Free Sapphire Crescent by Thomas M. Reid Page B

pace, like her uncle was, but she had been told in no uncertain terms to sit down and remain there until she was permitted otherwise. Emriana looked to her mother for some measure of support, but Ladara Matrell was studiously gazing at her own robe, picking at the ornate fabric as the arguing continued. The mousy woman rarely
    stood in the way when her brother-in-law took the role of surrogate father over his dead brother’s children. Emriana despised those times, and this moment was one of them.
    The hour was late, and most members of the Matrell family were already dressed for bed. Only Quindy and Obiron, the eight-year-old twins, were absent. A handful of lanterns sat on the table itself, having been lit by sleepy servants who were roused by Uncle Dregaul when it became clear that a family meeting needed to occur. As such, the full complement of candelabra that hung from chains from the ceiling remained dark, so the spacious chamber was not as brightly cheerful as it might have been during a typical dinner. More than one yawn was carefully hidden behind the palm of a hand.
    “Sometimes, you still act like you’re five,” Uncle Dregaul replied, moving back and forth on the far side of the table from Emriana.
    His voice was like ice, and the thinly veiled anger in his countenance said all that needed to be said to the girl. Sneaking out had been bad enough, but as the rest of the story unfolded and it became clear that she had also disobeyed Vambran’s instructions to stay in the safety of the carriage, Uncle Dregaul’s mien had grown rock-hard. Emriana kept her defiant gaze mostly on her uncle, but she spared a moment or two of scathing glares for her brother, too. His return home for her birthday wasn’t turning out to be quite the thrill she had hoped.
    Vambran sat in another dark chair, the high arch of its back rising over even his tall frame. He stared at nothing, one leg thrown over the chair arm, pinching his lips together with his thumb and forefinger, oblivious to Emriana and obviously deep in thought. She was furious with him for so readily explaining the events of the evening, rather than holding his tongue about her involvement in the escapades. In
    fact, he had seemed bent on making a point of it, trying to get Uncle Dregaul to listen to his concerns about the veracity of the guards, even including the fact that Emriana herself believed she had recognized the dead woman. She doubted seriously if the entire household would even be having the conversation had Dregaul been told only that she had snuck out to ride down to the docks, safely in the carriage, with Prandles there to watch over her. But, of course, he was aware of it all and no doubt contemplating what sort of punishment to inflict on her for her insolence. She hoped that neither Prandles nor Jaleene, her personal maid, would get into trouble for their parts in it. Dregaul had never been adverse to firing house staff for similar shortcomings in the past.
    “Sneaking out of your chambers after I specificallyspecifically!—told you that you were not to ride to the docks with Prandles is bad enough,” Dregaul said, interrupting Emriana’s thoughts and ticking points off on his fingers. “But then to go and get in the middle of such an obviously dangerous situation in an alley in the middle of Arrabar is just plain brainless. Scuffles in alleys with mysterious figures is exactly the reason—exactly!—why I don’t want you roaming around outside the walls. And yet, you don’t have enough sense to see how dangerous it is. And you wonder why I treat you like a child. You act like one, Emriana, a very spoiled one.
    “And you!” Emriana’s uncle said, turning to face her brother. “How could you drag her into the middle of such a situation? You aren’t home an hour, and already you’re mixing it up with the common folk, playing at soldier. What’s the matter with you?”
    “I explained to you already,” Vambran said, his own voice rising in