Free Skirmish: A House War Novel by Michelle West Page A

nominations for regent.”

    Teller rose. “I nominate Gabriel Garriston ATerafin as regent. He has served as right-kin for decades, and he knows the political affiliates of the House, and its internal structure, well. If the office of right-kin becomes the office of Regent, there will be very little disruption in House Business, as seen from the outside.”

    Haerrad drew breath, which usually served as a warning. But Haerrad’s supporter, Sabienne, rose. “I will second that nomination. Gabriel ATerafin has chosen to support no claim to the House Seat; he has made no claim himself. Both of these facts are necessary in any Regent the Council now chooses—and only those who are otherwise very Junior could claim to do neither. The strongest members of this Council cannot take the Regency cleanly—if at all. Gabriel has the experience necessary to guide the House while the Council considers all claimants, and their worth.”

    She sat.

    Haerrad did not speak further, although Jewel imagined there would be many words said after the meeting was at last over.

    Gabriel said, “I will accept the nomination with a clear understanding that when The Terafin is chosen, I will retire.”

    “And if you do not serve as Regent?” Teller asked.

    “I will retire now. A man cannot be right-kin to more than one Lord in his life.”

    It was Teller who now turned to the table, in much the same way. “Gabriel ATerafin as regent,” he said clearly and in a voice Jewel hardly recognized. “Vote.”

Chapter Two

    28th of Corvil, 427 A.A.
The Common, Averalaan

    T HE SIGN ON THE SHOP’S closed door didn’t look promising:
Closed for business due to family emergency.
Jewel hesitated, and glanced briefly at the length of the shadows that now pooled at their feet. Four sets of feet: Avandar’s, hers, Finch’s, and Teller’s. To say she’d had a sleepless night wouldn’t have been entirely accurate, but it was close, and at the moment, she wanted nothing so much as to crawl back into the carriage, out of the carriage, and into her room in the West Wing of the Terafin manse. It was cool in the city, even in the sun, although early morning sun was seldom warm in any season but summer.

    Teller and Finch exchanged a glance; Jewel caught it because she was watching them. They’d clearly learned to rely on each other a lot in her absence; she wondered if either of them was aware of how much.

    “What should we do?” Finch finally asked—this time of Jewel.

    Jewel winced. The idea that the shop would be closed on the sixth day of the week hadn’t even occurred to her.

    “There are other shops,” Teller offered. It was tentative. “We could choose one of them.”

    Not choosing one was not an option. As House Council members, no matter how junior—and although Jewel was young, she was not so junior as all that—they had no choice but to dress “appropriately” for singular and important occasions. Jewel often minded the fuss and the expense,which she considered a colossal waste, given how
many
starving people that money could be used to feed, but not this time.

    This time, she needed funereal clothing for The Terafin, and it was the
last
such display of respect she could give the woman who had saved, and changed, all of their lives.

    For years now, Haval had made—had insisted on making—all of the significant clothing in Jewel’s life. He traded gossip as it pleased him for the custom of House Terafin, as he liked to call it, and she traded the same, probably more recklessly. Haval was slippery, canny, and shrewd. He also disliked emergency work, and as all three of them needed suitable attire before the fourth day of Henden, this was an emergency. It was a costly one, or would be, by the time he was done.

    If he accepted the commission at all.

    Jewel stared at the sign for a long moment, and then she reached up for the bell pull and began to yank at it as if it were a lifeline and she were drowning. She pulled for