Page 9

She carries three ledgers into the room and arranges them by size. Her gaze passes over the paper containing the three names.

“Another report from Orthani?”

“Yes.”

“House Varrus?”

“Who else invests so much effort in my entertainment?”

Sarveth does not smile. She considers humor an inefficient corruption of language.

“Will there be a response?”

“There will be several.”

“Public?”

“Not initially.”

Her attention shifts toward the silver dish. “Then Lord Varrus may mistake restraint for reluctance.”

“He often mistakes his wishes for evidence.”

“That has not prevented others from agreeing with him.”

No servant of lesser standing would speak so plainly. Sarveth earned the privilege before I inherited this stronghold. She uses it rarely and never carelessly.

“He is questioning the continuity of the house,” she adds.

“I read the report.”

“I assumed you had.”

“And yet you repeat its purpose.”

“Because destroying the paper does not destroy the question.”

The karasu clicks its beak. Sarveth glances at the bird as though it has interrupted a council session.

“I am aware,” I say.

“Of course.”

She bows and turns toward the door.

“Sarveth.”

She stops.

“Prepare a current record of eligible marriage alliances.”

No surprise crosses her face. Three centuries of household service have trained such reactions out of her, if she ever possessed them.

“Khuzuth houses only?”

“For now.”

“And the preferred qualities?”