The Changeling

18

Her lids clicked shut like the ticking of an escapement. She could hear the tap, tap, tap of clacking teeth catching against knobs.

"Ovar —," Cetlali broke, squeaking out the words. Xocthl sneezed, loud and sudden.

Cetlali fought her urge to flinch, mouth snapping shut.

"Yes," Ezren replied with an aggrieved sigh,

"I know of his behavior and treatment of the indulgents. Xocthl and Lovou were kind enough to inform me of what happened." His scoff was dark and bitter. Three of the toughest, scariest warriors in the Empire, sitting with tea to discuss courtly gossip, was an image that would not vacate Cetlali's thoughts.

"The whispers about his behavior took precedence. He started fights and terrorized indulgents, just an all around general indecency for a man of his station. If not for that unpleasantness, you would have been the talk of the Citadel." Ezren cleared his throat and reached for the plate Cetlali was handing him.

"Me?" A vacant terror seized her and her voice quavered as Ezren took the plate from her hands. They started twitching with the need for movement, hoping it could expel the sick feeling thrumming beneath her skin. She tucked them into her lap, clenching them tight while her forefinger and thumb worried at the seam of her skirt.

Ezren chuckled before spearing a morsel of food. He spoke before he took his bite. "Yes, many of the court's nobility were mightily impressed with your presence. Both at my side and afterwards while with the future Empress and her sister. I've heard Vae Zoya saying there is no one in the Citadel the two speak more highly of than you."

Cetlali couldn't help the shaking in her beaming smile, of course. It was a warming feeling to know the sisters's mother had spoken of how much her daughters cared for her.

Cetlali cared for them too, so very much. Too much, perhaps. It agonized her to think about it, to imagine going back to a life where their friendship was a distant, unrealistic dream.

Now she got the chance to build relationships outside of written letters and stolen moments in the rare gaps between busy schedules. Her throat bobbed with something, but she didn't speak, knowing Ezren would get to his point.

He swallowed and continued, "People also spoke of your grace and humor, irreproachable courtesies and immense presence for a woman

of your station. I'd say the court was very pleased with your debut."

"Debut?" She frowned at the other word she didn't like in his statement, but didn't comment on it. She couldn't bother to put a plate together for herself, her stomach rolling like a stormy sea. His ominous words didn't help.

The copious amounts of alcohol she ingested the night before didn't either.

He waved her question away. "The point is, you have made me proud, Cetlali."

The words rang through her as if she was a gong struck for the evening meal. Her heartbeat fluttered and her stomach soured further. She couldn't help but smile at him, even if it came off pained. "I am so grateful, Vassour Elect."

He reached forward and took her hand in his. His thumb ran across her knuckles in what she assumed was supposed to be a soothing gesture. "Because you have pleased me so greatly and done me such an honor, I will take

your behavior last night into consideration during our discussions tonight."

Just as she rang with his praise, that statement struck her numb, and it quenched any positivity like tempered steel. His touches became something she could not process. She kept the smile on her face, but her blood chilled.