[House Veyrath — Courtyard — Evening]
The evening sun descended behind the sandstone walls of House Veyrath, painting the courtyard in shades of amber and gold. The scent of cedarwood drifted through the air, mingling with the fragrance of blooming desert lilies. A fountain murmured beneath the carved stone arches, its water catching the last rays of sunlight.
It was, by all accounts, a peaceful evening.
Azram Vaerun Veyrath sat upon the upper diwan, one leg crossed over the other, reviewing a stack of parchment reports. Assistant Ravian stood beside him, presenting another document whenever his master finished the previous one.
And on the lower diwan lay Seyra.
Her little body was sprawled across the cushions like a princess who had personally conquered the concept of productivity and sentenced it to death. One arm dangled over the edge, one foot rested on a pillow, and her face was half-buried in a cushion.
She had spent the afternoon attending lessons, survived etiquette, and had endured history. She had listened to adults speak for hours, so she deserved compensation.
Preferably in the form of doing absolutely nothing.
Vaerun turned a page; without looking up, he asked, "How are your lessons progressing?"
Seyra lifted her head just enough to reveal one violet eye.
"Annoying."
Ravian’s hand paused over the documents.
Vaerun continued reading. "That is not an answer."
"It is an honest answer, Papa. You should encourage honesty in your daughter."
"I do."
"Then I shall elaborate. The lessons are annoying, the chairs are uncomfortable, and apparently, there are seventeen different ways to greet a noble without accidentally starting a blood feud."
"Only seventeen?"
Seyra lifted her head completely.
"Papa, please don’t joke about my suffering."
"I would never."
"You are doing it right now."
Vaerun turned another page. "Then I shall take your suffering into consideration."
"Wonderful. May I stop attending lessons?"
"No."
Seyra dropped her face into the cushion.
"Cruelty. Absolute cruelty, and here I thought I had been adopted into a loving household."
Ravian lowered his head; his shoulders shook once. Vaerun shot a glance at him, and Ravian went shut.
Vaerun set aside the parchment. "How is the High Priest?"
At once, Seyra lifted her head, her exhaustion vanished, and her eyes brightened as a smile crept across her face.
"The High Priest is quite handsome."
. . .
. . .
CAWWW! CAWWW!
An invisible crow flew across the courtyard.
It circled Vaerun’s head once, cackled with the satisfaction of a creature that had just witnessed a political assassination, and disappeared beyond the roof.
Ravian pressed his lips together. Mira, who had been arranging a tray of refreshments nearby, suddenly became fascinated by the contents of a teapot.
Vaerun stared at his daughter; Seyra smiled back, and the silence stretched.
"Looks like I have to dismiss him."
Ravian nearly dropped the documents.
"Azram?"
Vaerun’s silver eyes returned to Seyra. "He is teaching my daughter and is evaluating his face instead of his lessons."
Seyra sat up indignantly.
"That is an outrageous accusation!"
"Is it?"
"Yes! I am evaluating both!"
. . .
. . .
CAWWW! CAWWW!
The invisible crow returned for a second flight.
This time, it seemed to be laughing. Mira covered her mouth, and Ravian turned away so quickly that he nearly walked into a pillar. Vaerun looked as though he were reconsidering every decision that had led to the adoption of this particular child.
Seyra, meanwhile, was thoroughly pleased with herself.
"Besides, Papa, he is a good tutor. He teaches me about the temples, the elemental guardians, and the Aether Core. He answers my questions, too."
"Does he?"
"Yes. He even asks for my opinions."
Vaerun’s expression shifted slightly; that was worth noting. Nerath Zair was not merely reciting lessons to entertain a child. He was observing her understanding and encouraging her to think.
A wise approach, perhaps, even if his face had apparently become a matter of academic importance.
Vaerun sighed.
"Very well."
Seyra giggled as she was having fun teasing her father.
"What of your other tutors?"
"Lady Samira is wonderful. She teaches me how to smile at people I dislike without accidentally declaring war on their ancestors."
"A useful skill."
"Very useful. I think I shall need it."
"And Master Belran?"
Seyra’s smile remained, but her thoughts briefly returned to the scholar who had spent an entire lesson explaining why House Veyrath and House Azrath were feared across the empire.
Ah. That one.
"Not bad," she replied.
Vaerun looked at her.
"Not bad?"
"He knows a great deal about history."
"That was not what I asked."
Seyra blinked, and for a moment, she wondered whether her papa possessed some mysterious parental ability that allowed him to detect suspicious thoughts.
Then she remembered that Vaerun Veyrath had spent most of his life navigating the treacherous world of noble politics.
Fortunately, she was an innocent little girl, a completely innocent little girl who had recently remembered that her history tutor’s house might have connections to a future conspiracy.
"Why are you asking all these questions, Papa?" she asked, tilting her head. "Are you worried I might do something?"
Vaerun returned to his parchment.
