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Asta felt like slapping the silly child– who was not such a child, if it came to that. Certainly she was old enough to know better. What a thing to blurt out in their present company!
"What are you talking about, Sereth?" she said, in her own, intentional, stage whisper. "I'm sure good Lord Burlach only means to spur us to do our best. He is the Master of Revels, after all." That was for Sador's benefit: he could hardly have failed to pick up Sereth's words, spoken as they were in the penetrating little voice that always carried so clearly to the back row of the audience.
When she risked a glance at the young nobleman she saw that he was smiling again, but somehow that did not reassure her at all. There was something inward and ambiguous about that smile. This Sador– Asta frowned, trying to recall where she had heard the name before– this Sador might be less haughty than his sire, but he would definitely bear watching.
She had a more immediate concern, anyway. "Brinn," she said quietly, "what about Amdĺr? Whatever happened, exactly, I have to say it was much more likely our lot were the ones who behaved badly– don't you agree?"
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