“When I founded this academy, I vowed to guide it for a century, no more. And here, 153 years later, I still find myself dragged back into things.”
“We regret the intrusion, Lord Raloren,” said Sephi.
He waved his hands. “Oh, it is quite all right. If you deal with an old man, you have to allow him his gripes and quirks. Please, sit.”
“You have a reputation,” I said. “The principles of this institution… the words on the mosaic.”
Sephi sighed. “We did not know who else to go to.”
Lord Raloren rested his chin on tented hands. “Not certain if ‘Enlightenment, Integrity, Egality’ are just empty words, are you?”
“Wedidn’t say that,” I blurted.
He frowned. “In a way, they are. It is up to people to make them more. Now, the name Barynor Faexalim certainly caught my attention.”
Sephi handed him the journal, explained the events, elaborating on certain passages within it, families whose names might be tarnished.
“You know, I met Barynor on a few occasions. Enthusiastic fellow. Wicked sense of humor as well. I suppose he needed it, though, seeing what he did, knowing what he did, and having to keep a level head and perform his duty day after day.” He leaned back in his chair. “Ironic that a Melandrach elf and a provincial human—”
“Mister Thistlewood isnota provincial—”
Lord Raloren raised both hands. “Poor choice of words on my part. But your reaction proves a point. Heisfrom a small town on the former frontier. It is a fact. But it doesn’t have to be a judgment. Your journal contains facts. It is up topeopleto guide judgments.”
“So you intend to…” Sephi’s voice faltered.
“I intend to do nothing.” He gazed solemnly.
My gut sank.
I glanced at her. Took her hand in mine. Decorum be damned.
“I will, however,” said Lord Raloren, “affordyouthe opportunity to do something. The journal alone is merely a seed. You must grow it intosomething greater. I have connections at the Halamar Herald. You two will jointly write a story. Each week, a new chapter. Be truthful, but be tactful. Tell a story to inspire, not just defame. There are many from the time of the Empire who could afford to be knocked down a peg. Yet there are others whose courage and deeds have gone unrecognized for far too long. You may interview me from time to time if there are gaps in the journal. I am willing to elaborate where I am able. What do you say?”
As Sephi and I glanced at each other, she squeezed my hand, reminding me that I still held hers.
She nodded.
I nodded.
“I had rather expected to be done with the whole affair one way or another,” she said. “And it appears we will both become more deeply entangled.”
Lord Raloren nodded. “That is the nature of life, I fear. It is always far more messy than we would wish.”
“I’d like to point out that neither of us are skilled storytellers,” I said.
He smiled, “Rumor has it you both attend an institute of learning. And a rather good one, if I do say so myself.”
Chapter Seventeen
My heart leaped as a flash of green caught my eye from across the grand ballroom. I stood from the long plush settee to see if it was her, realizing I was boxed in on one side by Brenda, the other by Cleggs, Yoi, and Dion. Objectively, it had been an enjoyable evening. The hall was lavish, with a broad dance floor in front of a raised stage where several bands alternated styles of music, including an all vocal quartet of inus. The ceiling, three stories up, was supported by marble columns bedecked with colorful magic glow lamps and chandeliers that spun in time to the music. We’d chatted, drank, snacked on platters of figs or cheeses or cubes of fresh bread, danced when a song was right. Truly a magical setting.
Yet I couldn’t enjoy the winter ball without the company of a certain person, a person whose arrival I’d awaited all evening. I waved to catch her attention.
Sephi glided through the crowd, her ankle-length sleeveless dress shimmering iridescent green with every long stride. She smiled at me before addressingBrenda. “I do not wish to trouble you, but I would appreciate the seat next to Mister Thistlewood.”
“You let our boy Theo wait half the night for you.” Brenda remained seated, her tone terse, though not antagonistic.
I hoped they would see eye to eye one day, but I couldn’t force it. And both were protective of me in their own way.
