House Vezna make the same pledge.”
“If Sentar conquers Altura, or Tingara, or both, why would he then come to Vezna?”
“Would you really sit back and allow the rest of the Empire to fall into darkness?” Amber countered. “Is that a beneficial outcome, do you think?” She couldn’t keep the tone of accusation from her voice. She breathed slowly in and then out to calm herself.
“Leave me for a moment,” High Lord Grigori said. Sergei met Amber’s eyes and indicated the terrace doors with his chin.
“Lady Amber, if you’d like to join me on the terrace? Perhaps you would like some fresh air?” Sergei inquired.
Amber nodded; she craved the open air. In contrast to the rest of Rosarva, she found the Borlag an oppressive place.
“Of course, Lord Marshal,” she said, noting to herself that only Sergei had the courtesy to use her name or title.
As Amber rose from her seat, the door burst open, and a small girl raced into the room, her sparkling eyes on the high lord. The girl wore a thick white tunic with orange trim, the material supple and expensive. At her neck she wore the Veznan raj hada on a pendant , the silver sprouting seed at her neck matching the green seedling she held in her cupped palms.
“Look, Father!” the girl cried.
She displayed her handful of dirt, and the small sprout with two leaves poked up about four fingers in height. “They’re growing !”
Grigori Orlov opened his arms and pulled the child onto his lap. “Show me, Katerina. That’s incredible!” The dour high lord beamed. “In such a short time too?”
“The high lord’s daughter,” Sergei murmured to Amber.
Both Katerina and her father ignored the dirt spilling out onto the floor. Grigori scooped the dirt and sprout from his daughter’s hands and then gently shook out the soil, adding to the mess. “Look at the roots. A strong plant needs good roots. They’re thick and wide, see?” He laid the sprout flat on his palm and pulled his daughter close. “If they’re all like this, you’ve done an excel lent job. ”
“Really?” Katerina squirmed.
“Come,” Sergei said to Amber, leading her to the balcony and closing the doors behind them.
Amber breathed in the fresh springtime air wafting from the city across the moat. She realized her hands were shaking, and she clasped them, one inside the other.
“I’m sorry,” Sergei said. “I’ve tried to convince the high lord to agree to your proposal, but he only cares for Vezna and for watching his daughter grow.”
Amber looked out at the Juno Bridge, a tall arch spanning the moat. The high lord had conceded to let her mount her reflector on a single rod fixed to the living bridge. Amber had placed the device in the center of the bridge so that the prism was high in the sky, above the tops of the trees, but also visible in the palace.
Amber took relief from the fact that the reflector was dark. The chain of towers reached all the way to Sarostar via Samson’s Bridge. It stretched to Ralanast and to Seranthia. No distress call had been sen t.
“What else can I say?” Amber said. “I was there. I saw what’s coming with my own eyes. Vezna isn’t safe. If Altura falls, your lands will too.”
“Perhaps you should go home, my Lady,” Sergei said gently.
Amber shook her head. “I can’t leave without a promise of aid. I’ll stay for as long as it takes.”
“The high lord’s hospitality only extends so far.”
“Then he’ll have to lock me up.” Amber lifted her chin. “He can try to cast me out, but I’ll just come back.”
Sergei let out a breath. “You are determined.” He gave her his charming smile. “I will continue to work on your behalf.”
The next day, at mid-morning, Amber walked around the Borlag, following the thin strip of land surrounding the high lord’s palace . She felt cooped in the brooding interior and needed to stretch her leg s.
Katerina, the high lord’s daughter, sat playing in a puddle, her golden
“If Sentar conquers Altura, or Tingara, or both, why would he then come to Vezna?”
“Would you really sit back and allow the rest of the Empire to fall into darkness?” Amber countered. “Is that a beneficial outcome, do you think?” She couldn’t keep the tone of accusation from her voice. She breathed slowly in and then out to calm herself.
“Leave me for a moment,” High Lord Grigori said. Sergei met Amber’s eyes and indicated the terrace doors with his chin.
“Lady Amber, if you’d like to join me on the terrace? Perhaps you would like some fresh air?” Sergei inquired.
Amber nodded; she craved the open air. In contrast to the rest of Rosarva, she found the Borlag an oppressive place.
“Of course, Lord Marshal,” she said, noting to herself that only Sergei had the courtesy to use her name or title.
As Amber rose from her seat, the door burst open, and a small girl raced into the room, her sparkling eyes on the high lord. The girl wore a thick white tunic with orange trim, the material supple and expensive. At her neck she wore the Veznan raj hada on a pendant , the silver sprouting seed at her neck matching the green seedling she held in her cupped palms.
“Look, Father!” the girl cried.
She displayed her handful of dirt, and the small sprout with two leaves poked up about four fingers in height. “They’re growing !”
Grigori Orlov opened his arms and pulled the child onto his lap. “Show me, Katerina. That’s incredible!” The dour high lord beamed. “In such a short time too?”
“The high lord’s daughter,” Sergei murmured to Amber.
Both Katerina and her father ignored the dirt spilling out onto the floor. Grigori scooped the dirt and sprout from his daughter’s hands and then gently shook out the soil, adding to the mess. “Look at the roots. A strong plant needs good roots. They’re thick and wide, see?” He laid the sprout flat on his palm and pulled his daughter close. “If they’re all like this, you’ve done an excel lent job. ”
“Really?” Katerina squirmed.
“Come,” Sergei said to Amber, leading her to the balcony and closing the doors behind them.
Amber breathed in the fresh springtime air wafting from the city across the moat. She realized her hands were shaking, and she clasped them, one inside the other.
“I’m sorry,” Sergei said. “I’ve tried to convince the high lord to agree to your proposal, but he only cares for Vezna and for watching his daughter grow.”
Amber looked out at the Juno Bridge, a tall arch spanning the moat. The high lord had conceded to let her mount her reflector on a single rod fixed to the living bridge. Amber had placed the device in the center of the bridge so that the prism was high in the sky, above the tops of the trees, but also visible in the palace.
Amber took relief from the fact that the reflector was dark. The chain of towers reached all the way to Sarostar via Samson’s Bridge. It stretched to Ralanast and to Seranthia. No distress call had been sen t.
“What else can I say?” Amber said. “I was there. I saw what’s coming with my own eyes. Vezna isn’t safe. If Altura falls, your lands will too.”
“Perhaps you should go home, my Lady,” Sergei said gently.
Amber shook her head. “I can’t leave without a promise of aid. I’ll stay for as long as it takes.”
“The high lord’s hospitality only extends so far.”
“Then he’ll have to lock me up.” Amber lifted her chin. “He can try to cast me out, but I’ll just come back.”
Sergei let out a breath. “You are determined.” He gave her his charming smile. “I will continue to work on your behalf.”
The next day, at mid-morning, Amber walked around the Borlag, following the thin strip of land surrounding the high lord’s palace . She felt cooped in the brooding interior and needed to stretch her leg s.
Katerina, the high lord’s daughter, sat playing in a puddle, her golden
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