Page 8 of Oracle's Reign
“Yes.” Peroen tried to understand why she would be relieved that he playedgohtadar. Most members of his father’s court saw the arts as something that should be done by others for their pleasure. They couldn’t understand finding pleasure in the creation itself.
Yslie was silent for a moment, and he realized she had expected him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she gave him another prompt. “I hope to hear you perform while I am in Kalitalo.”
He recognized what she was doing now. He had seen a few members of the Emperor’s Will use such techniques when sent to serve a member of the court. They would say just enough that the courtier didn’t feel like they were monologuing, turning everything into an invitation for more boasts. Did Yslie think that was who he was? A man who wanted that sort of attention?
“I don’t perform.”
She flinched slightly at his curtness, and he wanted to curse himself. Snapping at her wouldn’t show her that he wasn’t like those courtiers. Peroen searched for something to say, some way to soften his reaction.
Despite how easily they had spoken in the back room, before they knew each other’s names, this conversation proved harder than the ones with the other two oracles. With them, Peroen barely needed to talk. They molded themselves into the form they thought would most likely win them the title of empress, then flaunted their suitability.
Yslie, in contrast, hid herself. She tried to become nothing more than a blank canvas upon which Peroen could display himself. Too bad he preferred to sit behind the easel.
“Why did you come to Kalitalo?” he asked, the question escaping before he could censor himself.
She flushed. “I’d . . . I’d rather not say.”
Peroen pressed his lips together. What had he expected? He should be thankful she had been honest enough to refuse to answer rather than giving him some platitude.
Fire and hell. He knew the answer. The four oracles wanted nothing to do with him. They had traveled to the city to become empress. Only, that answer didn’t fit. Not for Yslie. Whatever her reason was, it had nothing to do with gaining the title for herself. Her desires would be the last thing she factored into the decision.
He had to ignore the pull he felt toward her, the conviction that she complemented him perfectly. He didn’t yet know the full breadth of the palette that made up Yslie’s personality, and he couldn’t fall for the illusion his mind created with only a limited sample. It didn’t matter that after a single evening, even without taking into account their conversation in the back room, he thought Yslie was the oracle who most suited him. Peroen would rather be a stepping stone for his wife’s ambition than the altar upon which she sacrificed herself.
