Galen’s greeting was warm enough, Irenya thought, though she detected a guarded disappointment. She assumed he’d not exactly embraced the news of her return. While Faylis raved, Galen quietly set about retuning the cirayla. Irenya pretended not to notice.
They had been practising long enough to rehearse three songs when a page appeared, a chubby nervous youngster with a stutter, new to Ilkyrie, Irenya thought. He carried a message for her. The note was from Elaaron and he wanted her to attend him in his study. She knew the way to his tower but dutifully followed the boy up the stairs. Inside the main apartment, Kiel led her to a room she had not seen before. Elaaron looked up from the organised chaos before him. He rose and stepped away from the desk.
‘Irenya, please sit.’ He directed he
