She’d combs now too, and hair pins, and a brush. Some cream for her face and hands. Moonpads, and by her reckoning she’d have a need for those soon. Little things, true enough, but it meant so much to have them in her small lidded-basket.
She dug out what she’d wear, and paused when she heard the crinkle of paper within. She couldn’t help herself really. She pulled out the note and read it again, as she had done a thousand times since she’d received it.
Warna,
The barrier has been removed. You are free to move about as you will.
Verice
Short, succinct, to the point. But in his own hand. Warna carefully folded the note, and returned it to the trunk.
She settled herself at the dressing table, and started combing her hair, working the tangles out. The noises below were louder now, the scent of kav and bread stronger. She would see to Ersal, then talk with Janella about the keep. Perhaps she would have some ideas. It promised to be a full day, full of things that needed doing.
She started to pin up her hair, humming under her breath.
All it would take to open the keep would be one legitimate reason. Something that was a need, not a want. A meeting that needed a large space, or the visit of a dignitary. Warna frowned, pins in her mouth. Weren’t there foodstuffs stored in the keep, in case of siege? Or the mice she’d seen. That might be reason enough. Mice led to rats, and that wasn’t healthy. If they could use that to open just one door, Warna was certain the rest would flow naturally. The keep would be open to all, and her work here done.
What will it look like, she wondered, not for the first time. All lit up, with candles and mage lights, those colored windows all aglow, the shattered window restored to its glory. Verice seated in the high seat, herself at his side, a feast before them and friends all around. Laughing and dancing, with his arm around her waist, twirling about—
With a cold, sick feeling, Warna looked at her hair in the mirror and realized she was trying to cover the tops of her ears.
Her hands dropped to her lap, letting the pain wash through her. Tears came unbidden, and for long moments she didn’t bother to wipe them from her face.
But after a time, she took a deep breath and removed the pins, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. She’d wear it loose today, tucked behind her ears.
Then she washed her face again, to remove the evidence of her tears.
“Narthing.”
Narthing looked up from his breakfast tray, startled to see Lord Verice standing there, fully armed and armored, his face grim. The mael had just been out at the pells, Narthing had heard him. What had brought him to the Healing Hall this early? “M’lord?” he asked.
Verice crossed to his bedside. “Look at this.”
Narthing took the open scroll, careful to keep it out of his porridge and frowned at the seal. “A message from Valltera?” he asked, working his way through the formal elven wording.
“Worse,” Verice growled. “A politely worded summons from the Coeval. And see whose attendance is required?”
“Yourself, of course,” Narthing hazarded the safe guess, then sucked in a breath as he read the words. “Lady Warna?”
Verice’s face was grim. “I’ve sent messages out, summoning my most trusted political advisors. If you’re up to it, I will see if Dominic will allow us to carry you to my chambers. If not, we will meet here to determine our response. This needs consideration.” Verice turned to go.
“And Warna?” Narthing asked. “You’ll summon her as well?”
Verice paused, his eyes hooded. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Forty
By mid-day, Warna was still wrestling with the accounts, determined to slay the beast, but Ersal was far more curious about the activities outside his office window.
“Well, something is certainly happening,” Ersal said, gazing out toward the Healing Hall. “Portals opening and closing, and messengers coming and going all morning. What could it be about?”
“Ersal,” Warna said, keeping her voice patient and kind. “These accounts will not balance themselves.” Her head was down, her eyes focused on the figures on front of her, for all that she wanted to jump up and run to the window.
“Something’s happening,” Ersal said.
“Yes,” Warna said. “Your accounts don’t balance for the last three days and they need tending.” She continued to compare the tiny numbers.
“But don’t you want to know?” Ersal asked, crossing over to plant himself back on his stool.
