9.

Arienne wandered the streets of Anebrilith, head down. The anger had finally passed but in its wake had lumbered an aphotic and cloying bitterness tinged with hatred. Envy siphoned away her rationality and she entertained a number of vicious scenarios involving Erissa. Her stride stopped short as a devious thought entered her mind.

"Ellear," she said wickedly, and hurried back to Caedron Hall. She slipped quietly inside and emerged again in a few moments, having informed Shayla she was ill. Arienne walked swiftly to her home and flung open the door. Words and phrases churned in her mind as she gathered her writing supplies. A quick sweep of her arm sent the various items on her table crashing to the floor. Hours later, she was surrounded by crumpled papers. She fingered her latest page sensuously and read it several times through.

"...how great a dishonor your daughter brings to your house... you have allowed her to act with such disregard, or perhaps this affair has managed to elude you... assure you it has not eluded us... for your own benefit I urge you to end this before it goes too far..." Arienne nodded as she scanned the letter once again. "If I can't have him, Erissa, then neither can you. How many times has your father spoke with such pride about his bloodline and his place at the in the government of Anebrilith? Crafty elf... when power shifted to Eluriand his peers chased it, leaving a void he labors to fill. He will not easily be robbed of it. If only you realized how much a servant girl from Underwood really knows."

From the old chest she removed a piece of ribbon that bore an official wax seal. She gently rolled the letter and secured it with the ribbon she'd taken from Ellear's study. With a carefully controlled flame in the palm of her hand, she slightly warmed the wax and mended the break until it was almost impossible to distinguish. She immediately chilled it in her other hand.

"I knew I would find a good purpose for this," she muttered as she eyed her work on the seal. After an attempt at sleep, Arienne hurried to Caedron Hall. With the scroll tucked away, she began her first meal duties. This day, she prepared a cold breakfast, and as Ellear, Shayla and Erissa arrived in the dining room, she served them from elegant silver platters. The silver clinked and clattered as she struggled to quell her trembling; the excitement was almost too much for her. Retreating to the corner near the serving cart, she relished her next few moves as she rehersed them in her mind.

Rarely was there conversation among the three and breakfast progressed quickly with Ellear leafing through thin parchment that bore the latest news from around Althanas. As she did every morning, Erissa left to clean and prepare her looms while Arienne cleared the table and removed the plates to the kitchen for washing. Shayla freshened herself and left the hall for her social calls, and Ellear retired to his study, preparing for his day's work. Like clockwork, Arienne thought.

Her heart pounded as she left the kitchen and lightly treaded down the hallway toward Ellear's study. With scroll in hand, she tapped lightly on the doorframe.

"What is it! Why do you disturb me?" He asked sharply.

"A letter has been delivered for you," Arienne answered.

"From whom," he asked angrily.

"A cloaked figure, High Elf is my guess, who would not show but the bottom half of his face," she replied, making sure the wax seal was visable as she displayed the scroll for him to see.

"Bring it here," Ellear said, eyebrow cocked, "and be on your way." Arienne set the scroll lightly before him at his ornate yew desk and retreated to the hallway. She let her footsteps echo for a time, but then she jogged back as fleet-footed and silent as a rabbit. She leaned just close enough to the doorframe she could not been seen but could hear clearly. Snap went the seal, followed by the whispery voice of parchment being unrolled. A long silence ensued but was broken with a loud thud.

"Unacceptable!" Ellear growled. "Indeed I will take care of this." Knowing her cue, Arienne jogged lightly and without sound back into the kitchen. After a few moments to catch her breath, she stepped back into the hallway and walked slowly toward Erissa's looms.

"Servant!" Came the cry from behind her. "Come here now," Ellear called to her. Arienne obeyed and closed the gap between them, eyes averted. "You say you did not see the messenger's face," he began.

"No," Arienne replied, stomach writhing itself into knots. Moment of truth...

"Anything that would distinguish him that you can recall?" He asked.

"No, my lord," she said, and Ellear scoffed. Tapping the scroll against his other hand he gave Arienne a sidelong, calculating glare.

"Tell me now what you know of that hireling, the man Virlas," he commanded. "Have you witnessed any inappropriate behavior between my daughter and that mercenary?" Arienne remained quiet, mouth open as her eyes darted back and forth. "Out with it!"

"No, nothing, my lord. Nothing at all," she said, keeping her eyes averted as she fidgited. Arienne saw the blow coming but did not fend it off; the back-handed slap rocked her back on her heels and onto her rear.

"You dare lie to me? You are protecting her!" Anger burned fiercely in his eyes and his hand was aflame, poised above her ready to strike.

She sobbed and flinched from him. The flame flashed a brilliant electric blue in Ellear's hand before it disappeared altogether.

"Get out of my sight," he growled. Arienne fled from him, but her demeanor changed radically as she stepped into her quarters. She shrugged off the furtive visage of a servant and looked into the mirror, head held high and shoulders cast back. I am powerful, she told herself. Not to be trifled with... I will have my revenge. Ellear had been more forceful that she'd hoped, but she could easily lie to explain the bruise that was already forming. Arienne made her way to Erissa's looms, reminding herself it was once again time to play the part of servant.