*No. I will regain that which I have lost.* He began building up walls within him once more, but this time walls to shut out the weaknesses that had crept into him. It was past time he returned to being who he was and to reclaim his self from whatever was done to him during his captivity. He didn't know what or how he was still under the alhoon's influence, since it was now truly destroyed, but he vowed to make sure he found out and rid himself of it. 

The voice that was him was right on target when it said he was being such a fool of late. Acting against his own philosophies and teachings. Everything he had told himself was true in every respect. He had been throwing away whatever influence he had with his mother. Throwing it all away because he followed his pride, stubbornness, and heart in making his decisions. And it gained him nothing in return. Just pain and suffering, heightened suspicion from his mother, and from everyone else who sought to gain favor from her. All the males, and probably all the females too, were most likely hatching plots and schemes to assist in furthering his fall from grace. It was not everyday one witnessed the means to securing power and status make the noose for their neck AND slip it over their necks. *I guess I will just have to make sure that noose remains slack*, Tull thought wryly as he too began thinking of ways to counter whatever came his direction. 

Now that some of his questions were answered, he thought it time to move on to those still left unanswered and to some new ones his answers had created. It truly felt like he would never get all of his questions solved, but he knew that his life --- his real life --- was almost his again. Only a few more riddles kept him from regaining that and from losing his soul forever. One of those questions was why he spoke in front of his mother the way he did and in front of everyone for that matter. He was correct to see that now as being foolish, reckless, and counter-productive, but he also vaguely remembered how right it felt to him at that moment. A faint wisp of memory showing him that he did nothing wrong. Yet, as he pondered over that hazy thought, Tull knew now that he was very wrong. He believed in the speech he made to his mother. Even the impassioned way he gave it. But he made the mistake of having an audience listening and watching as it happened. Mavralyn's son always prided himself in being able to mask his true feelings and intentions when it came to things that were of importance to him. Only his mother had seen the mask down, and those times were not very often. Tull now wanted, more than ever, to find out and solve whatever made him break that useful habit. Also, he wanted out of the blasted void he was still uncomfortable in, even if it was his own mind. He preferred a much more comfortable environment to think this puzzle out. 

"OK, how do I get out of this place..." in the space of time it took him to blink he suddenly found himself staring at the ceiling of what looked like his bedchamber. 

He tried sitting up from the bed and was quickly rewarded with an agonizing pain all along his back and a piercing headache to match. "Well, that was smart," he mumbled through gritted teeth. Just as he growled out a curse, movement in the corner of his vision alerted him that he was not alone. 

"Show yourself or die. I have no patience left to banter," he sat up slowly this time, a command word forming on his lips to summon a guardian in case it was someone who decided it was now time to gain some sort of favor from his mother. The figure came out from the shadowed corner of the room slowly and gracefully. The figure's clothing --- a barely opaque silken gown which covered everything except the hands and feet yet hinted and showed a lot --- shimmered with a purplish tint as Tilfahr appeared with eyes lowered to stand next to his bed. 

"It is only I, Master," Tilfahr’s voice was low, soft, and melodious as she answered. "I returned from chores the Matron gave me to find you here recuperating from your wounds." He noticed that she hadn't slept for what looked like days, eyes rimmed red. 

"How long have I been out?" it would seem that time was passing him by again. 

"I do not know, Master. All I know is that I've been watching over you for the last 3 days and nights. Before then, I do not know, Master," her voice trembled slightly, not knowing if her answer was sufficient enough for Tull. "But I do know that the Yathrin Farenth will be arriving soon to see if you have regained consciousness yet." 

"Farenth, coming here? And now?" the young drow asked again to make sure he heard it right. 

"Yes, Master. She should be here in a few minutes," her voice soft at first went suddenly edged with a sharpness he never heard before, "Shall I prepare for her arrival, Master?" 

*So, she doesn't enjoy the presence of Farenth. Now this is new.* He allowed himself a small grin. Maybe things would begin to look up from now on. "No, Tilfahr. Just get me a robe to put on," he gently swung his body out of bed and realizing that he was wearing not a stitch of clothing," and a pair of under-breeches and pants." 

"As you wish, Master," bowing deeply, Tilfahr then went to an adjoining room and brought out the things he asked for. 

