“I apprehend,” E’lin remarked gently, though the realization had struck her like a bolt of lightning, “that the decision to fetch me from Otralto so early, two or three cycles before my scheduled debut at the Gala Ball, was due more to your precognition, Lady Ana'i, than to any impulse of Lord Kehrol’s, yes?”

The High Lady nodded regally, a small smile playing about her lips, while her two daughters laughed openly. “Mother is used to getting her way, but her visions are rarely wrong if interpreted… objectively,” Lady Sanika, the eldest, interjected between chuckles. “And she'll think no less of you for noticing her subtle manipulations.”

Lady Llyare further explained, “Visions can be viewed so subjectively, you understand, that an oracle may influence her interpretation of what she sees if she feels a strong bias toward one outcome over another. It’s very difficult to do, completely, divorcing oneself from expectations, but precognitive prodigies like me begin learning that lesson as soon as we manifest.”

Aware that asking was intrusive, yet unable to help herself, E'lin inquired, “How old were you, when you knew?”

“Don’t be embarrassed.  It’s a common question. I was eight cycles old. I foresaw danger to my little brother; and I was proven correct, except that Kehrol was rescued in time, thankfully. So, in a way, I can comprehend how a serious training regimen can affect a young girl.” The empathy in the woman’s violet eyes was genuine and well-intentioned. E’lin debated with herself as to whether she should so easily place her trust in a telepath and member of the Out-of-Plane Elite but dismissed her concern as fear of the unknown; she had already done precisely that with her affianced Husband, after all.

E'lin stalled for something diplomatic to say by sipping her tea. It was black tea, smoothed with hints of cinnamon and orange: delicious! And it was brewed lightly enough to require neither milk nor sugar. “So… if a seer's personal emotions can affect the veracity of a vision,” the Bride ventured tentatively, “I assume that you were taught, as I was, to accept all things with equanimity, and discouraged from having opinions of your… our own. It is, indeed, not an easy lesson.” E'lin stifled the sigh that tried to rise at that thought. “I imagine that it would be doubly hard for a Lady of Out-of-Plane.” Looking shyly up over the rim of her teacup, E’lin became aware that, for the second time that evening, she had obviously said something astounding and probably horrifying.

Grand High Lady Ana’i had one hand laid on the arm of Lady Sanika, whose café-au-lait complexion had paled except for fever spots burning high on her cheeks. “She isn’t accusing us of such behavior, my dear,” Ana'i murmured. “All the child knows is her own experience.”

Lady Sanika subsided into her chair, which she had been perched on the edge of, and replied, “I know that, Mother, just as I know that desperate people do terrible things. Otralto badly needed our Bride Price and revoking it in retaliation for the treatment E'lin received would only perpetuate or worsen that reprehensible system.” She took a deep breath. “But I hereby withdraw my objections to their Marriage at such a tender age. It was for the best to remove her from that repressive environment with all possible haste.” She muttered something else about her brother and his pants, but E’lin was too alarmed by Sanika's vehemence to take it all in.

“My sister often views the world, or at least the galaxy beyond Out-of-Plane, in black and white,” Llyare the seeress confided to E’lin, relieving her of the teacup which she was clutching like a small child with a doll. “Sanika and Kehrol both went to Inter-Galactic University to broaden their horizons, whereas I stayed here; my horizons came to me, you might say.” The soft-spoken young woman reached out to E’lin, but again, didn’t quite touch her without permission. “I see that the menfolk are arriving extremely punctually, for once,” and there was amusement in her voice.

“So, what have you ladies been saying about us, this evening?” Rinam, Sanika’s redhaired Husbandman joked upon entering the room. E’lin could tell by the narrowing of his eyes that he’d noticed that his Lady-Wife had recently been upset and was deliberately lightening the mood. As the only new factor added to their family unit, the logical conclusion would be that E’lin was the cause of her distress, but Rinam had nothing but a brief expression of camaraderie for her.

The Bride began to consider that these people might honestly wish to befriend her, and not simply keep her well fed, well groomed, and well contented to make her existence as a breeding female as hassle-free as reasonably achievable for everyone. Of course, as a Wife Prime, she would be expected to competently execute many other duties with poise and elegance, but something about this “intimate, family dinner” caused it to feel like more than a mere test to ensure that she was as adequate as Grand High Lady Ana’i had foretold.

Both Husbandmen, as well as Lady Sanika, had been irate on her behalf, although the men had hidden it better. That, in itself, was... unexpected. Come to think of it, Kehrol, too, had thought poorly of the methods of Bride selection and training on Otralto, as though he had not known in advance. Perhaps his mother had not told him, leaving him to form his own impressions. Yet, E’lin was fairly certain that High Lady Ana’i, at least, was cognizant of, if not the exact details of the situation on Otralto, then definitely what to expect of a young girl from that society raised to go for a Bride.

