“The Hundred Thousand Legions.” She did not smile—I got the impression she didn’t do that often—but there was a hint of wry irony in her voice. “There aren’t really a hundred thousand, of course. It just sounds impressive that way.”
“Of course.” I had forgotten what a pain it was, dealing with Arameri family heads. “So what do you really want? Because I highly doubt you’re actually glad to have me here.”
She did not dissemble, either, which I liked. “I’m neither glad nor displeased, Lord Sieh—though, yes, your presence does serve several useful purposes to the family.” There was a pause, perhaps while she waited to see my reaction. I did wonder why the Arameri could possibly want me around, but I imagined that would become clear soon enough. “To that end, I have informed Morad, our palace steward, to ensure that all your material needs are met while you’re here.”
“It would be my honor and pleasure, Lord Sieh.” This from the black-haired woman. “We could begin with a wardrobe.”
I snorted in amusement, liking her already. “Of course.”
Remath continued. “I have also informed my daughter Shahar that you are now her primary responsibility. For the duration of your time here in Sky, she is to obey you as she would me and see to your comfort at any cost.”
Wait. I frowned, turning back to Remath at last. The expression on Remath’s face—or rather, the intent lack of expression—made it clear that she knew full well what she had just done. The shocked look that Shahar threw at her back confirmed it.
“Let me be sure I understand you,” I said slowly. “You’re offering me your daughter to do with as I please.” I glanced at Shahar again, who was beginning to look murderous. “What if it pleases me to kill her?”
“I would prefer that you not do so, naturally.” Remath delivered this with sculptured calm. “A good heir represents a substantial investment of time and energy. But she is Arameri, Lord Sieh, and our fundamental mission has not changed since the days of our founding Matriarch. We rule by the grace of the gods; therefore, we serve the gods in all things.”
Shahar threw me a look more raw than anything I’d seen since her childhood, full of betrayal and bitterness and helpless fury. Ah—now that was the Shahar I remembered. Not that this was as terrible as she seemed to think; our oath meant she had nothing to fear from me. Had she told Remath about that? Was Remath counting on a childhood promise to keep her heir safe?
No. I had lived among the Arameri for a hundred generations. I had seen how they raised their children with careful, calculated neglect; that was why Shahar and Dekarta had been left to wander the palace as children. They believed any Arameri stupid enough to die in a childhood accident was too stupid to rule. And I had also seen, again and again, how Arameri heads found ways to test their heirs’ strength, even at the cost of their heirs’ souls.
This, however… I felt my fists clench and had to work hard not to become the cat. Too dangerous, and a waste of magic.
“How dare you.” It came out a snarl, anyway. “You think I’m some petty, simpleminded mortal, delighting in the chance to turn the tables? You think I need someone else’s humiliation to know my own worth? You think I’m like you?”
Remath lifted an eyebrow. “Given that mortals are made in the gods’ image, no, I think we are like you.” That infuriated me into silence. “But very well; if it doesn’t please you to use Shahar, then don’t. Tell her what will please you. She’ll see it done.”
“And is this to take precedence over my other duties, Mother?” Shahar’s voice was as cool as Remath’s, though higher pitched; they sounded much alike. But the fury in her eyes could have melted glass.
Remath glanced over her shoulder and seemed pleased by her daughter’s anger. She nodded once, as if to herself. “Yes, until I inform you otherwise. Morad, please make certain Shahar’s secretary is informed.” Morad murmured a polite affirmative, while Remath kept watching Shahar. “Have you any questions, Daughter?”
“No, Mother,” Shahar replied quietly. “You’ve made your wishes quite clear.”
“Excellent.” In what I considered a brave gesture, Remath turned her back on her daughter and faced me again. “One more thing, Lord Sieh. Rumors are inevitable, but I would advise that you not make your presence—or rather, your nature—known during your time here. I’m sure you can imagine what sort of attention that would draw.”
Yes, every scrivener and godphile in the palace would drive me to distraction with questions and worship and requests for blessings. And since this was Sky, there would also be the inevitable highbloods who wanted a little godly assistance with whatever schemes they had going, and a few who might try to harm or exploit me to gain prestige for themselves, and… I ground my teeth. “Obviously it would make sense for me to keep a low profile.”