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Until then, you will remain our guest. Medair had no objection. She wanted to leave this room of Ibisians, and the thing she had just done, behind her. They will discuss you, of course. She turned the strap over and over between her fingers, surprised at how little she felt. Only exhaustion. Your Kier will not want me free to roam.
She snorted. The cold blood is dominant, in this world. Mix-bloods are born almost as Ibisian as you are. She was very distressed. Her home is here and she no longer fits it. The parallel was obvious, but unlike Esta, Medair could no longer call Athere her home. There was no place for a former Imperial Herald. An unpredictable piece on the marrat board, as Avahn had once said, with too much cause to hate to be trusted.
Medair grimaced. He created this legend of Medair which makes my position frankly impossible, and, because he loved hidden meanings, managed to ruin my reputation to top everything off. Does the brilliance of his talent excuse the untruths? There is nothing said outright. I was briefly his lover. He made up the part about his eternal unfulfilled devotion as well.
Not truth, not loyalty, certainly not women. He had a marvellous voice and his songs will be remembered, well, as long as I am. He smiled at her sadly. Do you want me to leave you in peace?
I suppose so. I feel a little…beyond conversation, just now. He bowed and turned before she could respond, as if he were embarrassed by the sincerity behind his words. When the door had closed behind him, Medair drew her knees up beneath her chin and tried to think about her future. That the Kier might try to control her in some way was certainly possible, despite the debt they all owed her. Confine her to the palace, keep her under observation.