Gryph could still taste Sariana's mouth. His body was still pulsing painfully with the instant response he had experienced when he'd caught hold of her and kissed her. For a moment during the embrace he had known without a doubt that he had touched her in ways that were not just physical in nature. And she had responded.
Shieldmate.
He was certain of that now. He had found a potential Shieldmate. A woman he could make his true wife. A woman who could give him a son. The knowledge dazed him. The thought of her going off to spend the warm, lazy morning with another man sent a rush of frustrated heat and rage through his veins.
The realization that the other male was undoubtedly far more socially acceptable to Sariana than Gryph would ever be was enough to ruin the rest of the day for him.
Chapter 3
Two days later, Sariana left for another engagement with Etion Rakken, This time she was meeting him for late morning tea. Such outings were always welcomed by her. Lately, however, with the pressures of dealing with the Shield, the Avylyns' upcoming ball, as well as the demands of her normal schedule, Sariana was more grateful than ever for the brief moments of escape.
The early summer sunshine warmed the wide stone sidewalks and the cobbled streets of downtown Serendipity. Sariana was accustomed to the boisterous, outrageously dressed crowds that thronged the squares and avenues of the capital. In her elegantly restrained attire she was the one who stood out.
Pausing near one of the many sparkling fountains that graced virtually every comer of the city, Sariana prepared to cross the street. She was getting better at the deceptively simple task but she still exercised caution. Lifting her skirts she stepped off the sidewalk. And was nearly run down by a dragonpony being ridden at full speed.
"By the Captain's Blood, lady, watch where you're going," the pony rider yelled cheerfully as he thundered past. The pony's clawed feet scraped on the stones mere inches from Sariana's boots.
"Here, now. Where did you come from?" shouted a wagonmaster as he sawed at the reins. The wagon swerved around Sariana with a dramatic nourish.
Sariana lifted her chin and ignored both close calls. She had learned that only cool arrogance, a fine disdain for danger and the ability to calculate distances with great precision guaranteed a safe crossing. Carriage drivers and riders tended to view the contest between themselves and pedestrians as a glorious,
endless game.
Sariana prided herself on not having yet sunk to the point of swearing at the flamboyant drivers and riders who challenged her right to cross the streets. There were times, however, when she wondered how much longer she could restrain herself under the trying conditions. She had lived in the Avylyn household long enough to acquire a wide assortment of colorful phrases.
She dreaded the day she would start using those phrases because it would mean she had allowed herself to be dragged one step deeper into this crazy culture.
She made it across the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a teenager on a high spirited dragonpony, and saw with relief that Etion Rakken was waiting for her in the usual spot. His deep red hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes regarded her with genuine appreciation as she walked toward him. He was sitting under an awning at a popular sidewalk cafe.
Rakken was wearing a version of the local masculine fashion. It wasn't quite as colorful as the attire of the males around him, but neither was it as severely tailored as what he would have worn back in Rendezvous. Etion liked to say he had adapted to the local culture. Sariana sometimes feared the changes in him had gone even deeper. Etion had given up all thought of going home.
Today he had on a dark brown frockcoat, a beribboned white shirt and yellow breeches and hose. Sariana risked a discreet glance downward to see if Etion had taken to wearing a codpiece yet. She was relieved to discover he had not. There was still hope for him, she thought with wry humor.
Sariana smiled brilliantly for the first time that day as she exchanged greetings and took the seat beside Etion. He had already ordered tea and a plate of pretty little cakes for her. She couldn't help but notice, however, that he was on his second mug of ale. A year ago he had kept his drinking limited to the evenings. But sometime during the past few months he had started ordering ale at luncheon. Now he was starting in on the ale at mid-morning tea. The knowledge disturbed her. Etion was changing. To take her mind off that unhappy thought she picked up her teapot and examined it with an admiring eye.
It seemed to Sariana that nothing in the western provinces was ever plain or merely functional. The westerners loved decoration, the more elaborate, the better. The tea Etion had requested had arrived in a beautiful little pot designed to look like a wedding coach, and every centimeter of the cakes on her plate was frosted with fancy swirls and patterns.
"You look most charming today, Sariana. A very elegant, cool and serene little lightbird among all these mad, fluttering, squawking keenshees. How are you?"
"A bit frazzled to tell you the truth." Sariana wished very badly that she could confide completely in Etion. He already knew just about everything there was to know about the Avylyn family finances. He might as well know about the missing prisma cutter and the hired Shield, too.
But she couldn't betray the Avylyns' confidence. They were frantic about getting the cutter back. They were also adamant that no one outside the immediate family know the scandalous truth. The hiring of Gryph Chassyn and the reason why were to remain dark secrets within the household.
"You don't know how good it is to see you today, Etion. It's been the usual madhouse at the Avylyns for the past few days, especially with the annual costume ball coming up soon. I had no idea of the enormity of the event when I agreed to budget for it."
"I warned you. Nobody here entertains in a casual fashion. I suppose Lady Avylyn wants to spend three times as much as you have allowed?"
"At least. Etion, nobody in that family has any concept of economy or financial prudence. It's a wonder the Clan has survived this long."
Etion grinned cheerfully, his handsome face crinkling into fine lines at the comers of his eyes. Rakken was several years older than Sariana. There was a touch of distinguished gray in his red hair. He had been one of the first people from the eastern continent to make the trip across the ocean when contact had been reestablished between toe two groups of colonists. He had arrived nearly five years earlier and had stayed.
Rakken's prowess in banking and his sophisticated business education had given him a strong edge over the local competition, most of whom had only a primitive concept of economics and finance. There had been no business clans on board The Serendipity. The descendants of those first colonists had been