Imager's Challenge Read Online Free Page B

about the depth of my problems with Ryel were Seliora’s family—and that was because Grandmama Diestra had discovered them in investigating my suitability as a suitor for Seliora. One never knew, but I doubted that anyone in the Collegium had told Veblynt—and that suggested High Holder Ryel—or Dulyk or Iryela, his other children—had been the ones to spread the word.
    “I can’t say that I’ve had any personal dealings with either, with the possible exception of dancing one dance with High Holder Ryel’s daughter.”
    “Rhenn . . . you didn’t ever mention that,” Mother said, her voice containing hints of wonder and worry.
    “That was at the Council’s Harvest Ball. She asked me, and my duty required me to dance with her.”
    “What was she like?”
    “She is quite good-looking, much in the same way as Madame D’Veblynt is.” I nodded to Eliesa. “In appearance, they might well be related.”
    Eliesa flushed. “You flatter me.”
    “I think not.” I paused. “I did not mean to imply more than I said, yet you could have changed places with her, and few would have noticed the difference.”
    “I must confess to being slightly older than Iryela.”
    I managed a polite and warm smile. “Will you also confess to being distant cousins . . . or some such?”
    “Alas, you have discovered one of my secrets, sir.”
    “You really are related?” asked Mother.
    “In a very roundabout way, but I would appreciate it if you did not mention this. Explaining can be so troublesome.”
    If explaining was so troublesome, why had I been set up to reveal the relationship? To give Veblynt some advantage in dealing with Father? Or was it the first step in High Holder Ryel’s campaign against me? Or something else entirely?
    “Family ties—and unties—can be most tedious, and better not plumbed in depth,” said Veblynt smoothly before turning to Ferdinand. “We will be building an addition to the mill shortly.”
    “You’re looking for stone and brick, like before?” asked Ferdinand, his voice hearty.
    “As always.”
    I glanced at Seliora, but she had already begun to speak. “Eliesa . . . are all the High Holder balls as stiff and formal as Rhenn has said?”
    “They are most formal, and the slightest misstatement can lead to difficulties.” Eliesa laughed, if with a slight brittleness behind the sound. “That is why so often so little is said, for all the words that are exchanged. You are very fortunate to have wealth without holdings.”
    “I am fortunate to be able to contribute through honest work to what we have,” Seliora replied warmly. “I’ve found it most rewarding to help create things of beauty. I must say that I pity anyone who must scheme and plot just to hold on to what they have, especially when they create nothing of lasting beauty or substance. Even worse are those who seek to destroy others because they spoke the wrong words.”
    I managed to suppress a smile at Seliora’s ability to say everything so warmly and apparently guilelessly.
    “And you, Rhenn, what do you think?” asked Veblynt.
    I shrugged. “I was an artist. Now I’m an imager. We all do what we can, but it seems to me that scheming and plotting leaves one with very little in the end.”
    Veblynt actually frowned thoughtfully. “There are certainly High Holders and even some factors who would disagree with that.”
    “I’m sure they would, but that’s why they’re what they are and why I’m what I am.”
    Ferdinand laughed, perhaps more loudly than necessary. “Well said, Rhenn.” He turned to Veblynt. “You know, that’s one of the things I like about bricks and stone. I’d almost forgotten.”
    Almost everyone at the table looked confused.
    Following a moment of silence, Ferdinand went on. “Worked stone and well-fired bricks are what they are, and they stay what they are. They don’t rot like wood, and they don’t say things that they don’t mean, like all too many folks do.” Then he