then, without any warning, it was over. Sariana was set free as abruptly as she had been taken captive. She caught hold of the edge of the desk for balance and stared at Gryph. She was far more shaken than she wanted to admit. She hastily used the only defense she had, her quick tongue.
"I'm sure you already know your manners are utteriy abominable," Sariana managed with a smooth sarcasm that she hoped masked her inner turmoil and rage. "So I won't bother to give you a lecture about them. I doubt if you're capable of learning much on the subject of manners, anyway. I have it on good authority that you were raised on the frontier, far from proper society. You'll be interested to know your lack of breeding shows. And because you are ill-bred, you probably don't mind that it shows." She-turned away to open a section of the desk. "You might not believe it, but I do have better things to do this morning than fight off the advances of an over-priced mercenary whose social class is obviously disintegrating even as we speak. Please leave."
There was a stunned silence from behind her. Gryph didn't move.
"We have a lot more to discuss," he finally got out. His voice sounded surprisingly thick and ragged.
"We have nothing more to discuss." She kept her rigid back to him as she riffled the papers in front of her. "If you have accepted a contract to recover the missing cutter, as you claim you have, I would appreciate it if you would get started on the project. As I mentioned last night, complete secrecy is required for the sake of the clan. Your cover story is that you have been hired by the Avylyns to ensure the safety of their jewelry collection on the night of their annual costume ball. Your presence in the household will appear normal until then. It will be expected that you need to make proper security arrangements. After the ball, if you still haven't found the cutter, we will need to invent another cover story. Or find another Shield."
"Lady Sariana, we have to talk," Gryph said heavily.
She whirled to face him. "I do hope that in the matter of secrecy you can be trusted."
He stared at her as if she had gone crazy, " I'm a Shield. Don't you know what that means? My word is better than prisma."
"One hopes that, while you may not have a decent set of manners, you do have some business ethics. You do, after all, belong to some sort of accepted social class, even if that class does choose to reside on the frontier for the most part. You are not a complete outlaw. Now, I have work to do. Please leave."
"Lady, if you think you can just casually toss me out of your office like this, I've got news for you."
Whatever Gryph would have said next was lost as the door to Sariana's office opened again to admit Indina Avylyn. She came into the room like a ship in full sail, her towering hairdo barely clearing the door.
"Oh, here you are, Sariana," she said in tones of tremendous relief. "I've been looking for you. I have the menus for the food we will be serving for the costume ball. Now I know I have specified some rather expensive items, but I've already explained that this is one area in which the Avylyns must not stint. The Clan has been giving this ball for nearly seventy years. People expect the best from us. If we cut comers this year they will suspect that all is not well with us. We mustn't allow that to happen." She stopped short as she realized someone else was in the room. Mild alarm dashed some of the enthusiasm from her eyes. "Lord Chassyn. The luck of the day to you, sir. Please pardon me if I'm intruding on a business conference, but this is terribly important. I must have Sariana's approval of these expenses."
"Luck to you. Lady Avylyn," Gryph said. He inclined his head with a graceful degree of polish that belied the accusations Sariana had just made concerning his manners. "I understand the importance of your situation.
"I'm sure you already know your manners are utteriy abominable," Sariana managed with a smooth sarcasm that she hoped masked her inner turmoil and rage. "So I won't bother to give you a lecture about them. I doubt if you're capable of learning much on the subject of manners, anyway. I have it on good authority that you were raised on the frontier, far from proper society. You'll be interested to know your lack of breeding shows. And because you are ill-bred, you probably don't mind that it shows." She-turned away to open a section of the desk. "You might not believe it, but I do have better things to do this morning than fight off the advances of an over-priced mercenary whose social class is obviously disintegrating even as we speak. Please leave."
There was a stunned silence from behind her. Gryph didn't move.
"We have a lot more to discuss," he finally got out. His voice sounded surprisingly thick and ragged.
"We have nothing more to discuss." She kept her rigid back to him as she riffled the papers in front of her. "If you have accepted a contract to recover the missing cutter, as you claim you have, I would appreciate it if you would get started on the project. As I mentioned last night, complete secrecy is required for the sake of the clan. Your cover story is that you have been hired by the Avylyns to ensure the safety of their jewelry collection on the night of their annual costume ball. Your presence in the household will appear normal until then. It will be expected that you need to make proper security arrangements. After the ball, if you still haven't found the cutter, we will need to invent another cover story. Or find another Shield."
"Lady Sariana, we have to talk," Gryph said heavily.
She whirled to face him. "I do hope that in the matter of secrecy you can be trusted."
He stared at her as if she had gone crazy, " I'm a Shield. Don't you know what that means? My word is better than prisma."
"One hopes that, while you may not have a decent set of manners, you do have some business ethics. You do, after all, belong to some sort of accepted social class, even if that class does choose to reside on the frontier for the most part. You are not a complete outlaw. Now, I have work to do. Please leave."
"Lady, if you think you can just casually toss me out of your office like this, I've got news for you."
Whatever Gryph would have said next was lost as the door to Sariana's office opened again to admit Indina Avylyn. She came into the room like a ship in full sail, her towering hairdo barely clearing the door.
"Oh, here you are, Sariana," she said in tones of tremendous relief. "I've been looking for you. I have the menus for the food we will be serving for the costume ball. Now I know I have specified some rather expensive items, but I've already explained that this is one area in which the Avylyns must not stint. The Clan has been giving this ball for nearly seventy years. People expect the best from us. If we cut comers this year they will suspect that all is not well with us. We mustn't allow that to happen." She stopped short as she realized someone else was in the room. Mild alarm dashed some of the enthusiasm from her eyes. "Lord Chassyn. The luck of the day to you, sir. Please pardon me if I'm intruding on a business conference, but this is terribly important. I must have Sariana's approval of these expenses."
"Luck to you. Lady Avylyn," Gryph said. He inclined his head with a graceful degree of polish that belied the accusations Sariana had just made concerning his manners. "I understand the importance of your situation.
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