He stood up slowly, a muted pain crawling up and down his back where he remembered a carving was probably healing, and walked over to where Tilfahr waited with the garments in hand. With deft hands and fingers, Tilfahr slid on the clean linen under-breeches and his pants. Next she stood and held open the silken robe which he put himself into, Tilfahr wrapping and tying it on all the way. All that time he noticed how she kept glancing at what was carved on his back. Curious at to what was there himself, Tull asked, "What do you see on my back, Tilfahr?" 

"A spider’s web, Master. I saw a spider’s web etched all over the length and width of your back," he saw pain pass before Tilfahr's eyes as she answered. "Oh, Master, how could this have happ-----" 

"Do not concern yourself with that. Just attend to what I tell you," he paused as he felt a tingling sensation in the back of his mind to signal the approaching presence of the one he was guard to. *Iblith! What did she do, run here or something?* 

Tilfahr remained silent and waited for his next command. Which he gave, making sure she understood every word of it. "Now go and prepare the main chamber for me. I shall be needing it shortly." Dismissing her with a wave of his hand, Tull walked over to one of the gilded mirrors in the room and peered at his reflection. What he saw looking back at him was almost the face of a stranger. It was gaunter looking than he last remembered. His lightly-golden hair looking unkempt, unlike the usual well-groomed style he preferred. Had he been behaving and doing things so oddly that he let himself go physically? It was a reflection he didn't enjoy looking at, and he was sure the same could be said of his mother's reaction. *Another thing to fix and make right, it seems*, he sighed and walked away from the mirror and to the main room of his suite. 

The main chamber was twice as large as his bedroom, and shaped like a rotunda with doors here and there. Each door led into a separate chamber. His bedroom was one of those smaller chambers. Tull saw that Tilfahr was just finishing up the preparations to the room; bottles of several kinds of wine and a couple of wine goblets decorated one small table. All the cushions looked recently fluffed up. One thing his back would be most grateful for. Nodding his approval at the excellent work, which brought a small smile to Tilfahr's face, Tull walked over and sat down in his favorite chair, gently propping his sore and tender back on the velvet-cushioned chair-backing. 

"Excellent, Tilfahr. Good job indeed. Now just stand next to me until I have something else for you to do," he motioned for her to kneel next to him. 

"I wait and serve, Master," Tilfahr knelt next to him, her voice having more lilt to it than before. 

There he sat and waited quietly for the coming of the storm that was his yathrin; thinking over the answers to the questions Farenth probably was itching to ask of him. Absently he nodded off which answers were sufficient and viable enough for Farenth's taste, and shook off those answers that would hasten another series of whippings and this time from Farenth. Tull was satisfied that he was now ready for whatever Lolth had in-store for him. Clearing his throat, it would seem deep thinking on how to survive a meeting with a furious yathrin was very thirsty work. Very thirsty work and stressful. He was about to instruct Tilfahr to get him some wine for his thirst when the main double doors to the chamber were suddenly and forcefully flung wide open. He heard Tilfahr gasp in surprise next to him, even as he noticed the yathrin he was guard to standing just beyond the doors. Farenth looked as if she barely had control of the anger that flashed from her eyes. The young priestess walked --- no, make that marched --- into the chamber and slammed the doors closed behind her. 

*Time to reap what you have sown*, hiding a sigh, Tull stood from his chair and readied himself for the storm he knew was coming...

Farenth sat behind the large desk in her chambers. Had anyone thought to sneak in on her they would likely have succeeded. Deep in thought, she was oblivious to all outside noise... 

*Why... why does he act so foolish?* This thought kept running through her mind, over and over. It was the sustaining power of her rage, the fact that she could think of no answer. The scene in the Great Hall kept replaying itself in her mind as the question asked itself in her mind like an endless circle. His foolish arrogant words repeated themselves in her head as he asked, no, insisted that there be a separate school to teach psionics, a talent that only two currently possessed... 

She had led the slaves to Tull's chambers, having them lay him on his bed. Tilfahr had been there, and the memory of the horror visible in the slave's face brought a feral smile across her face. That slave was Tull's true weakness, and she would make sure to rid herself of that weakness, for her sake though, not Tull's. Tull's weakness was her weakness, for it meant she was protected by one that was weak. She had taken great pleasure in ordering the slave to contact her as soon as Tull woke. She had not missed the flash of disobedience in the sylvan's eyes. It was that which led her to see how big of a weakness she was for Tull. 

Just as that thought died, she felt the shaky frightened touch of the slave's mind, as if the thought had summoned the contact. 

