Chapter Eight

A Bit Of Ceremony

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The family dining room at Devratha Manor was quite large, but managed to feel intimate and cozy with its warm, wood-paneled walls hung with rich tapestries depicting noble hunting parties, the room's perimeter cluttered with centuries-old sideboards and armoires displaying delicate crystal glasses and exquisite porcelain dishes. A small but dazzling chandelier glowed warmly over a long table with ornately carved chairs for eight, with five settings placed for today's lunch.

Kazia and Kelvaran arrived to find Abrizhen sitting alone at the right of the table's head, folding his napkin into various shapes and occasionally reaching for the empty wine glass above his plate, only to put it down again in disappointment.

When he saw Kazia, he jumped up from his seat in excitement, but then caught himself as Kelvaran entered behind her, his initial smile melting away.

“Brother,” Kazia said rather stiffly, her gaze drifting over him and away as she took in the details of this once familiar room.

“Sister, you...” He cleared his throat nervously. “You're quite beautiful today. I'm glad to see you looking well.”

He moved solemnly to the chair at the left of the table's head and pulled it out.

“Lady Devratha” he said quietly, with a gentlemanly bow of his head.

Kazia froze, staring dumbly at the chair for a long moment.

This was her mother's seat, in years past. It would have belonged to Abrizhen's mother before that.

Somewhere in the recesses of her heart, a dull throb of grief tried to push its way up. Muffled by the Off-Switch, and her own determination to maintain composure, she still felt the distant ache. She lifted her eyes from the chair to Abrizhen's face.

One corner of his lips contorted, as if he were biting down on the interior. Steeling her resolve, she moved quickly to take the seat.

“Lord Meratha, if you will,” Abrizhen said acerbically, waving to the chair next to her. “We really aren't so formal at family meals, I only thought this moment called for a bit of ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” Yilina said as she sauntered through the doorway, glaring darkly at Kazia. “This halfwit is only here to make a fool of herself running after a man who doesn't want her.”

Abrizhen gave her an astonished look and snorted with laughter.

“You'll have to forgive Yilina,” he chuckled over Kazia's shoulder. “She hasn't got even the tiniest bit of self-awareness.”

Yilina sneered at him as he rounded the end of the table and pulled the chair next to his own for her. With another glare at Kazia, she lowered herself gingerly into the chair as if she were in pain.

“Am I wrong, though?” she continued. “His Highness may humor you to pretend at Lady of the House, but don't think he's forgotten what an embarrassment you've been to his family.”

Before anyone could form a reply, they were all distracted by the voice of a servant outside saying, “Your Highness...” They all rose from their seats.

“Enough of that, Yilina,” Gorvan snapped as he strode across the room and, with no ceremony at all, dropped into his seat at the head of the table. He stared at Yilina with thunder in his blue eyes, but that storm gave way as he took in her gaunt and haggard appearance, eyeing her with critical concern.

He waved an impatient hand. “Everyone sit.”

His appraising gaze turned to Kazia, but he remained silent as an army of servants flooded the room, slipping between them to fill their glasses with light wine and their plates with poached salmon and early spring vegetables. Their efficient commotion died away quickly, leaving the room abruptly quiet.

Gorvan raised his fork, and the quiet was suddenly filled with the clatter of utensils on porcelain as everyone began to eat.

“Lady Kazia, how have you fared these days?” Gorvan asked, casually conversational.

“Tediously,” Kazia answered, sparing him only a glance as she lifted a flaky bite of fish. “I'm unused to idleness, and quite eager to go to work if Master Vlais is ready for me.”

Gorvan's eyebrow quirked up.

“Eager to work with Master Vlais?” he said skeptically.

Kazia waved a dismissive hand.

“Oh, I know what you're thinking, but I've worked alongside a number of unpleasant characters in Caedra. Master Vlais is among the premier talents of our day. I'm sure I have much to learn from him.”

Gorvan hmmphed. “Well, it will be some time yet before he's ready for you. If you're bored, go to the lab here. I'm sure Yilina can find something for you to do.”

“In Kazia's lab?” Abrizhen said suddenly.

Everyone turned to him with a variety of surprised expressions.

“What, have I said something wrong?” Abrizhen continued, a caustic edge to his voice. “Do I need to cite legal code to anyone here? Kazia is this family's only Alchemist. She's of age now. Wouldn't she want to take up her rightful post? Why should a stand-in 'find something for her to do'?”

“Zhen!” Yilina said crossly. “Your Highness, she isn't fit -”

“No, you haven't said anything wrong,” Gorvan agreed with Abrizhen. As Yilina's mouth fell open in shock, he continued, “but give Yilina a few days... to ready the lab for you. Have your guards take you riding if you're restless.”

Kazia gazed across the table at Abrizhen, narrowing her eyes questioningly. He looked back at her with a very small but victorious smile. Kazia began to regret taking the Off-Switch today. It might have been worth enduring the venom of Gorvan and Yilina for a hint of what her brother was up to.

“Perhaps Abrizhen might accompany me,” she suggested.

“He'll be busy,” Gorvan answered. “Abrizhen, tomorrow night you'll take your band of good-for-nothings out, somewhere public. One of your usual haunts where you're known. Take Lord Meratha with you.”

Kelvaran, who had kept to himself in silent observation all this time, looked up sharply.

Even through the chill of the Off-Switch, Kazia startled. “Father...”

“You can't live without him for one night?” Gorvan smirked. “I have need of him. Be good.”

Kazia nodded hesitantly. “Will... Madame Vysda go along?”

“To the brothel?” Yilina cackled. “I should think not. But do enjoy yourself, Lord Meratha.”

Kazia paled. Kelvaran's cheeks reddened, and he pursed his lips nervously.

Abrizhen sighed.

“Don't worry, Kazia, I won't get him in any trouble,” he chuckled, but his eyes darkened as they turned to Kelvaran. “We'll just have a bit of... brotherly bonding.”

Kazia's face rearranged itself into an emotionless mask as she picked up a roll and tore it in half, then reached for the butter.

“I think that's an excellent idea,” she said curtly.

The dull knife in her hand swept back and forth over the bread as if she were sharpening a razor on a strop.

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