Page 33 of Ties of Frost

A bell behind the door jingled as we entered. The interior was surprisingly airy. Tables with two to six chairs around them, depending on size, were spaced throughout the room, with wide aisles between them. Only a few of them were occupied by men and women drinking tea or eating finger food. Perhaps the establishment didn’t get much business, since they didn’t feel the need to cram in seating. Green organza curtains draped from the ceiling, tied back to the staggered support beams. A long wall along the back was broken by a curtained door in the center, which doubtless led to the kitchen. A staircase occupied one back corner, and in the opposite corner stood a curious, empty square room that could be no more than four feet wide.

The curtain moved, and then a diminutive elf womanemerged—no, not short.

An elf woman in a wicker chair with wheels. A braid of golden hair fell over her maroon dress down to her waist, and she had a rosy flush in her cheeks beneath her light-beige complexion. Gold hoops and chains and dangling rubies dripped from her ears from lobes to pointed tips. Her ears weren’t as long as Kyrundar’s, though, and her earthy-brown eyes were unusually dark for a light elf. Her gaze landed on Kyrundar, and she waved with a wide grin, then returned her hands to the wheels and propelled herself forward.

“Kyr, you rascal! Six months without seeing you is entirely too long, and I was most offended you didn’t stop by on your way to the Dawning Festival.”

Kyrundar’s shoulders hitched up toward his ears. “I do apologize, Sylathria. I was traveling in the wolf clan’s lands and would have been late to Laedresh if I’d come so far out of my way.” As she stopped in front of him, he leaned down, placed his hands on both of her shoulders, and lightly kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling today?” he asked, far quieter.

Sylathria waved dismissively. “My bad leg collapsed this morning, but the pain isn’t bad. It’s just too weak today for the crutch, clearly. Hulfson tried to talk me into taking the day off, but there will be people coming through leaving Laedresh, and I can’t miss out on all that excitement.” She looked to me, and the corner of her lips curved up. “No need to stand there looking so self-conscious. Injuries happen. Sometimes they don’t heal.”

She looked pointedly at my arm. I started to reach for the bandage, as if to hide it, and decided that would look more suspicious.

But rather than asking invasive questions, she looked back to Kyrundar. “Congratulations on the Emperor’s Merit, Kyr! It’s well deserved. And would I be correct in assuming this is Zidra?”

“Goodness, yes, forgive me.” Kyrundar ducked his head, causing his silver earrings to sway. “Sylathria Graystone, this is Zidra Eilmaris. Zidra, my dear friend Sylathria.”

I inclined my head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, having the honor of serving not only two rengiri, but the co-recipients of the Merit!” Somehow, when she said it with that sincere tone and warm smile, being a co-recipient didn’t sound as much like an insult. “What will you be having? Your preferred private tea room is available, Kyr, if you like.”

“Excellent. We’ll take…” He turned to me. “How much coin do you have?”

With Sylathria watching, I couldn’t berate Kyrundar like I wanted to. And with Iskyr watching, I couldn’t lie. “Two crowns, four half-crowns, and a few copper pence.”

“Then we’ll have the full ceremonial tea and some light desserts,” Kyrundar declared. “I know the way, so don’t worry. We’ll seat ourselves.”

Only after we were on the way up the stairs and safely out of earshot did I dare ask how she would have shown us to a room upstairs.

“Oh, the little room on the opposite side from thestairs is actually an empty shaft that opens onto all three levels,” he said. “Syl uses her plant magic to manipulate vines to carry her up and down so she doesn’t have to use the stairs. It’s big enough she can move her wheeled chair up and down as well. She lives in the rooms on the third floor with her husband—that’s Hulfson Graystone. He’s a human, from Neaston.”

The revelation that Kyrundar’s friend wasmarriedalmost made me trip. The scoundrel had teased me about being jealous, all the while knowing she was married? I would have scolded him, except that would only prove that Ihadbeen jealous, and he would doubtless love that. Infuriating elvish rogue.

He led the way to a room decorated with blue organza dripping with green tassels. Blue cushions were arranged around a low table. A painting of an emerald sea surrounded by blue-toned mountains covered most of one wall. I had to admit, the atmosphere was relaxing.

Kyrundar dropped onto one of the cushions. “Syl’s father was Shuallangian,” he said, confirming my theory she was half-human. “She lived the first fifty years of her life there, which is why she loves their teas and traditions. Then her father’s eyesight failed, and he had to retire from being a stone carver, so they moved to Bryluthia. Obviously that’s where we met. Syl inherited human magecraft with an affinity for stone from her father, but her plant magic is much stronger. She mostly uses it to get around and check the quality of tea leaves. She started this teahouse while I was still at Harcos. It’s close enough to the capital that it’slively and gets a variety of visitors, but it isn’t as crowded and chaotic as Laedresh—”

“Is any of this relevant to how she can help us?” I settled onto a cushion on the opposite side of the table.

“I suppose, in a way.” Kyrundar’s happy expression faded into something almost sulky. “Sylathria knows everything, and I meaneverything. If we could gamble, I’d bet that she has heard something about Rouven. The Blooming Lotus is well known and has a wide variety of clientèle. People pass through from all over the empire. In the evenings, she hires bards and storytellers and other performers. The Blooming Lotus is an excellent locus for both disseminating and gleaning information, and Sylathria or her staff have heard every noteworthy story, whether fact or rumor.”

“Disseminating stories?” My posture went rigid. “Like tales of Kyrmaris?”

“Ye…” Pink spotted his pale cheeks, and he abruptly was very interested in unbuckling and removing the swords strapped to his back.

I crossed my arms. “So youhavebeen following me around and then selling stories to bards!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kyrundar smiled, but it was more guilty than confident. “I don’t ask for payment. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. Most rengiri tell stories about themselves. Every story I’ve told is completely true, and anyway, the bards mostly ask for additional details. They prefer the tales about events that other people have witnessed. If only one troubadour tells a story, people thinkit’s fabricated. But if she has extra, never-before-told details on a story many bards are telling, people will pay more for that. I’m helping entertainers make better wages.”

Before I could argue, Sylathria rolled into the room with a large tray balanced across the arms of her wheeled chair. It felt wrong to let her manage by herself, but Kyrundar knew her better, and he made no move to get up, so I remained seated. I didn’t want to insult her by offering help that wasn’t needed, or worse, try to help and instead make her task more difficult by interfering with her process.

Sylathria set down the tray. “Your desserts should be up by the time you’ve finished the tea ceremony.”

“Thank you,” we said in unison.

Her knowing expression as she glanced between us made me hot under the collar of my tunic and leather breastplate. She backed away in her chair before turning in a circle and rolling out.

I frowned at the items on the tray. How many cups and pots did two people need? There were two handleless teacups, oddly small given that tea drinking was meant to be the main attraction. A teapot and a large kettle sat on either side of another teacup, but this one was larger and had a lid. The tea leaves waited in a miniature oval trencher. An empty bowl to the side further confused me.

---