She hadn’t forgotten about her discovery of his manipulation regarding her classes.
“It won’t be that bad,” Jaax assured her, moving to stand in the center of the large foyer.
Along the walls, Jahrra noted several tables laden with food and beverages. Casting her guardian one more angry look, she quickly walked over to the punch bowl and fetched herself something to drink. Just then, the Coalition members started filing from the wide open doors. Jahrra froze and darted a terrified look at Jaax. The dragon merely watched her, one eyebrow lifted to match the quirk of his mouth. Jahrra cursed silently to herself. As frightened as she was at being rushed by hundreds of people, she was too proud to return to Jaax’s side.
At first, everyone headed for the large Tanaan dragon standing in the middle of the grand hall. Upon finding Jahrra absent from his side, they began looking around in puzzlement. If the object of their search hadn’t been her, Jahrra would have laughed out loud. Eventually, the men and women closest to her spotted her and hurried over, smiles plastered on their faces. It was obvious they were fighting the desire to run at her. Taking a large drink of the punch, Jahrra set it down on the table and steeled herself for the first wave.
“Oh, it is so wonderful to meet you at last!” a middle-aged Nesnan woman cried, holding her hand out to Jahrra.
Reluctantly, Jahrra took her hand and shook it.
“I am Lorria, and I can hardly believe Ethoes has finally sent you to us.”
Jahrra murmured some polite thanks and soon the others were upon her as well. She shook hands with Nesnans, Resai, those whose ancestors had been dwarves and even some of the centaurs.
Anthar came over as well, a great grin on his face.
“I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said.
Jahrra smiled back. “But you already know me.”
“Well, of course, but I must follow protocol and offer you the same greeting as everyone else here.”
He waved a great arm around the busy hall and then turned the gesture into an elegant bow. Jahrra laughed, her nerves and anger at Jaax finally fading away.
“Tell me the truth professor,” Jahrra said, “you knew who I was all along, didn’t you?”
The centaur took a breath, thought about his answer, then said, “I had my suspicions.”
Jahrra wasn’t convinced. Yes, many citizens of Lidien had learned of her identity, but it wasn’t as if she had gone about in a fancy carriage declaring throughout the entire city who she was. And she never discussed it while attending class. But she was sure Anthar had known since that first day in this very hall.
She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “So it’s just a coincidence that you, and several of my other professors, happen to be Coalition members?”
“Well,” he began, shifting his weight and stomping the ground with one of his hoofs, “perhaps Jaax did mention–”
“Ugh, I knew it!” she breathed, dropping her hands and reaching for her glass of punch once again. She took another drink and set it down.
“Jahrra, he merely wants to protect you,” Anthar said in defense of the dragon. “And several professors have ties to the Coalition–”
“I understand that,” she retorted, cutting him off. “What I don’t understand is why he must do so without telling me.”
The centaur crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth quirking in a small, knowing grin. “And how would you react if he were to tell you beforehand?”
Jahrra opened her mouth to deny she would ever object, but before she could say anything she released a breath and shook her head.
“I guess I would fight him,” she admitted reluctantly. “But that doesn’t make it right, and it still grates at me.”
“Of course it does,” Anthar replied cheerily.
“Ah, there you are Anthar!”
Jahrra turned to see another centaur, no, not a centaur, but a ceniket, making her way through the crowd as she moved towards them. Jahrra couldn’t remember seeing her during the meeting and wondered if she had been there at all. Her coat was snow white, her hair a pale blond and her eyes a clear blue. She trotted up to Anthar and reached for his face. She wasn’t as tall as he was and had to pull his head down in order to give him a quick kiss.
“Tarthan is finally asleep, but Gessa needs to get home. It is nearly midnight and I’m expecting her to come into the nursery tomorrow.”
Anthar sighed and glanced down at Jahrra. The lovely ceniket followed his gaze, noticing Jahrra for the first time.
“Oh! I beg your pardon,” she said in a very kind voice, “I hadn’t noticed you were in the middle of a conversation.”
“It’s quite alright, Mirrial,” he said lovingly. “Jahrra didn’t know of my plan to have you come rescue me.”
Jahrra gave him a puzzled look and he laughed.
“I feared I might get trapped here by some of our more enthusiastic members, so I commissioned Mirrial to come fetch me, claiming some emergency of sorts.”
Jahrra laughed, easily forgiving her professor for conspiring with Jaax.
“And here I am, being neglectful of proper social etiquette.” Anthar cleared his throat and said, holding his arm out to the ceniket, “Jahrra, might I present Mirrial, my lovely wife. Mirrial, this is Jahrraneh Drisihn, the human child promised to us.”
Mirrial blinked several times, then her face lit up with joy. “Oh, but my husband has told me so much about you! You seem very well-suited to his class on wildlife.”
The ceniket reached out a hand and Jahrra took it, giving Anthar a knowing look. He merely grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Hadn’t known who she was indeed. Had Jaax spoken with all her professors, asking them to watch over her? Jahrra shook her head. She would be angry later.
Five more minutes of conversation ensued and then both Anthar and Mirrial were off.
“I was telling the truth about Gessa, and Tarthan has a nasty habit of staying awake for as long as he can,” Mirrial explained.
“Tarthan is our son and he is a very rambunctious toddler,” Anthar added to appease Jahrra’s puzzled look.
She smiled, imagining what a young centaur might be like. Jahrra watched as they left, walking arm in arm and waving to friends as they passed. The hall was finally beginning to empty out but there were still plenty of Coalition members to pester her for a word or two. After making friends with a few more Nesnan men, Jahrra looked up to find Dathian standing in front of her. She stilled, wondering what to say to him. Why did you behave like a common elf if you are really a prince? was one of many questions she wished to ask.
Jahrra bent her knees in a formal curtsy but Dathian held up a hand and shook his head slightly. He really did look regal, dressed in his finery, despite his glasses. Jahrra remembered how he had pretended to struggle up the hill earlier that week and how it was clear he wasn’t making much of an effort at all. He would have been exposed to his fair share of horsemanship and sword play if he were really a prince. It was no wonder he hadn’t really struggled. But why all the pretending?
“Please don’t curtsy,” he said. “You must wonder why I behaved the way I did, that day you helped retrieve my book.”
Jahrra could only nod.
Dathian took a breath and looked away, his arms still clasped loosely behind his back. Eventually, he returned his gaze to Jahrra.
“I’m the fifth son of the king of Dhonoara with no chance of inheriting the throne, unless my father and my older brothers should ever encounter something to relieve them of their immortality. Very unlikely to happen.”
Jahrra nodded again.
“I’ve been raised as a prince, learning all sorts of courtly manners and the proper actions a prince must make, but I have always wanted to escape that life. Since I’m so far away from ever inheriting the throne, my parents entertained my desire to leave home and study. The last thing I want is for the citizens of Lidien to learn who I truly am.”