Free Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

and set it out on the bed.
    “That’s what he says, but it isn’t what he truly thinks. He is sure that if I have more incentive, I can do it.” She held up her hands to express her frustration. “What’s left for me to do?”
    “If you don’t want to try to summon up such a Shadowshow, then perhaps you’d be willing to help someone else try,” said Rygnee.
    “Who?” The question was deliberately blunt. “All the Court magicians are as much politicians as they are talented. They all have their allies and causes within the Court, and they all want to cast blame on someone other than their associates.” Erianthee gave a short, hard sigh. “They have all offered to lend their talents to my efforts but I’ve refused, of course.”
    “Why should you refuse their help?” Rygnee asked.
    “Because that wouldn’t be the end of it, and the results would be tainted. Eventually the Emperor would cease to trust me, and then who knows what would become of us?” Erianthee answered. “Once I had achieved even the semblance of a prophetic Shadowshow, Riast would expect me to try again, to enlarge on anything the Shadowshow had manifested, and to produce better results, and he would act upon what he saw. He has already said he’s asking his Court magicians to help strengthen my visions. I think most of their willingness to offer me their help has come either directly or indirectly from him.”
    Rygnee frowned, stopping her work. “Would that include Yulko Bihn?”
    “I assume so,” said Erianthee, her tone expressionless. “He hasn’t spoken to me directly, but given his position here at Court – “
    “That would be . . . a shame,” said Rygnee.
    “Yes. I want to think no one in my family would be under his influence ever again.” Erianthee appeared in the doorway. “I’ve been hoping that if the Dowager Empress will continue to take my part in this, that in time the Emperor will realize what he demands is beyond my talents to provide. She may convince him where I have failed to do so. He still seems to think that I can will a prophetic Shadowshow to happen.” She was about to go on when there was a rap on the door. Erianthee sighed and called to Rygnee, “I’ll get it,” then went to answer the summons, preparing herself to see the Emperor.
    “Erianthee. Please. Let me in.” Kloveon of Fauthsku stood in the doorway, his deep-red Limurgan-satin clothes dusty, one square sleeve rent for half its length. His face was haggard and his knuckles were bleeding and bruised, and there was a new red mark over his left eye that would blacken in a day or two.
    Although she was stunned, Erianthee held the door wide for him and tugged him into her sitting-room. “Kloveon!” she exclaimed as though emerging from a disturbing dream. “What by the Six Founder Gods and Goddesses happened?” She realized she was more worried for him than she supposed she could be.
    He stumbled to the nearest chair and sank into it without any of his habitual courtesy. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who might . . . might take me in. Not anyone I trust, that is. I don’t mean to make things difficult for you.” He dropped his head into his hands. “The last thing I want is to bring my enemies down on you, but – “
    ”What happened?” Erianthee repeated, then raised her voice. “Rygnee, will you go down to the Empress’ kitchen and ask for a bottle of their best Udugan wine, and a loaf of nut-bread?”
    Rygnee appeared in the bedroom door – she took in all she saw without comment. “Just the wine and the bread? Nothing else?”
    “Anything else might create comment, and that’s something we should avoid. I think it wisest if Kloveon’s presence here is not bruited about,” said Erianthee, glad that she could rely upon her personal maid to be discreet. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mirkal?”
    Kloveon nodded, muttering, “Don’t want you exposed to it.”
    “And if the Emperor should come?” Rygnee