"No, please, sir," Isana said. "Don't get up."
"Nonsense," Sir Cyril said. He swept into a restrained bow. "It's not often I entertain a celebrity."
She shook her head wryly and replied with a simple curtsey. "Hardly that."
"I disagree," Cyril said, sitting again. He let out an almost-inaudible sigh of relief as he took the weight off of his leg. "I've gotten several letters mentioning that you'd favorably impressed many of the Realm's Citizenry, during your abolition campaign."
"As of yet, no laws have been passed," she said, her voice dry. "It's been two years. I can hardly call that impressive."
"Big change takes time," Cyril replied, his tone a polite disagreement. "And the war has certainly been"-he glanced at his leg and flashed a quick, wry grin at Isana-"a distraction."
"Certainly that," she agreed.
"Even leaving such matters aside, this relief column you organized is a rare thing," he continued. "It's already saving lives."
She shook her head. "Any number of people could have done what I have."
"But they didn't," Cyril said. "You did."
"Someone had to."
He tilted his head and studied her for a moment, then shrugged, and said, "Someone should have. It isn't the same thing."
Isana waved a hand. "Sir Cyril, I hope you don't think I'm rude for saying this. But I can't imagine why you sent for me."
He gave her a steady look, and his speculative gaze was intense enough that she could almost feel it on her skin. "Can't you?" he asked.
Isana sighed. "Honestly, I can't. I was packing to leave, in fact. So, Sir Cyril, I ask you again. Why am I here?"
Cyril's eyebrows went up. "This is somewhat disappointing." He offered her a whimsical smile. "I was hoping you would tell me." He raised his voice, and called, "Galen! Send him in, please!"
The door opened a moment later, and a tall man in a fine Legion-issue dress tunic entered the-
Tavi entered the room, she corrected herself. His green eyes fell on her, and his step slowed in hesitation for just a moment. She felt a surge of emotion from him, so mixed and confused that she hardly knew what to make of it, other than to sense a good deal of anger mixed through it all, unless it was humiliation or-
Great furies.
Araris had told him.
Isana stared at Tavi for a second, meeting his gaze. He nodded to her, and said, "Excuse me." As he did, the fountain of emotion began to dwindle, until there was nothing more coming from him. He had been able to hide his feelings from her since he'd been eleven years old. It had always made her a little proud of him-as well as exasperated. He'd been entirely too... creatively energetic, at that age. She'd needed every advantage she could get to stay a step ahead of his mischief and-
And they were not alone, she reminded herself. She glanced aside at Cyril, then rose, politely, offering another curtsey to Tavi, precisely as she had to Cyril. "Good morning, Captain."
Tavi smiled at her and inclined his head. "Steadholder. Thank you for coming. And thank you for seeing me, Sir Cyril."
Isana tilted her head. "Why aren't you with your Legion, Captain?"
"Mmmm," Cyril said. "I was wondering the same thing myself. Nalus's letter was painfully vague."
"I've been arrested and charged with treason, Steadholder," Tavi replied cheerfully. "They sent me back here in irons, though Sir Cyril was kind enough to accept my parole and have them stricken." He held up his wrists, each of them ringed with bruises and small cuts.
Isana blinked for a moment and fought to keep herself from gasping, or letting out a cry of distress. Not in front of Sir Cyril.
"Treason," Cyril said, sighing. "What happened out there?"
"Long story," Tavi said. He put a hand on the chair Isana had been sitting in, holding it for her. "Steadholder. Shall we sit?"
Isana frowned gently at him, trying to understand what was behind his expression-but he was closed to her.
Yes. She'd known him that well, at least. He'd reacted just as she feared he would.
Crows take Araris, she thought quietly, sadly. But not until after they've taken me. And the stives who made it necessary to take every measure in reach to protect him-including lying to him.
Araris had been right, of course. Tavi had deserved to know. But she had wanted to put it off for just one more day, and now...
Sometimes it felt like everything she turned her hand to withered and died. It was ridiculous, of course. Not everything had. Her steadholt was prospering, after all. The relief column had been a success. Perhaps it was only when her heart was involved that she had such ruinous bad fortune.
Or, she thought, ruinously had judgment. Credit where credit is due.
They all sat down. Cyril settled in to listen to Tavi, one elbow on the desk, his fist supporting his chin. "This should be interesting."
Tavi leaned back in his chair and somehow managed to look lazily confident even while in a relaxed slouch, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Then he started talking.
It didn't take Isana long to realize that Tavi was saying more than he probably should have about the motivations and twisted loyalties behind the events of the past several days-which is to say that he was being completely open and honest.
"Let me get this straight," Cyril said, when Tavi paused for breath. "After Amos lost many of his own Knights Aeris, precisely as we warned him he would, you then bailed his men out of the trouble he'd bought them."
"You should have heard what was going around the Guard camps before I left," Tavi said, with another grin. Isana had never seen the expression on Tavi's face, but it had been common enough on his father's. Septimus had grinned at frustration and pain, too. "According to the Guard, I waited overly long to help, so that I could play the hero and rub their noses in their inexperience."
Cyril snorted. "Arnos has always known how to play a crowd. After you did that, he ordered you to execute the prisoners. You refused the order, and he had you arrested."
"Not exactly," Tavi said. "I was still stalling carrying the order out. I, ah, had the opportunity for a rendezvous with a representative from the Canim. Arnos caught me after and leveled the treason charges. He refused to rescind the execution order, by the way."
"Executing civilians? Families?" Isana heard herself say. "What kind of madness is that?"
"An increasingly common one, unfortunately," Cyril said soberly. "All this ambition being brewed with self-interest under increasing amounts of pressure." He shook his head and turned back to Tavi. "I assume he was holding them against your good behavior."