*Forgive the intrusion Second Daughter, he is awake now* her fear made Farenth smile. 

*Good, I shall be right there* she sent back, and quickly severed the contact. 

The question flared again in her mind, *Why? Why must he be so foolish?* Her anger flared at the question that refused to be answered and she wrapped that anger around her like a cloak as she headed towards Tull's chambers. 

No one stopped her as she made her way through the halls. In fact, many cast her only quick glances as she passed, fearful from the slaves, and grim satisfaction from many of the males busy in the passageways. *Yes,* she thought to herself, *they know where I go, and for what reason.* Turning the corner, she paused before the door, slamming it open as she strode into the main room. Expecting him to still be on his back in bed, her strides had taken her through the suite and into the bedroom before she registered his form lounging in the main chamber. Spinning on her heels, she stormed back into the main chamber and stood before him, red eyes blazing down on him. 

"Vendui' Farenth," he said softly. She noted the cautious way he spoke. 

*So, it seems he has been thinking. Good,* she thought, and turned from him, going to the cabinet. She pulled out a fine crystal goblet and poured herself some of the deep blood-red wine she enjoyed, her actions speaking a calmness she didn't feel. 

Turning back, she sat on the empty couch and watched him, trying to read the blank expression on his face. Finally, she answered his greeting. 

"Vendui', my guard," she said, emphasizing the position she had given him. Seeing his expression stay impassive, her anger flashed in her eyes. 

In a voice surprisingly soft, she asked, "Tell me, what do you value Tull?" 

He lowered his eyes to the floor, hiding his face from her. Equally softly, he answered her. "What I value is important and dear to me... and I would not harm it." 

She frowned as he sidestepped the question. "And what do you value?" She asked again, her voice icy, making it clear that she wanted an answer this time. 

"Not much, it seems," he answered quietly. 

She gazed at him in silence, waiting for a real answer. Tullarix sighed, "What I value is my individuality" 

Farenth sighed, "Really? Well... then you value very little indeed. Do you at least appreciate the position I have chosen to give you?" She was starting to lose control of her temper, but she was unwilling to kill him for his constant word games. At least, not until she had gotten her answers. 

Farenth pressed the issue, "Or do you wish your individuality so much that your life means nothing? That..." 

He interrupted her quickly, "I never said I did not appreciate the position of guarding you..." Seeing her black expression, his voice trailed off. 

She let loose her temper and her fury this time, tired of hearing everything but what she wanted to know, "Then why did you nearly get yourself killed?!" 

His expression grew hurt as he looked up at her, but her anger left no room for any other feelings. "I did not go into that meeting meaning to do that Far..." His voice had the tone of one cursed. 

She ignored his comment, continuing as if he hadn't spoken, "Do you think that a ghost could protect me? Is it not enough that your mother recognized your powers, must you also have your own school as well?!" That is what truly made her furious, the fact that he wanted more than he was given, always more. *Nothing is ever enough for him* her minded screamed in pure rage. 

She looked at him in shock as he spoke, a voice strained with suppressing a rage of it's own, "My school? I said all those for her and the city's prosperity..." She quickly overcame her shock and shot back at him, "You want a separate school for psionics, but there are only two of you that have those powers... what need you for a separate school when there aren't even enough with psionics to fill a single room?" 

"Just thinking ahead," he interjected. 

"You think too far ahead, that is your problem" 

He remained silent for awhile, then answered softly, "Better to think ahead, even if too far... than to wait until it’s too late." 

She stood up and began pacing the room. "Do you think that all we do is wait. Fool! We have other things... more important things... to worry about right now... and for the immediate future!" 

Tullarix rose from his chair, walked over to the bedroom and unwrapped his robe, letting it fall to the ground. Farenth saw the healing scar of the carving on his back. 

"Does that even mean anything to you?" she asked. "that scar?" 

Walking over to the bureau he looked at the scar in the mirror. 

"It is a token symbol to most, but I intend to use it as my symbol that I am different from all the rest of the males in this place..." 

Farenth muttered under her breath, "Yes, a foolish one..." 

"If you see me as such, then that is your choice" he said. 

Whispering, she called to him, "Tull...." she sat on the couch, setting her drink on the table. "Come here," the softness of her voice only emphasizing the fact that it was an order. Tull turned from the mirror and walked back into the room, stopping to stand before her chair. "Kneel." As Tull knelt at her feet, her expression softened, weariness aging the smoothness of her face. Looking down into his face, she spoke softly, "Why must you be so ambitious..." She shook her head and her expression hardened into iron determination. "I will not punish you Tull, not physically... but if you ever do anything like that again... anything so foolish and arrogant...," her voice trailed off, letting him wonder what she meant. 

