Seeing Ghosts

It came to her eventually, like sea glass washed up on the shores of memory and worried back into sand by her hands. Caesennia was here, right now. The same flesh and blood that shadowed Ilaria through most of her days. Huh. This particular Archon’s parties were not particularly exclusive – as if all the foreigners wandering about were not proof enough.

Arvina must have quite a bit of faith in his so-called secret police to protect him, she thought. Andoral’s presence stirred at the back of her mind, whispering that all faith should be tested. Ilaria let that compulsion flow through her without so much as a twitch. The dragon beneath her skin lost interest quickly enough.

A flash of unnatural movement and an orange dress. Ilaria turned her head to watch Casey’s encounter with a man. Lord Lucillius – perhaps old enough to be her grandfather if no one had wasted much time about things. Laetan, with his family having come into their power a few generations ago. Not a bad match – if he’d been fifty years younger. Ilaria wondered if he had any sons and then set against the idea altogether.

She wouldn’t send any of her ladies to deal with a lecherous father in law. Not unless they were especially poor at their jobs. They need not know that, though. Ilaria got up and followed Casey, choosing a seat nearby.

“Lucillius is far too old to still be playing the rake, don’t you agree?” Amusing, to bait Casey into insulting her almost-peer – impolitic, however much the man deserved it for his behavior. “I hope you’ll let me arrange a better husband than that. When the time comes, of course.”