However, if she did so, as Lady of the South Carolina Elven demesne, she would draw all manner of attention to herself. If she was intent upon a mission of some privacy, she could potentially do more harm than good.

The two women appeared to be arguing. With a sharp downward slice of one hand, Bel brought the conversation to a close. “That’s quite enough, Lianne,” she said aloud. “You and Alana must do as you’re told. I’ll return as soon as I possibly can.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lianne said. The younger Elven woman’s frustration was evident in the glowering glance she gave Graydon. Lianne shrugged out of her cloak. “At least take this so you can try to be less conspicuous.”

Bel attempted to refuse it. “You need the protection. It’s too cold for you.”

“Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll find another cloak.”

Stepping forward, Graydon took the cloak from Lianne’s grasp. As both women turned to him, he told Bel, “She’s right. You need the anonymity the cloak will bring you. Let her help you by allowing her to look after herself.”

Bel’s mouth tightened, while Lianne’s resentful frown turned into an expression of grudging approval.

After a moment, Bel gave a short nod. As Graydon held the cloak for her, she turned her back to him so he could settle it onto her shoulders.

She said to the other woman, “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can hopefully come back. Make sure Alanna knows what to do, should Calondir inquire as to my whereabouts. If my absence is discovered before I can return, tell people I felt unwell and had to leave.”

Although Graydon could see acquiescence was difficult for Lianne, the younger woman nodded and turned to hurry away down the path.

Then he forgot about the other woman as Bel turned to face him.

Moving with care, he reached for the hood, pulled it over her head and ran his gaze down her slim figure. She asked, “What do you think? Will it do?”

The cloak was well made and warm. It was also a plain and discreet black, and it covered her face and form completely. With her face tilted up to his, he could make out her shadowed eyes, a hint of angled cheekbone, and the tilt to her nose, but someone standing a short distance to either side of him wouldn’t be able to see anything.

But the cloak did absolutely nothing to disguise either her physical scent or her elegant, distinctive Power.

He told her in perfect honesty, “It might hide your identity from a casual observer, but it won’t hide anything from someone who knows you, or who is sensitive to Power. And it won’t do a thing to stop a Wyr who might catch your scent.”

There was a slight pause, as she absorbed his words. “Well,” she said heavily, “it will have to do.” From within the depth of the hood, she seemed to search his gaze. “Will you still accompany me?”

“Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t leave you now for the world.”

As he offered his arm to her again, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Together, they strode for the nearest exit.

She switched back to telepathy. Perhaps once we’re out of the Gardens, we’ll be able to hire a hansom. I don’t want to use any of our carriages.

A medusa with an Orc guard approached. He waited until they had walked past the Demonkind pair before he replied, If you think you can stomach a ride through the air, I can shapeshift and carry you. It would be more discreet than renting a hansom. It would also get us to Malfeasance much faster, but I’m told flying isn’t to everybody’s taste.

The opening of her hood turned toward him, and her hand tightened. She replied, I think that would be absolutely marvelous. Thank you.

A glow of warmth spread through him. I could shapeshift now and attempt to cloak it, but there are so many creatures present that have either a great deal of Power, or sensitivity to it. I would rather not risk exposing you.

No, you’re quite right to be careful. Her hood shifted as she turned to look ahead. Almost as if speaking to herself, she continued, I would love to fly. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have that sense of freedom.

A wistful note in her voice tugged at something deep inside him. He replied, I couldn’t conceive of living without it. I can’t imagine being forever grounded.

No, I don’t suppose you can.

They were almost at the gate.

He really didn’t want to say what he was about to say. In fact, he had to fight himself to say anything at all.

Quietly, he told her, If you could trust me enough with the reason why you need to go to Malfeasance, I could make the trip on your behalf. It would save you the risk of possible exposure. No one need ever know.

Calondir, he meant. Calondir need never know.

Because, while Bel had not explicitly said so in his hearing, it had become abundantly clear to Graydon that she didn’t want Calondir to know anything of what was happening.

Having once acknowledged that truth, he dug further inside himself, trying to ascertain how he felt about keeping a secret from Bel’s husband.

All he could remember was the scene beside the dance floor, with Calondir dancing and laughing with a costumed woman while just a short distance away, Bel stood tight with suppressed misery.

And, he realized, he was perfectly fine with keeping any number of secrets from Calondir.

Any number of secrets at all.

There were implications in that thought, serious ones that he needed to consider, but all his focus remained on her. He would have time enough to think things over when he was alone again.

She had paused for so long, he thought she might not answer him.

Then she said softly, Thank you so much for your generous offer, but it isn’t a matter of whether or not I can trust you. This is about someone else, and whether or not he would listen to anything you had to say.