He cocked an eyebrow slightly in puzzlement. 

"Be sure, I will find some way...," Farenth's voice grew cold. "Do not test me Tull, or you will find out just how cruel I can be... and I am sure you do not wish to find out..." 

Tull looked up at her, "I have felt my mother’s cruelty and fury, Far...." 

She interrupted him, waving her hand in negation, "Physical, she punishes you physically... it does nothing! It teaches you nothing. I know that... you do not care if you are whipped or beaten... I know that too well... I have seen how little you care about it. No Tull, my punishments will not be physical..." She looked down at him, to see if he understood her warning. 

"I shall keep that in mind, Far" 

"You may rise Tull..." 

As Tull rose at her signal, Farenth motioned absently for him to take a seat, staring at the wall, deep in thought. 

Tullarix nodded slightly and seated himself. 

The occasional flash in her eyes was the only sign that her thoughts were troubled ones. 

"Something is bothering you, I can tell without using my abilities...," he said quietly. Farenth turned her gaze slowly to meet his. 

"And what else can you tell without using your abilities?" she asked with suspicion. *The last thing I need is him reading my thoughts at a whim* she thought. 

He shrugged and answered her, still talking quietly, "Just that whatever you are thinking of, it is troubling you." 

Farenth turned her gaze away, "very perceptive of you." Standing, she walked to the window overlooking the city. She felt Tullarix watching her intently from his seat. 

Tullarix rose from his chair, setting his glass down, and walked over to a small washstand. Sighing she looked about the room. All signs of her thoughts were gone from her face as she studied Tull, her gaze drawn to the scar on his back. He leaned forward and splashed the cool water on his face and hair. Frowning at the scar, she stood and headed towards the door. 

Her voice cool and controlled she spoke as she opened the door, "I have things to do, but remember what I said Tullarix. They were not just empty words." 

With that she left him to think about her warning. As she made her way back to her chambers, she kept thinking about his answer to that insistent question. *Why must he be so foolish?* This time she had an answer, she just didn't like it.

Orbb Solen walked slowly down the hall towards Mavralyn’s personal chambers. The shock she had felt at the Matron's sudden announcement had yet to fade. To be adopted into House Xol'Niaren had been an ambitious dream of Orbb's. To gain rank and favor in a powerful house had been her ambition all along. Still, the position of First Daughter was not something she had expected. Orbb could not help but wonder at the Matron's thoughts behind the decision. 

As Orbb turned down another dark corridor, she began to think about the few times that she had actually spent time with Mavralyn. There were not many, and yet, as Orbb looked over those meetings long ago in the city of Rilauven, she noted something that she had missed at the time. 

During every one of those meetings, the Matron had watched her, and had asked her questions. Orbb remembered those piercing eyes now. What had the Matron seen in her? Orbb wondered. The questions now revealed hidden meanings that Orbb had taken no notice of at the time. Orbb suddenly realized that the Matron had learned a great deal about Orbb. The knowledge that realization brought did not sit well with Orbb. She wondered just how much Mavralyn knew of Orbb and her secret ambitions. Orbb liked her secrets to remain as such. 

Orbb turned that last corner and approached the door to Mavralyn’s quarters. Two warriors stood to either side, but before either one could knock to announce her, it opened. Sapphire eyes met Orbb's. A black robe trimmed in red and gold flowed about her form. Orbb had only a moment to realize a sudden, interesting fact before she dropped a respectful curtsey. The Matron was pregnant. 

"Vendui', honored Matron Mother," Orbb covered her surprise with the greeting. 

A dark smile curved the Matron's lips as she beckoned Orbb into the room. Orbb entered slowly, wondering how this revelation would effect her future. She knew that the Matron meant to adopt her, but Orbb would never be Mavralyn's daughter completely. If this child was a daughter.... Orbb did not have time to complete the thought, as Mavralyn motioned her to sit at the table. 

"Now, you will tell me what took place that brought you into my throne room," the Matron said in a tone that warned against argument. 

Orbb did as she was told, sinking into the indicated chair with a grace that she hoped would hide her inner tension. Then, steeling herself, she met the sapphire eyes that betrayed none of the Matron's thoughts or feeling, and began her story. 

