Kolasyn was deft with a corkscrew, and I had a glass of the Cambrisio, as did Odelia, while he and Seliora had grisio. There was more than enough food, from crispy rice fries and almond-stuffed peppers to a honey-sour crispy baked chicken and apple and cheese strips, and a warm peach and berry cobbler.
“This is excellent.” I turned to Seliora, sitting not quite beside me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but Mother fixed most of it. I did the chicken, and Odelia did the rice fries. Mother did everything else.”
“I thank you and Odelia, and if you would convey my thanks to your mother?”
“We can do that.”
Everything was good, but the chicken and the cobbler were my favorites, and I did have a small second helping of the cobbler, but only after everyone else had eaten some.
“What are you studying now?” Seliora asked.
“More about the Council and about imaging. What about you?”
She shook her head. “Nothing changes. The people do, and the details do, but the work doesn’t. I just finished a design for the upholstery on a set of dining chairs for a High Holder near Mont D’Artewelle. It’s rather . . . bright.”
Odelia laughed. The design and colors had to be more than just bright.
“What are you working on, Kolasyn?”
“Ornamental bronze fire-screen castings, and the fire tools to go with them for a hunting lodge, as well as a number of garden bronzes.”
We talked for a while, or rather I asked about their projects, and then listened. As I did, it struck me that all of them were involved in creating things-as I once had been-and now I was being trained, in a way, to keep Solidar and others from being uncreated.
Odelia stood. “Is it all right if Kolasyn and I walk over to the river?”
“On this side, near the bridge,” I replied. They’d be safe anywhere, but I didn’t like the idea of their being too far away, although I couldn’t have said why. I turned to Seliora and lifted my glass, which held but a small remnant of wine. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“I enjoyed putting it together.”
“I’m looking forward to the time I can leave Imagisle,” I began, “but that is likely to be a good three weeks.” It was hard to believe that spring had departed and that it would be full summer by the seventh of Juyn.
Seliora nodded, but I could sense that there was more.
“What is it?”
“Father and Aunt Aegina are sending Shomyr and me with Grandmama on a trip to Kherseilles, Asseroiles, and then for a month at the beach near Pointe Neimon. The heat of the summers here is hard on Grandmama. Mama thinks that we can also visit a number of the textile mills we order from. They’re within an easy trip on the ironway from Pointe Neimon.”
“An easy trip?” Even I knew that wasn’t so. “Compared to what?”
“The trip to Asseroiles and Kherseilles.” Her smile was half wry, half mischievous.
“When are you leaving?”
She smiled faintly. “We depart next Jeudi. Father was able to arrange a compartment on the Express.”
Somehow I had the feeling that there was more to it than that. “I’m not Pharsi, but I have a feeling about this trip.”
“So does Grandmama. She says that it will be better this way.”
Better for whom?
“She also says that you’re more Pharsi than you think.”
“So are you,” I replied dryly.
For the briefest of instants, Seliora looked stunned. Not hurt, but truly surprised. “Why did you say that?”
“Because you are. You see things. How many Pharsis would have sensed enough to look out the window at Felters? You didn’t see the assassin. You felt him first. Isn’t that right?”
For a moment Seliora didn’t say anything. “When did you notice?”
I smiled, although I didn’t feel much like it. “In a way, I saw it then, but I didn’t realize or understand what I’d seen.”
“They’re not trying to separate us, Rhenn. Mama had planned to have you for dinner this week. She did most of this.” Seliora gestured at all the dishes and bowls on the oilcloth. “That’s because she likes you. As soon as we return, and you can leave Imagisle, Mama wants you to come for dinner. She said a real dinner.”
I could tell that Seliora meant every word, but still . . . “What do they-or you-see?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Is it that bad?”
She shook her head. “I’m trying to keep it from being bad. You have to understand, Rhenn. There’s a . . . it’s a curse of sorts that comes with the sight. Too often, we’ve found, if things are bad, but not too bad, and we warn someone, especially someone we care about, in their efforts to avoid what we saw might happen, they make it worse.”
I didn’t like what she said, especially about things being bad, but I could see how that could happen. If I’d been warned about Johanyr, I might well have tried to be less harsh, and I might have been the one headed to Mont D’Glace. “You didn’t know about the assassin?”
“It’s harder with you. I told you why. Mama just told me to be very careful.” She paused. “You have to understand. I wouldn’t be telling you this now if you weren’t an imager.”
“Because people think of Pharsis and imagers in the same way?”
She nodded. “People don’t like those who do things they can’t understand.”
I’d already seen that. “Does having the sight help in your business?”
“Sometimes. At times, I can see someone who’s pleased and even get a glimpse of the design. Mother and Grandmama are better at sensing what people like.”
“Between all three of you, that gives you a great advantage.”
“Only because Papa and Shomyr are fine crafters. The craft of the furniture and the design together . . .”
“Are all the most sighted Pharsis women?”
Seliora smiled and tilted her head. “Mostly, but that’s because you have to trust your feelings. Most men think too much.”
I took her hand in mine.
“That’s the one area where they don’t think enough.” But she was smiling, and her words were soft and warm.
“And women do?” I grinned at her.
“When we find what we know and feel is right, we don’t keep looking. Any woman who does hasn’t found what’s right.” Her lips quirked. “There’s always the problem that the right man won’t recognize that she’s the right woman.”
Her words shivered through me, because they made me think of Remaya, who had seen Rousel and never let go. What if Rousel hadn’t seen? Was Seliora the right woman for me? Or was I merely the right man for her? The two weren’t necessarily the same thing. I’d certainly wanted to be with her, but . . . how would I know? Really know? And was I thinking too much?
“Yes. You are thinking too much.” She laughed.
“Do you read thoughts as well?”
“Only when they’re written on your face.”
I laughed. We might be close to the same age, but in one area, at least, she was far older and wiser. So I said just that.
“It’s a good thing you know your weaknesses, Rhenn,” she replied. “You don’t have many, and that can make you most vulnerable. Too many men with few weaknesses delude themselves into believing they have none.”
“Oh . . . I have weaknesses, and you’re definitely one of them.”
We talked for a long time, not saying all that much, but enjoying the banter and the early evening, and it was well past the seventh bell when I finished helping Seliora and Odelia pack everything back into their wicker baskets and then walked to the bridge with them.
There, on the edge of the bridge, Seliora turned to me and slipped her arms around me, then lifted her head and lips. We did kiss, and it was anything but brief.
When we finally released each other, she looked up. “You will come to dinner when we come back.” Her words were anything but a question.
“I promise.”
I stood on the bridge and watched until the three of them caught a hack, and I was glad that Odelia and Kolasyn were with Seliora, competent as she was.
46