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“Oh, aye, I’ll be right endeared to peace, once I can afford it. But you don’t become prosperous without a sword.”
“On the contrary, if prosperity were already at hand, you would not need a sword to procure it.”
“You’d still need one to keep the next greedy lout from taking all that fine peace and prosperity from you.”
“But if he too were prosperous—”
“Well, he would want to become more so, wouldn’t he?”
Anger stirred in Cassia’s aura. “For some men, there is no such thing as enough. They never stop.”
“I do not doubt it, Lady Cassia,” Lio said, “but as a devotee of peace, I must hold there is another way than the sword to stop them.”
Lord Severin shook his head. “You have seen for yourself what talk of peace means to heart hunters. How is a man to meet them, if not with a sword?”
“Hmm.” Lio raised his eyebrows in Mak’s direction. “Perhaps you could rely on the Stand to intervene with magic—and fists.”
“A Tenebran warrior relies on no one but himself and his sword,” Lord Gaius said.
Cassia turned away. “Perhaps if all of you had listened to your mothers, none of you would have ended up on the battlefield.”
“Are you taking the Hesperines’ side?” Lord Adrogan demanded.
“I am taking the side of my sex.” Cassia ran her finger around a bronze circlet. “Imagine what Tenebra might have one day become under the gentle hand of a queen.”
Benedict set down one of Mak’s knives a little too hard.
“Well, that concludes our visit to the smithing pavilion.” Lio made for the exit. “Thank you for the demonstration, Cousin. Won’t you join us on our way through the fair?”
Mak had filed right through the handle of the tankard. He cast his work aside and stood up. “By all means.”
Lio and Mak hastened Cassia and the embassy away from the scene of the debate. They wound deeper into the grounds and nearer House Timarete, whose elusive halls peeked at them from the distance between glades and groves.
When fire glimmered at them through the night, Lio no longer needed to lead the Tenebrans. They followed the flame to Xandra’s pavilion. Braziers flanked the entrance and burned within, where she waited in a cocoon of heat. She gestured at the table before her. One tray held silkworm eggs, another squirming larvae laying waste to mulberry leaves, a third a happy crew of adult moths frantically mating with one another. Benedict blushed and looked away.
“Welcome to the Sericulturalists’ Circle,” Xandra said. “We will give you a tour of the silk trade, starting with the egg and ending with the fabric. Allow me to demonstrate Orthros’s innovations in silk making, which make it possible for the worms to become moths and live out their natural lives, rather than be killed for their cocoons.”
Their journey through metamorphosis, spinning, dyeing, and weaving ended at the grand pavilion of Lio’s Ritual mother. Kassandra had brought her great loom, an embodiment of her role in her craft and Orthros itself, all the way from her house. She sat on a cushion at the ancient loom, her locked hair trailing down her back and around her on the carpet. Her dark russet hands moved with such grace and speed that the delicate threads of silk seemed to transform by magic. The fabric came into being before her.
Upon their approach, she did not pause her work, only looked up and smiled in welcome. “Come, my dears. Bring your guests to join me.”
Lio and Xandra bent to kiss their Ritual mother on the cheek and, together with Mak, seated themselves around Kassandra on silk cushions. The mortals sank onto the other pillows scattered about, gazing as if mesmerized at her hands working the loom.
But Cassia looked across the pavilion. Lio followed her gaze and shared in her surprise. The Cheran mages were already here. They sat silently together on the perimeter of the pavilion, watching Kassandra.
The knights and lords had hardly sat down when Lord Adrogan leapt to his feet again. “I’ve seen enough.” He stared at the loom for an instant longer, then turned on his heel and departed the pavilion.
Cassia watched him go, her aura betraying the dismay that did not show on her face. “We crave your pardon, Elder Firstblood Kassandra. Please forgive Lord Adrogan’s rudeness.”
“He is responsible for his own deeds, and you are not obligated to make excuses for him.” Kassandra looked around the gathering. “You are all free to wander the fair as you desire. My silk threads do not shackle you in my company.”
Benedict tore his gaze from the loom. “Thank you for the demonstration, Elder Firstblood. If you will excuse me, I…” He cleared his throat and stood, offering his arm to Cassia.
Cassia shook her head slightly. “I wish to see how the fabric is made.”
Benedict did not withdraw his arm. “Lady Cassia, if you will please leave with me.”
Kassandra smiled at Cassia. “Men fear the weaving room, don’t they, Lady Cassia? But you and I know better.”
