, she eased back out of the Table chamber, carefully glancing around before closing the door behind her. Once she had climbed the two flights of stairs and returned to her own simple room, Mykella sat on the edge of the bed.
    What had really happened?

5
    Mykella hadn’t thought she would get back to sleep, not with all the questions running through her head, but she had. With all the confused dreams, she almost wished she hadn’t, because she slept through Uleana’s first knock on her door and overslept. So she had to hurry in getting washed up on Tridi morning.
    Dressing wasn’t a problem for her, not the way it was for her two younger sisters, particularly Rachylana. As almost always, Mykella just wore black nightsilk trousers and tunic over the full-shouldered black nightsilk camisole and the matching underdrawers, with polished black boots.
    Mykella smoothed the black tunic into place, then hurried down the corridor and tried to ease into the breakfast room of the family quarters through the service pantry.
    Feranyt looked up from the head of the table, dark polished oak that had endured many Lords-Protector and their families. “Mykella…I had wondered when you might join us, especially when I heard you had gone prowling through the lower levels of the palace late last night.”
    Mykella managed a rueful smile as she took her place on the left side of the table. “I couldn’t sleep. I knew I could walk around down there safely—and quietly—without the guards saying, ‘Mistress Mykella’ every few moments, or just looking.” She looked directly across the table at Jeraxylt, seated to her father’s right. “It’s not as though it was all that quiet here, either. There were others who weren’t exactly sleeping, either.”
    Jeraxylt smiled lazily, even white teeth standing out against his tanned face and the dark blue uniform of the Southern Guards, then shrugged. “I was in bed early, and I got a very good night’s sleep.”
    Mykella lifted the mug of already-cooled tea. Jeraxylt wasn’t about to admit anything, and her father certainly wouldn’t press his son, not when they’d both been engaged in a similar fashion. She took a slow sip of the cool tea and waited to be served, since the serving platters had already been removed from the table.
    â€œYou look good in that uniform.” Salyna smiled at her older brother. “The Seltyrs’ daughters and the High Factors’ daughters think so, too.”
    â€œHow would you know, little vixen?” Jeraxylt grinned at his youngest sister.
    â€œI’m a woman, silly brother. I know, and I’m not little or a vixen.”
    Rachylana raised her left eyebrow. In addition to studying with the most skilled seamstresses in Tempre, Rachylana had pursued the skill of lifting a single eyebrow, as if such unusual talents were required of a middle daughter.
    Jeraxylt ignored the gesture.
    â€œWhat are you doing today?” Mykella asked her brother. “Playing Cadmian again?”
    â€œI’m not playing. You know that. Training isn’t play, especially for a Southern Guard.”
    â€œIt’s very hard,” Rachylana interjected. “Berenyt says