Harvest Festival was coming soon. Sylvia stood over the table looking at the list of preparations. Servants went about their tasks, brushing down the floor and reaching into corners with brooms, changing out tapers, and setting along baskets of harvest time flowers. The days were cooling and a low fire in the long fireplace was kept going most hours of the day and well into the night. Stone from one wall had the seeping heat of the sun on bright days, but the other wall had only corridors and deeper sets of stone. Chill came swift to the large room.

"M'lady," Keefe came up to her side. He only glanced to the papers she reviewed. "I wanted to talk about-"

Sylvia drew up her hand and cut him short. "I know what you want to talk about, Keefe. I appreciate the history and tradition of this land, but Aidan is too young yet. I have said so before, and I will not change my mind even if he is going to stay with his Uncle. The year before Cian is to take his place as Baron in full, then Aidan will go."

Keefe bowed his head, though Sylvia could tell he wished to argue. His mouth was so tightly clenched that the rim of his lips turned white. Turning back to the lists before her, she continued on, "I see you are including Cian in the tallying of the taxes. I am glad. I think he has the ability to truly appreciate the meaning of it this year and participate."

"Yes, m'lady. He has been practicing various phrases of gratitude while we are on our rides." Keefe stepped around to face her on the opposite side of the table. "How many guests this year?"

"A few more than last year. One of the lords out of Briggara, Lord Brac Eiriansson, is bringing his family. I found it particularly odd." She looked to Keefe for further explanation.

"Awstin has interest in the new endeavors at sea, I think, and has sent Brac to investigate under the guise of her ladyship needing the sea air for her health."

Sylvia pressed fingertips at her brows and sighed. "You would think we were up to some great clandestine venture. Still, it should be, outside of their inquiries, a fine festival. Many of the merchants have had a good year and a few of the traveling players have made it to the city in time."

"And will Ewan be participating in the games again?" Keefe grinned.

A soft laugh, she felt the lack of his presence even this early in the season. "No, not this year. Probably best for the other competitors. Perhaps Gaerwyn will hold up that family's tradition. What of your family, Keefe? Is not your brother coming early before the joining ceremony?"

The familiar nervous grin trembled on the man's lips. "Yes, he will. I should encourage him to take part."

Sylvia nodded and at the approach of Lord Gethryn, started to gather the papers together. "Now, it is time to see these plans finalized." And she left the man in his brewing thoughts, staring at the now blank table before him. Sylvia could not help but smile. Lyana had that look at times as well. She wondered if she had once upon time and greeted Lord Gethryn with that very amused smile.

"You know how strongly I disagree with this. Is it even worth the time discussing it?"

The old green velveteen chair crinkled as Sylvia sat back. She had not expected Ewan to be entirely supportive, but she had hoped he would be open to talking through his objections. "Yes, I think there is."

The room held their silence, balancing each moment before Ewan griped the back of the chair between them. He still did not sit, but slowly the whitened fingertips flushed with blood again.

Anxious concerns showed on his face. There were years and old pains that sneaked scars past the short beard and dusted early grey strands in his hair. She wondered if her face and hair showed the same to others. Did her eyes blend them out and see her only as she had been? Perhaps it was that age in her that he saw fueling his concerns. Or, and the more likely, it was the circlet of dowager baroness. She did not wear it in Rhydin, but its weight and its restrictions seemed to remain.

A promise made, perhaps to himself, that Ewan would not see her go to harm as he had allowed Kieran. But things had to change. Age might not have painted along her skin or hair as yet, but it was in her thoughts and her heart. It was not her youth she wished to recapture, but purpose.

"Ewan," she began, "I am aware of the risks -- the full risks. I once feared without me Cian lose more than a parent, but the last thing his father left to his care: Yransea."

"This has not changed with his nearing to the claim of the seat fully. There are years to go in that."

"But I offer him no guidance restricted as I am. I wish to show him, as Kieran did, but I cannot do that in Yransea." She held up a hand, though she noted Ewan had made no indication he would interrupt. "I have no mind to upturn every tradition in Palendies by altering my duties. I have to be a guide for Beata as well. But I grow empty inside, Ewan, and too much I see the eyes like those of my father's court. To what purpose am I? I have a skill, and I will use it when in Rhydin."

The silence rested between them once more. A robin in the tree outside the window made a song, mixing with the noises of recruits in the yard calling out their jibes and cheers at practice. The children were in the orchard in the back, no doubt challenging each other to climb an apple tree faster than the other.

Ewan's gaze was distant. She did not press him. When his attention drew back to her, he sighed and his head lowered. "It would make no sense for you and I to share patrols. If you are determined to take up a routine of duties with the Holding Houses, then you will be matched with Pei -- no other."

"It seems an unkind pressure to place upon her."

"At least she would know of it. At least she has the ability to fulfill the unspoken duty. I would not set it upon anyone else. You wish to be just another mercenary in this world, but you know that cannot be so. You made that choice years ago. Your family and your friends may live their lives without concern to consequences, but you know full well you may not. You set yourself apart by your decision, and you cannot change the rules now because you find it so confining." Ewan's words came cold and clear to her. He employed no art of his, nor did he dance around her feelings. It was as she had hoped to hear from him.

"What would you rather I do? Patrol the warehouses on my own as I did before? The Holding Houses are more effective and sensible, I should think."

Ewan shook his head. He knew where she was leading and was not to follow. "Pei. Or if Storm is to take up patrols, then you will be in the group with her. Those two alone I trust to remind you of your obligations to the world of your children -- your blood."

It was to be his way or not at all, and Sylvia did not delude herself into thinking she could keep work in Rhydin secret from Ewan. "Very well."

"Very well."