KINSMAN’S OATH By Susan Krinard

Cynara was gathering a reply when Elendra sailed into the room. She was fine-boned and petite, like Mother, with Zurine’s dark beauty as yet unobscured by the veil.

“Cynara!” she cried, and then drew upon her adolescent dignity. “I am glad to see you. Have you come to witness my veiling?”

It was a reasonable assumption for anyone who did not know Cynara well. But Elendra had taken after Mother. She refused to accept what did not accord with her view of the world.

‘The Pegasus has just returned,” Cynara said gently. “I don’t know when we’ll be leaving again. I may not be able to stay, Sister. I am sorry.”

The lightness left Elendra’s bearing. “It is my veiling, Cyn! How can you—” She scrubbed furiously at her eyes, displaying a last hint of childhood spirit. “You don’t care about me!”

“Stop that at once, Elendra,” Zurine snapped. “You will ruin your complexion.”

Cynara met Zurine’s hidden gaze. “It would not be advisable for me to stay, El. I wouldn’t be welcomed by your guests.”

“Because you’re not a real woman.” Elendra stopped, shocked at her own pronouncement. “I… I—”

“Never mind, El. Most of Dharma would agree with you.”

Elendra flushed. “Do not call me El ever again. It is Elendra. Elendra D’Accorso-fila.”

“Be silent!” Zurine cried.

Elendra lowered her hands and grew very quiet. She, at least, was biddable. A proper female who knew her place, and what the future held in store for her.

“I came to give my respects, Mother,” Cynara said. “Now I will leave you.”

“You will not.” Casnar entered the room without hesitation, for the lord of the house considered even the Women’s Hall his own. ‘Tonight we have guests, Cynara. It would appear most peculiar if you left almost as soon as you arrived—as if we did not support the work you do on the Pegasus and the great hope it brings to Dharma and our allies.”

“Does that consideration outweigh the shame of my tainted presence?”

Tyr’s voice. It must be Tyr, returning to support her and face Father’s anger.

Perhaps Casnar recognized it as well. His expression registered disgust and then confusion as he joined Zurine beside the chaise.

“I cannot expect you to remember manners when you’re among riffraff and foreigners, but you will watch your tongue in this house. And you will attend us at dinner.”

“Veiled, Casnar.” Zurine grasped his sleeve, a familiarity permitted only a wife of many years. “She must wear a veil.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Cynara said. “I won’t.”

“Then you are not welcome at our table.”

“Zurine.” Casnar shook her off and turned to Cynara. ‘Tyr would have dined with us tonight.”

She knew exactly what he proposed. She would be permitted to sit at the table with his guests—doubtless men of influence whom he had courted with great skill and diplomacy to overlook the stain upon the D’Accorso honor—and reinforce his efforts to consolidate D’Accorso power. Unlike Tyr, she would not be allowed to let her authority and rank speak for itself.

“I will not wear the veil,” she said.

Casnar beat at her with his stare. “Perhaps it might interest you to know that Fico Nyle Beneviste and his parents will be among our guests.”

Never in a thousand tides would Cynara have expected her former betrothed to visit this house again, or for Casnar to use him as an argument against her. Did he think her shame so great that she would feel compelled to don the veil in Nyle’s presence?

“You cannot believe he will wish to see me, Father.”

“I will be able to show his father that your actions have not in any way weakened House D’Accorso; to the contrary, the Pegasus brings great prestige to us and to our allies. Your presence will also remind Fico Beneviste that the breaking of your betrothal was essential for the well-being of himself and his family.”

Cynara felt as if she’d been slapped. “He has known since shortly after I left Dharma that marriage was impossible. Why does he need further evidence?”

“They have not seen you since you took up the captaincy. Any lingering doubts or resentment on his family’s part will be laid to rest, and our future alliance will be secured once more.” He placed his hand on the back of the chaise like an ancient emperor posing for a state portrait. “You owe this debt, Cynara. You will pay it.”

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