“I’m often jealous of my brother, Branelwyr, and his place on the Royal Council,” Blindelsyn sighed with a wistful look, but then she added with resolved; “But we all have our duties and obligations… and my place is here with my people. I only wish I didn’t feel so isolated from the rest of the world.” “If you’ll forgive me, your highness, in my opinion you have the better of it,” Rynard comforted her, maintaining a respectful, formal tone. “Velprintalar may be a marvelous place of art, culture and learning, but I’ve found the people of the Yuirwood far more hospitable and accepting. Most people in the coastlands distrust magic and all who practice the Art. I’ve felt as if under suspicion ever since my gift first showed when I was just a boy. Although I am a stranger here, I feel more welcome than I did in my own home… and then there’s the Sons of Hoar who seek to supplant the Simbul and restore the ways of old Velprin.” “I’ve heard rumors of such a sect,” she whispered with a frightened edge in her voice, “but hoped that it was nothing but tavern talk. However, I fear a change is coming. There’s a growing number amongst the Yuir who call for my brother and I to honor the blood of Brindor and reclaim all of Aglarond for the forest once again. I worry that if the Simbul continues to disappear without warning, one day soon she’ll return to find a kingdom at war with itself… and I don’t doubt the zulkirs of Thay have been waiting for just such a day.” “I fear your right,” he agreed solemnly, and then looked at her with concern. “Would you heed that call, your highness… would you lead your people against the coastlands?” “Only to defend the Yuir as Brindor did… The folly of Queen Indrila is still remembered here, even after three centuries.” Then she looked up to the tavern about them and the joyful people crowding it, and turned the conversation to a happier subject; “But this is a night of celebration and we’ll speak of no more dark tidings… You and your companions have done great service to the Yuir and you should be rewarded for it.” “You’re most gracious, your highness,” he replied humbly, pushing their concerns to the back of his mind for now and allowing himself to enjoy her very pleasant company. “But, for my part, I was only doing my duty.” “You were tasked with discovering the truth behind the abductions… Not facing a Red Wizard, her minions and a dragon,” she said with clear admiration, as she leaned closer and took his hand in hers. “Such heroic acts deserve recognition… and reward.” His cheeks reddened by her unexpected familiarity as he gazed into her beautiful face; she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen, but she was a high born lady, and therefore well above his station… yet that recognition did little to slow his racing heart. “Your highness,” he stammered, “your company is more reward than I could ever deserve.” “Is it?” she cooed coyly as a wicked smile turned her lips. “Then my… company… will be your reward!” Standing up from their table in a private corner of the Taproot, he could only stared up at her, dumbfounded by the realization of what she meant, as she lead him by the hand through a side exit and toward the great palace tree; their departure noticed only by her guards, who followed at a discreet distance, and the only person not interested in the celebration; Hamafil Sylerin, who looked on from the shadows fearing just such a thing.