“Guest for you,” he said, gruffly.
My heart jumped. I stood, smoothing my skirt and grabbing the beads from the near table. “Who is it?”
“I thought she’d asked for me,” a low and unfamiliar voice responded from outside of the door. My heart sank, and I didn’t want to think why. “Are you sure these are the right rooms?”
“His name is Master Theollan,” Wainstrill supplied. “He’s one of them Brothers. Are you expecting a Brother?”
My interest spiked back, and I hooked the beads over my ears. “Yes, of course. Please send him in.”
The man stepped into my room, his nose immediately wrinkling. I should have thought of that. The combination of a dragon and raw meat had the place smelling somewhere between a butcher's shop and a barn, hardly the best recipe for a man of the Scentlands. Though, I hadn’t expected him to appear within days of my discussion with Seth.
I stepped forwards, dropping into a curtsy. “Master Theollan. I did not expect you so soon.”
He took me in from head to toe, and I made the same assessment of him. He wore well-fitted riding boots, sturdy leggings, and a purple tunic indicative of his ties to Lavendell. His white hair, signalling his status even a mile away, was nearly as long as my own and braided halfway down his back. He bore no facial Mark, for his Fated condition still sat unmet.
Theollan’s Fate was bestowed shortly after I arrived at the Brotherhood, so he must be around nine years my elder. He was attractive but stern, with a face reminiscent of a bird of prey with a widow’s peak and narrow cheekbones.
“I just arrived,” he said, his own study of me clearly not what he was expecting. “The King’s Advisor suggested you were eager to meet with me. I must admit I am at a loss as to why.”
“The King’s Advisor spoke true, though I did not expect you for some days yet.”
“I was travelling from Manniston and was not fifty miles from the city when the messenger found me.”
“How fortunate.”
“Quite,” he said, wrinkling his nose once more.
“If you are not too weary, shall we take some air in the gardens?”
He nodded, his stance visibly relaxing. It must have been worse than I thought, or his scent sensitivity was greater than most. “As you wish, my lady.”
Theollan followed me out into the small empty gardens. It was warm, reaching the point where the sun was its most evil, burning the flesh before the truth of its heat became apparent.
I walked over to the lifeless pond, and then turned to him. “Master Theollan, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
I offered him my bare hand, and he took it, lowering his head in the imitation of a kiss on the knuckles, though his lips did not meet my skin. But his hand was bare, too, and I felt all of his emotions.
At the surface of him, curiosity warred with suspicion. His curiosity must have won out, to have brought him this far, but I sensed an unease there. It was bigger than me; he was uneasy being in the city, maybe even in the kingdom. There was something he distrusted, a wide level of prickling uncertainty. However, beneath it, there was a sturdy foundation, his mind was a lake with few ripples. He had honed it intentionally, focusing himself to be aware of the follies of every outcome and, by such knowledge, was made unflappable in the face of them.
Theollan was a man of great thinking and reflection, one not keen for risk, but intrigued by the knowledge that could be wrought from adventure. He reminded me of Groulin, and also, to an extent, of Seth.
He narrowed his eyes and dropped my hand. “The pleasure is all mine. Though, I cannot understand why a woman from the Soundlands would have any interest in the Brothers. I thought you hated us.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
This seemed to surprise him, and he looked around the garden as if expecting some audience. “This does little to ease my confusion.”
I allowed myself a moment to collect my thoughts. Glancing down at the pool in the short silence, I wondered what Yvon was doing right now. My skin prickled under the heat, as if remembering the cold of the forest. Even now it would be cool and shaded under the great boughs of the trees.
I returned my gaze to Theollan, choosing my words with care. “The King’s Advisor, one of your kind, told me of some of the Fated Brothers of Eavenfold. You were included, since he was imminently sending for you. I found your story interesting and wanted to hear it from you.”
He squinted in the sun. His skin looked more used to it than most, or at least, he did not hide from its beating intensity. For a Scentlander, he was actually quite tanned. I would have guessed him from the Barrow, much like the cook had guessed me. “You asked to meet me, to satisfy your curiosity?”
“In part, yes,” I replied, truthfully. In this, I believed, we might find a common understanding.
“And what about me aroused your particular fancy?”
“You are an oddity,” I said. “One of the few Fated who are neither full, nor Broken.”