Out of Evenfall (BOOK 1)

Chapter 40

LAUCAN

I know she told me to focus on the Summit, but what if he truly is conspiring with any remaining Trayes. He shifted in his seat as he tried not to pour back into the paperwork, focused on the acceptance of his invitation to the palace by the dancing troupe from before. She said to show the world who we are. He lifted his head to the balcony. Weight settled on his nonexistent wings as he shuffled over to the icy pane of glass. Who we are... what does that mean? Back at his desk, he shuffled through his small bookshelf and took out one of the many lyrical poems of old Naveera, tucked between his books of Naveeran and world law, squished between proper etiquette and manners. I wonder if Hayvala read all of this. He fluttered open the pages, shifting through the Navee songs. Another important choice to make.

He snapped it shut at the sounds of footsteps outside his doors as he tucked it inside one of his fluffy inner pockets. "You may come in," he said as he redid the snowrose clasp on his front.

"Oh, I may?" Hayvala teased. Laucan switched on his heel to face her as she bowed. "I am pleased to inform you that the troupe has arrived. I know you've been excited for it since they sent the letter."

He clutched his furs. "I suppose that is one word for it." He shook his head as she came up to him. "Have you figured out anything about the loss of supplies?"

"I am still working on that," Hayvala pointed out, her teasing smile fading away into a frown. "Though, Laucan, I remember when you made the suggestion that when I pointed out it would mean a lot to the people if you did it yourself... you rejected the idea."

Laucan stiffened and shrunk into the shadows of his bookshelf. "I... You know what happens if people get... irritated," he mumbled and shook his head. "I do remember what happened the last time. Back when Father was still alive. If..." He hugged himself from the cold, frozen memory. If Ser Yokonei hadn't leaped in when he did... would me and my sister still...?

He remembered little of the Sentinel Hayvala looked up to as if he was her father instead. Silver-haired, and a Traye. "What's to say that our attempts to help them wouldn't be met with scorn? That they can't trust the help we can give them, or the person giving it."

"And leaving it to the lords is better?" Hayvala argued. "Once you send those supplies out without your eye on them, this is the sort of thing that will happen. You lose control of it, and the lords will fight among themselves and leave the rest to the bears." Hayvala raised her hand, then smiled. "But, I did not come here to argue this. You know my opinion on the matter."

Laucan nodded and found his words failing him. "So, the troupe is here?"

"They are currently practicing using the palace ribbons. I think they seldom get a chance to work with silk of such make and... legendary stories behind them," she pointed out. Laucan frowned when she turned to his fireplace, where the chakrams forged in icy flames hung on a small rack. "You always used to love your lessons, back when Magistera Titania still walked the blizzard."

"Father didn't like them."

"Well." Hayvala shrugged. "It was your choice to make, in the end. Your drive certainly impressed Magistera Titania."

"I don't know how."

"Maybe she saw something in you that you cannot see in yourself."

Laucan headed for his door, ignoring her words. "We shouldn't keep them waiting. We still have quite a lot of preparations to make before making the long trek to Whitehaven Pass while we are in a calming breath of the blizzard." He stepped past his two guards to rush down the gray, carpeted steps from his room, with Hayvala keeping his pace with ease. "If you think that the summit will help us..."