"Why should I worry?" He spoke as casually as if they were discussing the weather. "You are the daughter of Azram Vaerun Veyrath. I do not need to worry about what you might do to your tutors. They are the ones who should be worried about what you might do to them."
For three seconds, Seyra was silent, then her eyes shone. Her mouth curved into a delighted, positively wicked smile.
"Does that mean I can do anything?"
Vaerun turned a page. "You must have a reason for whatever you do."
Seyra’s smile returned so quickly it was almost alarming.
"Oh."
She nodded solemnly.
’Excellent. A loophole.’
Vaerun finally looked at her.
"I can see you thinking."
Seyra giggled. Vaerun set the parchment aside and reached down to ruffle her hair. She immediately leaned into his hand, enjoying the affection while pretending she had not been waiting for it.
"But remember one thing, little lizard." His voice remained calm, though his gaze grew more serious. "Never attack first."
Seyra looked up at him.
"Even if someone deserves it?"
"Especially then. Anger is a poor reason to act carelessly, know what you are doing, understand the consequences, and never mistake cruelty for strength."
For once, Seyra did not answer with a joke; she studied his face. There was no hesitation in his expression, no attempt to pretend that the world was kind or that power was harmless. Vaerun was teaching her the rules he lived by.
She nodded.
"Understood, Papa."
Then she scooted closer, climbed onto the upper diwan, and settled herself against his side. Vaerun watched her rearrange the cushions.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting comfortable."
She lay down with her head in his lap, and a few seconds passed. Then she tilted her face toward him.
"Papa?"
"Hmm?"
"What if I kill someone?"
Ravian’s pen stopped moving. Mira froze beside the refreshments. Somewhere beyond the courtyard walls, a bird abruptly took flight.
Vaerun looked down at his daughter.
"At your age, killing someone would be rather difficult. However, if you ever find yourself in a situation where someone’s life must be taken to protect your own, you may order Captain Ishtar to assist you."
Seyra’s eyes widened with a wicked little smile spreading across her face. "It’s good to have power, isn’t it, Papa?"
Vaerun did not answer immediately, and then he rested one hand on her head. Seyra hummed happily. The evening breeze was pleasant, her papa’s lap was comfortable, and the world seemed perfectly willing to leave her alone for a while.
So she closed her eyes, and for several peaceful minutes, the courtyard remained quiet.
Vaerun read his parchments. Ravian sorted the remaining documents. Mira arranged the refreshments, and the fountain continued its gentle song beneath the fading sunlight.
The sun sank lower, bathing the courtyard in the deep gold of evening.
Seyra lay comfortably in Vaerun’s lap, watching the first stars appear above the sandstone walls. Her earlier mischief had settled into a lazy contentment, but her thoughts had not entirely quieted.
There was something she wanted to ask; she had been turning it over in her mind since her encounter with Master Belran, and finally, she spoke.
"Papa?"
Vaerun continued reading.
"Hmm?"
"Can you tell me about Master Belran Ashur?"
His hand stopped moving over the parchment, then he lowered it and glanced down at her. Seyra looked up innocently.
Vaerun studied her for several seconds.
"Why?"
"I’m curious."
Then as Vaerun’s expression remained calm.
"His wife used to pursue me and asked me to marry her."
. . .
. . .
Silence.
The fountain continued trickling; a breeze rustled the cedar leaves.
CAWWWW! CAWWWW!
The invisible crow descended from the heavens. It flew directly over Seyra’s head, circled once, and let out the most triumphant cackle ever heard in the history of Eshkaran.
Seyra froze, her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and nothing came out. For one glorious second, even the air seemed to have stopped moving.
Then she pushed herself upright so abruptly that Vaerun had to catch her before she slid off his lap.
"PAPA!"
Vaerun blinked.
"WHY WOULD YOU HIRE SUCH A PERSON TO TEACH YOUR DAUGHTER?"
Vaerun looked at her, wondering why a simple statement about a former courtship had caused the entire courtyard to collapse into silent hysteria.
Seyra clutched his sleeve.
"His wife pursued you? And now her husband is teaching me?"
"Yes."
She stared at him; he stared back. Seyra slowly released his sleeve and leaned away. "This is strange, not...this is a disaster wearing expensive clothes."
Ravian made a choking noise.
Seyra began gesturing wildly.
"It’s like a reverse soap opera! The wife pursued the handsome Azram, the Azram rejected her, and now the rejected woman’s husband has been hired to educate the Azram’s daughter!"
She stopped, her expression turned horrified.
"What if the wife still likes you?"
Vaerun stared at her.
"What?"
"What if she comes back?"
"Seyra."
"What if Master Belran hates you because his wife wanted you? What if he teaches me terrible history because he wants revenge? What if this is the beginning of a political scandal?"
Vaerun caught her gently by the shoulders.
"Breathe."
Seyra inhaled, then exhaled, then stared at him again.
