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Elantran when she was with the Hawks. Even when they were Barrani. When Teela broke into Barrani of
any
flavor, it meant trouble.
    “As you like,” he said quietly. He drew closer, but stopped about two feet away. He did not, however, lean against the railing.
    “You’re almost on my turf,” she said quietly.
    “
Almost
is a mortal word.” He gazed at the river, and gestured; it seemed to freeze in its bed, like sleek glass. She could see herself clearly in the momentary reflection; she could see him more clearly, and in the end, it was the fieflord she looked at. Who wouldn’t?
    “You have not come to visit,” he said quietly.
    She started to reply, and caught the words before they left her mouth, for perhaps the first time today. The fieflord was not known for his sense of humor. Or perhaps he was: He regularly killed people who offended by implying it existed at all.
    Bravery was costly in the fiefs. Defiance was more painful, but not ultimately more costly.
    “No,” she said when she could talk. “I haven’t.”
    Before she could move, he reached out to touch her cheek, his fingers caressing the skin that bore his mark. He did not touch any other part of her face, but he didn’t have to – his meaning, in the gesture, was plain.
    “You could remove it,” she told him softly.
    “Yes, I could. But not without cost.” His smile was unsettling. “You speak my name when you sleep,” he said softly. “My true name. And there is no way to avoid hearing it – not for me.”
    “I can’t speak it,” she said, something like fear informing the words.
    “I know. I believe you did try when Tiamaris asked.”
    “I tried. Once.”
    “What did he hear?”
    “Nothing.”
    “But I heard it,” he said softly.
    “You were in Castle Nightshade.”
    His brow rose. “Yes,” he said, and it seemed there was caution in the affirmation. “I was.”
    “Why did you – why are you here?”
    His eyes shifted in color. It was sudden, but it was entirely unexpected; nothing Barrani did could be expected, almost by definition. You just couldn’t trust them, and predictability implied a certain belief in routine. “The castelord has called the High Court,” he said quietly. The wrong type of quiet.
    “I… know.”
    “Anteela will be there.”
    “An – oh. Teela.” She remembered that Lord Evarrim had called Teela that, what seemed like another lifetime ago. “She’s gone. But none of the other Barrani are.”
    “They wouldn’t be. None of the other Barrani, as you so casually put it, withdrew from the Lord’s Court to pursue the idle life of a… Hawk.”
    “She’s a – ”
    “In Elantran, you would call her Lady Anteela,” he said, using the word
Lady
with some distaste. “If she desired it. She does not.”
    “So she left.”
    His smile was cold. “The Hawks are trained to observe, are they not?”
    “They are.”
    “Then the training given is poor indeed.”
    “We like to observe fact.”
    “Fact, as you so quaintly put it, is something that is rarely understood if it is observed with no understanding of context. She withdrew from Court. Her absence was noted. It was not, however, appreciated.”
    She didn’t ask him how he knew.
    “Wise,” he told her. “Understand, Kaylin Neya, that you will be at the heart of many discussions when the Court convenes.”
    “And that will be?”
    “When the moon is full,” he replied. “And silver.”
    “Which moon?”
    “There is only one that counts.”
    She didn’t ask. As far as she was concerned, there were two. “Why are you here?” she said again.
    “I am unwilling to risk you in the games that will no doubt unfold. You are too ignorant of our customs.”
    “You’re outcaste,” she said without thinking. “They’re not your customs anymore.” She caught up with her flapping mouth and shut it hard enough to hear – and feel – her teeth snap.
    His eyes were now a blue that was sapphire. Midnight sapphire. “Come,” he said,