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blurred, although the general system was still in place.
                Sariana wrinkled her nose in disapproval as she reminded herself that in the west matters had actually gotten to the point where marriages across class lines were common. Romantic liaisons and outright illicit affairs between people of different social classes were even more common. Sariana could only shake her head over the faltering social structure.

                It wasn't that her own people were so much more virtuous. They weren't. But they had the good sense and the social awareness to keep their affairs, like their marriages, within class boundaries.
                The changes in the social system on the western continent had come as quite a shock to the easterners when both groups had finally rediscovered each other a few years before.

                It was ironic that it had been a western invention, the fast, sleek windrigger sailing ships, that had made that rediscovery possible. Contact between the descendants of the original colonists was finally reestablished, but things had changed. Each group had managed to survive without the other.
                That was a lesson that would not soon be forgotten by either contingent. It was clear to the people of each continent that, contrary to the predictions of the social philosophers, they really didn't need each other. Both groups tended to be equally arrogant and regard the other group as slightly less advanced and certainly less sophisticated than itself. Trade had been established but socially there was still very little mingling. It was one thing for a member of an eastern continent clan, to trade with someone from a western clan, quite another to contemplate marriage into that clan. One had to maintain one's social standards, even if one occasionally found the clever little gadgets devised by the westerners useful or intriguing.

                It was amazing how little easterners knew about westerners, Sariana thought. Take this business of the west having created a whole new social class called Shields. It was a typical piece of western inventiveness. The original social philosophers would have been appalled.
                Sariana stared gloomily out the high arched windows that opened onto a garden of vivid flowers, wondering how she had gotten herself into such a predicament.

                She was still contemplating her fate when the door to her office swung open without any warning. Sariana didn't swivel around in her chair to see who was standing in the doorway. Her instincts already told her. A ripple of awareness went through her nerve endings and she gritted her teeth.
                "The luck of the day to you, Gryph Chassyn," she murmured. Ritualistic greetings and manners were useful to fall back on when one was faced with potential disaster, she decided. Above all else, she must maintain control of this situation.

                "Luck to you, lady," Gryph said carelessly. He came silently into the room, the heels of his boots making absolutely no noise on the marble floor. It was a neat trick.

                "You might as well turn around and face me," he added dryly. "I've come to talk business with you. Business is your specialty, I'm told. I believe we have a few matters to discuss before I undertake the task of finding the Avylyns' precious prisma cutter. I decided it would be much easier if you and I talked about those matters without any Avylyns present."

                Sariana took a firm grip on herself and bravely swung around to confront him. The morning light streaming through the large, arching windows did not alter the impressions she had gotten the night before. If anything the Shield appeared more formidable man he had the previous evening. Of course, she reminded herself, he was also no longer suffering from the effects of Aunt Perla's hypnotic