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Lahri went off, careful not to trip on her skirt. When she could see the queen sitting on her throne, the king on his straw and blanket, and some of the other centaurs, she knew she was reaching the correct location.
Her leather shoes were so quiet.
Everyone was quiet.
Lahri bowed and knelt down on a cushion on the queen's right. Then she bowed again. She arranged her sleeves, trying to make them seem elegant instead of cumbersome.
She looked around.
Oh, Vansoth was right there, right in front of her. His face was stern, but his fingers were affectionate as he reached for her sleeve and kissed the layers.
But when he finished with that, when Lahri took another look around ...
She saw ...
A human man!
He sat on a tall chair on the dirt floor.
Lahri's body was like an icicle suffering in an earthquake.
She knew who that man was. She knew his name.
Ovidu Barta.
A diplomat from Raobet.
***
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