At the end of the tale, Orbb realized that she had forgotten the Matron's presence. She had gotten caught up in the story, reliving the emotions. She forced tense muscles to relax. She knew she had told more than she had intended to tell. There was something compelling about the drowess who sat on the other side of the table. Orbb met Mavralyn's eyes, and saw that the Matron was smiling, a cruel, satisfied smile. Orbb echoed the smile back. 

"The end of that," Mavralyn said, rising from the table. 

Orbb watched as the Matron turned to a small obsidian cabinet, carvings of various rituals exquisitely engraved upon the smooth stone. Its door swung open at a few murmured words and a gesture from the drowess. Orbb's curiosity was raised as she watched Mavralyn reach in and pull out an ornate chalice of gold with twelve different gems set around its rim. Each gem pulsed as if a heart beat within it. Even as Mavralyn placed it upon the small altar at one end of the room, Orbb realized that it resembled a large spider with multiple eyes. 

Caught by the beauty of the chalice, Orbb almost missed Mavralyn taking out two more items from the cabinet. One was a small packet which Orbb knew to contain special ritual herbs. The other item was an orvelve, its sharp blades curved down to form the legs of a spider. Two rubies set into the pommel seemed to glow with a life of their own. For a fleeting moment, Orbb wished for Chathal's presence, but the spider had needed to hunt. 

A clap of the Matron' hands brought two servants leading a drugged human into the room. 

"Pity, I have no paladin to sacrifice, but this human will have to do." 

The Matron turned back to the cabinet as the servants left the human standing dazed near the altar. As she closed the cabinet door, she murmured a few words, warding it. Then she turned back to Orbb, her eyes piercing. 

Orbb rose from her chair at the unspoken command. Her eyes swiveled away from her Matron, to rest on the human. Even as she unconsciously shed her robes, and started towards the human, the words rang behind her. 

"Prepare him for his meeting with Lloth, but do not fill the chalice with his blood. That will have another purpose." 

Orbb's eyes flashed and darkened with anticipation and dark pleasure as she took the orvelve from the altar. At her side, the Matron raised her arms to the image of the goddess and began chanting. As Orbb advanced to stand close to the human, Mavralyn lowered her arms and unfastened her gown to let it fall in a flurry of silk. A distant part of Orbb's mind noted the distended belly of her matron. Then her mind was consumed by the dark power that began to swirl about the room. 

Orbb's eyes flew upward to the image of her goddess. 

"Lloth tlu malla!," she cried, and heard an echoing cry beside her. 

Swiftly, Orbb plunged the orvelve into the chest of the human. She felt the blades clasp the heart, and watched as the eyes of the human flew open and his mouth dropped open in a soundless scream. Orbb pulled the sacred dagger from the body, extracting the still beating heart. The body slumped to the floor at her feet. Raising her arms and the heart above the altar, she cried out to her goodess again. 

"Lloth tlu malla!" 

"Honored Goddess," Mavralyn's voice rose beside her, " we gift this human heart to You! We call upon Your favor!" 

"Take him for Your own," came Orbb's own request. 

Suddenly, the heart burst into dark flames, which consumed it in one brief flash. Orbb held the blade steady as the flames burned the heart, but did not touch her. An evil smile curved Mavralyn's lips, and Orbb felt her own smile turn her lips upward, as the sacrifice was accepted. 

Mavralyn's fingers moved in silent communication, ordering the servants to remove the body, and Orbb placed the now clean blade carefully on the altar beside the chalice. The servants moved quickly, fearfully, to take the body away. Orbb ignored them, her eyes turned to her Matron. 

Mavralyn knelt near the altar, signaling Orbb to join her. As Orbb knelt beside her, she watched the Matron pick up a small obsidian dagger that Orbb had not noticed until this moment. Mavralyn silently placed that dagger's point on the palm of her hand. Holding her hand above the chalice on the altar, Mavralyn cut deep into her palm, swiftly and without hesitation, and allowed the blood to drip into the ornate cup. When the chalice was half full, Mavralyn murmured a simple healing spell, cleaned the dagger and handed it to Orbb. 

"Now, you will do what I have done, Zesstra Freth," the Matron's power-filled voice swirled about her. 

