Shield's Lady
thoughts churning in her head. But when she spoke she surprised him with her question.
        "Why did Lady Avylyn address you as Lord Chassyn he other morning in my office?"
        "The title is mine by right. I'm a direct descendant of a Prime Family of the Shield class. Our class may be an insignificant one in your eyes, with no equivalent in the east, but it is a legitimate class here in the west."
        She looked at him curiously. "I didn't mean to offend you."
        "Didn't you?" Sometimes, Gryph reflected, his future Shieldmate displayed a most amazing talent for annoying him.
        Sariana appeared uncharacteristically contrite. Her apology was gracious and formal. "I'm sorry if I have offended you or your social class. Please forgive me. All social classes are deserving of respect and equality, just as the social philosophers decreed when they created them. I have been under a certain amount of strain lately. Sometimes I speak before I think."
        "You ought to watch that, Sariana," Gryph couldn't resist saying.
        She frowned. "Watch what?"
        "Speaking before you think. That's a western habit. We tend to get emotional about things, you see."
        To his surprise she took the comment seriously. "I have noticed the tendency."
        "I'll bet you have. You couldn't have lived here for a year and not seen a lot of examples of that tendency. We're a little hot-blooded here in.the west. Also occasionally rash, passionate, and amazingly reckless at times."
        Sariana grinned unexpectedly. "The Avylyns call it artistic temperament. They seem to think it was inevitable, given (he fact that most of the social classes on board The Serendipity had an artistic orientation. Sometimes I've wondered if it might be caused partly by your environment. Everything seems very strongly stated here in the west. The climate, the landscape, the plants and animals. Nothing is dull or colorless." She glanced at the huge conservatory clock and gave a start. "I'd better get back to my suite. It's very late."
        "I'll walk you back."
        "No, no, that's quite all right," she protested quickly. "I wouldn't want you to go out of your way."
        "It's not out of my way. My suite is in the same wing as yours. Lady Avylyn graciously assigned it to me this morning."
        "Oh."
        Gryph took some satisfaction from the fact that she couldn't find anything else to say to that. Sariana, he was learning, was rarely at a loss for words.
        They walked in silence down the long gallery of the wing in which their chambers were located. At Sariana's door they came to a halt and Gryph reached down to touch the hidden spring mechanism. The door opened on its silent hinges and Sariana stepped inside. She started to turn, a polite farewell on her lips, then stopped abruptly as her attention was caught by something inside the room.
        "Oh, no!"
        Gryph was inside the room at once, scanning the interior with a practiced eye. "What's wrong?"
        "The scarlet-toe. It's out of its cage." Sariana hurried forward to examine the empty gold cage. The tiny door stood open. "How could it have gotten out? I'll have to find it. I can't possibly go to sleep knowing there's a lizard running around my room."
        "Scarlet- toes are very clever," Gryph remarked. The alert tension that had gripped him when Sariana had cried out in dismay vanished. He took a good look around the room while Sariana darted about anxiously looking in comers and under chairs.
        The ornate bed was suspended from the ceiling by four heavy chains in the typical western fashion. It hung a half meter above the floor, but it was impossible to see under it because of the bed drapes.
        The walls were painted a warm yellow, the elaborate architectural details picked out in white and gilt. High, arched windows looked out over the gardens toward the river. There was a fine cabinet finished in black enamel

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