While E’lin had been caught up in her own ideas and conclusions, the thread of the conversation had escaped her. Had the Eldresses and Headmen who had instructed her in manners discovered this, she would surely have been severely punished. And E’lin didn’t care one whit. Their former student didn’t even feel that she ought to have been sickened by guilt. Instead, she giggled almost inaudibly, and only for an instant.

However, nothing escaped Ana’i’s attention; it was part of the reason she had attained the rank of Grand High Lady. The matriarch pinned E’lin with her curiously avian glance, and smiled, slightly ironically, as if the two of them shared a secret the rest of the company remained in ignorance of.

Facing the petite Lady Ana’i and meeting her eyes directly, E’lin asked the one thing that puzzled her more than anything else: “Why me?”

Ana’i simply tilted her head to the side and widened her eyes. Fine, if this was a game, E’lin would play, although the Bride had all the odds stacked against her. Everyone else had fallen silent, to hear what would transpire next. The colonial girl surrounded by such unfamiliar luxury chose to incline her head slightly to the other side. “Hundreds of Brides would be delighted to be chosen by Lord Kehrol, and scores would get along well with him; he is every young Candidate’s romantic dream, is he not?” Kehrol blinked rapidly in disbelief, but no one paid any attention to him. “So, I ask again, why me?”

“Because, my dear, there may be scores and hundreds, or even scores of hundreds of Brides who would be mildly compatible with my son, but there is only one E’lin Prrtan of Otralto,” replied Lady Ana’i. “And yes, that is the surname of your family which you’ve been encouraged to forget.” Another frisson of distaste went through everyone but E’lin herself. The Grand High Lady sighed. “I may not believe that there is only one perfect mate for each person in the universe, but I do believe in love and in destiny, and when the two combine, that is something one does not ignore. Besides,” she added, “you’d have been detected within the next six turns or so anyway, and there was no point in waiting half a cycle just to tempt fate.”

“Detected?” repeated Thal, saving E’lin the trouble. “What about her would be detected?”

“I’m surprised my precognitive daughter hasn’t told you by now. After all, we’ve spent an entire evening in her company,” Ana’i said, clearly teasing her family again. “Llyare, as a demonstration, please tell the group our new friend’s favorite color. I’m sure she’ll forgive the intrusion, this one time.”

E’lin, in fact, did mind the intrusion, but kept those thoughts to herself and off her face. It would, after all, be a difficult question to answer.

“I... I don’t... I think perhaps she doesn’t have one,” Lady Llyare said, puzzled.

“E’lin?” demanded the diminutive matriarch. “You’ve just confused one of the finest telepaths in Out-of-Plane. If you don’t mind sharing, what color is your favorite?”

“Lady Llyare is correct. I don’t have a preference,” the Bride responded calmly, beginning to suspect where this line of inquiry was leading, and frankly flabbergasted by it.

Ana’i merely nodded. “Then you’ve done very well, Llyare. I’m proud of you.” Addressing E’lin again she asked, “Do you perchance have a least favorite color?” When all the Bride could do was nod, the Grand High Lady assigned the task of revealing that color to her Heir Prime, Sanika.

Sanika looked like she’d rather be shot, probably also having an inkling by now what her mother was hinting at, but nevertheless, concentrated her will. Finally, she gave up. “I was going to say blue,” Lady Sanika admitted, shrugging, “but I think that’s more because I wanted it to be something obvious.  I just don’t know.”

“I don’t know is often the bravest thing one can say,” her enigmatic parent praised and consoled her. “Kehrol? Do you have a guess, before we ask the expert, herself?”

Lord Kehrol inhaled with resignation and closed his eyes. Then they popped open again. “Pink. Her Bride Candidate uniforms were hot pink and white striped, and she can’t stand the color.”

This time it was E’lin who went pale; she had expected Kehrol to fail, as well. “He’s right,” she admitted, “even as to the reason why.”

“Well, I’m extraordinarily pleased with you both, and with my abilities, if I do say so myself,” High Lady Ana’i practically chortled. “Only one more trial, then, E’lin dear, and my apologies for this. Think of something deeper, a secret you keep hidden, just one, and hold it in your mind but try to shield it from everyone else, telepaths or not. Can you do that?”

The Bride blushed but affirmed that she believed she could.

“Kehrol, if you catch a whiff of that secret, whisper it to E’lin, who will confirm or deny your accuracy. If you cannot, of course, then there is no problem,” and once more Ana’i was grinning like a cat.

Again, Kehrol relaxed his shoulders and shut his eyes. For a long time, he stood that way. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I believe it was from when she was quite young, but that’s all I can pick up. Even her fated Husband has his limits.” The teen thought his wry smile was particularly endearing. “You’ve proven your point, Mother. E’lin cannot be read; her shields are too strong.” He moved to stand beside his Bride. “Which means she’s a latent telepath, or she wouldn’t be able to build such impenetrable walls. E’lin is a wildtype, a spontaneously arising psychic, and if anyone unscrupulous found out, she would be, especially given her brainwas… er… indoctrina… um… tutelage, a perfect spy... or whatever else was desired.”