"Papa, I think I have entered a soap opera."
Vaerun blinked.
"What is a soap opera?"
"Drama, Papa. Drama."
He considered this explanation with the seriousness of a man being introduced to a new branch of imperial law.
"I see."
Seyra stared at him in absolute disbelief.
’This man...this beautiful, terrifying, emotionally unavailable man. He has no idea how dangerous his own life is.’
She sank back into his lap and covered her face with both hands.
"I need a vacation."
"You are four."
"I have suffered enough to qualify."
Vaerun resumed reading as though his daughter had not just accused his life of being a soap opera. After a moment, he added, "Master Belran Ashur is a scholar with considerable knowledge of history, imperial governance, and the elemental traditions. He teaches children from several noble houses."
Seyra slowly lowered her hands. Vaerun’s expression became faintly proud.
"He should consider himself fortunate to be teaching the daughter of Azram Vaerun Veyrath."
Seyra stared at him as her Papa looked entirely serious.
’Oh, wonderful....papa has no idea that his daughter’s history tutor may be connected to a future conspiracy, but at least he is confident about the quality of his own bloodline.’
Vaerun glanced down at her.
"Is Master Belran troubling you?"
The question was quiet. The pride faded from his face, replaced by something far more attentive. Seyra considered her answer.
She could tell him about the tutor’s lessons, his suspicious remarks, and the way he seemed determined to make her distrust House Veyrath. She could also tell him about the connection she remembered between House Ashur and House Marekh but she still had no proof that Master Belran was involved in anything beyond his own prejudices.
So she chose her words carefully.
"Not yet."
Vaerun studied her.
Seyra tried to look innocent.
It was difficult when she had just spent several minutes imagining an entire scandal involving a rejected wife, a resentful husband, and her Papa’s devastating face.
"Not yet?" he repeated.
She sighed and settled more comfortably against him. "He hasn’t done anything to me, Papa. Not yet."
Vaerun remained silent for a moment, then he reached down and ruffled her hair. "If he dares to mistreat you, tell Captain Ishtar immediately. She will handle it."
Seyra nodded.
"Understood."
Just then, the air shifted, a large white shape emerged from the shadows beneath the cedar trees, moving with the silent grace of moonlight spilling across the sand.
Veyra.
The White Leopard of Air approached the diwan and nudged Seyra’s cheek with her broad head.
Seyra immediately brightened.
"Veyra!"
She scrambled upright and wrapped both arms around the leopard’s neck. Veyra rumbled softly, pressing her nose against Seyra’s cheek as she giggled.
"I was just discussing the terrible state of my education."
The leopard’s silver eyes turned toward Vaerun, he regarded his guardian with quiet composure.
"Do not encourage her."
Veyra blinked slowly, the expression was unmistakably innocent. Seyra gasped. "Papa! Veyra would never do such a thing!"
Vaerun looked at the enormous leopard, then at his daughter.
"Of course not."
Veyra nudged Seyra again, the girl slid off the diwan and landed on her feet. "I shall go and play now!"
"Stay within the inner courtyard."
"Yes, Papa!"
"And do not climb the walls."
Seyra paused, her eyes darted briefly toward the nearby stone wall, then she looked back at him.
"Why would you say such a thing?"
"Because I know you."
"That’s hurtful."
"Go."
Seyra giggled, the White Leopard followed with the patient dignity of a guardian who had witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms and somehow found a four-year-old girl more difficult to manage than either.
Vaerun watched them disappear beneath the cedar arches, his expression softened for a moment, then he turned back to his parchments.
"Ravian."
The assistant straightened immediately.
"Yes, Azram?"
"Have Captain Ishtar remain close to Seyra during Master Belran’s lessons."
Ravian’s expression became serious. "Do you suspect Master Ashur of something?"
"I suspect nothing without evidence." Vaerun picked up the next parchment. "But my daughter has questions about him, and I would prefer to know if those questions have a reason."
Ravian nodded.
"Understood. I shall inform Captain Ishtar."
Vaerun’s silver eyes moved briefly toward the corridor where Seyra had vanished.
The courtyard settled into peace once more.
Veyra, the White Leopard of Air, watched the departing girl for a moment before turning her silver gaze toward Vaerun. Then, without warning, the great leopard nudged Seyra’s hand with her nose.
Seyra stopped.
"What?"
Veyra turned and began walking toward the opposite end of the courtyard. Seyra blinked, then hurried after her.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
The white leopard glanced back at her.
"Do you want to play somewhere else?"
Veyra gave a slow nod.
Seyra’s eyes brightened. "Oh! Why didn’t you say so earlier?"
Without another question, she followed the great white leopard beneath the cedar arches, her little footsteps fading into the evening quiet.
Behind them, the courtyard remained peaceful, and Vaerun continued reading his parchments, unaware that his daughter was being led somewhere by his own elemental guardian.