Page 43 of Cast in Conflict

Helen cleared her throat. “I believe we are clear to move to the dining room. We will have a very early breakfast.”

No one wanted to claim credit for the eventual outcome of the first attempt at discussion. Kaylin didn’t blame them. Maybe she was being unfair, but the two people who had shocked her the most were Teela and Emmerian. She would have understood if the cohort had drawn swords, either singly or collectively, but none of the cohort were armed with Teela’s sword. Teela knew what it meant; she knew why it had been created.

She understood what had set Bellusdeo’s teeth on edge; Shadow—to Sedarias—was pragmatically irrelevant to her concerns. It was not, and would never be, irrelevant to Bellusdeo. Bellusdeo losing her temper, given the loss of her entire world to Shadow, also made sense.

Kaylin wanted to speak with Emmerian.

“I think that would be wise, dear,” Helen said. She had ditched the armor, but her eyes remained the color-flecked obsidian that Kaylin disliked.

Emmerian, in indigo armor, turned at the sound of Helen’s voice. No doubt he heard what Kaylin didn’t; Helen was capable of speaking to individuals in a way no eavesdroppers could hear. He turned to Kaylin. His eyes were red. No surprise there.

“Can you keep things more or less civil until we’re done?” Kaylin whispered to Mandoran.

“Why me? You have no idea what kind of mood Sedarias is in.”

“I can guess. Bellusdeo’s only marginally better. I’m not sure this is an agree-to-disagree discussion—but it has to be.”

Mandoran nodded.

Bellusdeo, for her part, glanced once at Emmerian; her eyes were flecked with hints of orange in a sea of red. Of the two, it was Emmerian who was angriest. Or most worried. The colors indicated good moods and bad moods, but the underlying reasons for either were left as an exercise for the observer.

“I will commit,” the golden Dragon said, “to not burning any part of Helen down.”

Helen ushered people into the dining room, leaving Kaylin and Emmerian in the hall. Kaylin then headed toward the parlor, wondering how large it would be this time.

She waited until the door closed before she faced the red-eyed Dragon head-on. “What were you thinking, exactly? Helen says you burned down a third of the house. Or tried.”

To her surprise, Emmerian shrugged. “It was not my intent to harm Helen; I did not believe—and do not believe—that I could. Not with a cursory breath.”

“I don’t think she let you in so you could set things on fire.” Kaylin waited until Emmerian took a seat; the parlor itself was a small, cozy room, the table between them both high and small.

“No, dear, I did not.”

“Why did you, as the corporal put it, let me in?”

“You are generally rational, objective, and pragmatic. I had hoped that your presence might calm Bellusdeo.”

Emmerian bowed his head. He left it in the bent position, hands in his lap palm-down, as if he were studying them.

“She’s going to be angry,” Kaylin said, her tone softening.

“I am aware of that. She is angry now.”

“So you thought it would be better if she were angry at you?”

He raised his head; his eyes had shifted, finally, from blood red to a red with orange bits that was the usual indicator of Dragon anger. Or at least Dragon anger when it was under control and not the driver.

“No. Thinking was not part of my actions. I am familiar with the cohort on paper; I have never seen them in action.”

“Bellusdeo has.”

He nodded. “I have no other explanation to offer. For what it’s worth, you have my genuine apology. I did not intend—” He stopped. “You are correct. Bellusdeo has lived in the same environs as the cohort. I should not have interfered.”

“Did you think they were going to kill her?”

“I told you, Corporal: I did not think. Yes, on some visceral level, I believed she was in danger. I will tender my apologies to Bellusdeo, and perhaps I will assign less...draconic observers in future.”

Kaylin wasn’t certain the Emperor would agree.

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