The use of Orbb's true name startled her for a moment. She had not heard it in so long, it no longer seemed a part of her. Orbb struggled for a moment to bring herself back to the ritual at hand. Succeeding, she took the blade from the Matron, and, her eyes narrowing in sudden determination, she cut into her palm. Even as her own blood dripped into the chalice, mixing with Mavralyn's, Orbb felt her past slide away. She would no longer be Zesstra Freth. That path was a dead path, leading to a dying house, and a dying city. 

Orbb murmured a healing spell of her own, and cleaned the dark blade with a sudden reverance. Much as she wished, she had no time to admire the blade, for the Matron was already continuing. Mavralyn opened the packet she had brought out from the cabinet earlier, and poured the contents into the now filled chalice. Then, she motioned for Orbb to stir the mixture. 

Orbb stirred the contents with the blade. Then, once satisfied that it was well stirred, Orbb cleaned the dagger again. Then, she watched as Mavralyn raised the chalice to the image above the altar. 

"As our blood mingles within the chalice," the dark voice of the Matron spoke, "so we become as one." 

Mavralyn lowered her arms and drank deeply from the chalice. Then, she handed it to Orbb, her eyes glistening with dark power. 

"Finish it," the Matron commanded. 

Orbb took the chalice, and drained it without hesitation. Orbb licking her lips of the thick liquid as she handed the chalice back. Strength filled her and a sudden change. She could not identify exactly what had changed in her, but she knew that it would dictate her future. 

"Your blood is now my blood, " her mother spoke as she placed the chalice back on the altar. 

Orbb was surprised at the sudden unconscious thought that had caused her to label the Matron her mother. Yet even as it surprised her, a dawning realization made her understand the implications of this ritual. 

"And I am no longer Zesstra Freth," Orbb voiced the thought. 

"No," came her mother's reply, "you will now be known as Lizinil d'Xol'niaren." 

Orbb nodded, not knowing exactly what to say. Her past had been erased, and she had been given a path to power that she had only dreamed of attaining. Now, everything Orbb had ever wanted was laid out before her, attainable if she desired to pursue it. Orbb's eyes met her new mother's. She wondered what this powerful matron had planned for her. 

"The bond of blood is complete," Mavralyn spoke as she rose, retrieving her gown from the floor, and replacing it about her body. "I now have a new First Daughter." 

Orbb rose to retrieve her own gown. She paused a moment to try and remember when she had taken it off, but could not recall now. She pushed the thought aside though. She never did remember the tiny details that happened during a ritual, and they were of little consequence. 

Orbb watched as Mavralyn turned to gather up the items on the altar, and put them away in the cabinet. Orbb wrapped her robes about her again, securing the front with the gold spider clasp that had been a recent comission of one of the artisans that had taken residence in the new city. A dark red ruby glowed at the center of the clasp, forming the body of a spider. The claw on the end of each spider leg clipped to the red trimmed, black silk robe that she had found in her clothes cabinet upon her return from the throne room. The soft material clung to her slender body, and flowed about her ankles as she went to sit at the table again. 

Mavralyn turned her back on the cabinet once more. Sitting across from Orbb, she watched for a moment as Orbb poured wine for the two of them. 

"Your duties include teaching the little ones," her mother's voice broke the silence. 

"Yes, honored mother." 

"I will not see these signs of love that I see in others," Mavralyn's spoke with a note of disgust. 

Orbb's eyes flashed briefly in anger at the insinuation, but her face stayed cool. 

"There is no place for love here," Orbb spat the distasteful word. 

"If I had thought you foolish that way, I would not have chosen you," the Matron said, having noted the flash of Orbb's eyes, and the tone of her voice. 

"You will be a wean mother," Mavralyn said, watching Orbb's eyes. "Do not go easy on them." 

Orbb nodded, no longer surprised by her mother's commands. 

"They will learn to obey you and the Goddess," Orbb spoke with assurance. 

"They will learn their roles in Her world." 

Mavralyn smiled and continued, "you may move into the First Daughter's quarters." 

"Xas, honored Matron, of course." 

A knock on the door interrupted any further conversation. Orbb watched as one of the guards opened the door at Mavralyn's command to admit, Tullarix. Orbb watched with barely contained fury as the male bent to a knee before the Matron to greet her. She had come in on the very end of the argument in the throne room. The rest she had heard about, from several of the others in the house. Orbb wished that the foolish male had not survived the end of that incident, but it was not her place to decide. The Matron obviously thought him to still be useful. So Orbb contained the desire to place a dagger in his heart herself, and watched the male carefully...