#watcher tarren

---

Her feet perched on the crosspiece of the chair's legs, Tarren leaned forward to listen to Mestre Tallazzo. Elbows braced on the desk, expression one of rapt attention to the Caballé family history and how it interplayed with Vailian politics. This would be important, both so she could do her duty as a ward of House Caballé and because the mestre had assigned them a paper on the topic of family history. Tarren didn't know how it was going for Sofia or Belizzi, but she was having trouble finding sources. There were simply too many books in the house library to go through them all in search of a relevent few. Perhaps there would be something in this lecture she could use.

Her attentiveness did not go unnoticed.

"You were quite invested today, Tarren," Mestre Tallazzo said as Sofia and Belizzi left the room. "You are always a good student, but it seemed even more important today. Have a particular interest in the founding era, do you?"

"That is what my paper is about," Tarren said. She hugged her books to her chest. "And it's so long ago I'm having trouble finding information. I've been to the library," she added hastily, "I haven't had much luck there so far."

"Hmm." Mestre Tallazzo stroke his goatee and studied her. "Tarren, when you want fruit that is high up a tree, what do you do?"

She blinked at the subject change but answered dutifully, "You climb up to where you can reach it."

His dark eyes twinkled. "And if there are no branches in reach?"

Tarren was beginning to wonder if he'd seen her apple picking. "You shake the tree."

"So it must be in life sometimes as well; you must 'shake the tree' to get or learn what you need."

She cocked her head. "The bookshelves are built into the wall, and I think if I shook the books off, they'd hurt, anyway."

The mestre laughed. "It is more... metaphorical in this case, my dear. Wouldn't wish to injure the Caballé ward, no? Did you ask the stewards where you might find the books you seek?"

Tarren chewed her lower lip. "I thought I was supposed to do all the research and writing on my own, Mstre Tallazzo."

"Yes, but asking someone to point you in the direction of the research materials is allowed," he chuckled. "I apologize if I made it seem otherwise." He patted her back. "You are allowed to ask for help when you need it, Tarren."

She nodded, relieved and perhps a little confused at the gravitas he gave the words. "Thank you, mestre. I'm going to work on my paper, now."

"And I'm sure it will be marvellous," Mestre Tallazzo said with a grin, gesturing broadly toward th door. "I cannot wait to read it."

Bolstered by his assurance and confidence, Tarren scurried from the room toward the library. Surely one of the stewards could help her 'shake the tree' as he'd suggested.

---

Tarren endured the sensation of eyes on her back for a full five minutes before turning to seek out the source. There were only a few other kith in the room; it shouldn't be hard to find someone staring at her.

And it wasn't. The blonde elven girl was hardly trying to be subtle. Tarren openly studied her back as she crossed the room. Dark eyes, a build that could be called waifish if not for her fine dress and intricately braided hair. The colors were House Alesté, but they were folk. A trusted servant? A ward, as Tarren was to Caballé? Whoever she was, the faintest hint of pink in her cheeks was the only indication of possible embarrassment Tarren caught her staring.

"Can I help you?" Tarren asked levelly when she reached the girl.

The blonde stood straighter and inclined her head. "You are the Caballé ward, ac? Lady Allandra says you do readings." She licked her lips and leaned closer. "Soul reading."

Ah. One of Sofia's friends had blathered about Tarren's cipher abilities around her inner circle or maidservants and now a curious soul wanted to see for herself. Tarren wondered absently what had made the subject come up between Sofia and Allandra in the first place.

"I do," she comfirmed, "Sometimes."

The blonde gave her a measuring look, taking in Tarren's pale blue skin, white hair, the Caballé colors she wore. "Would you... do one for me? I've had a growing sense of disquiet the past few weeks, and I'm not sure if it's a premonition of something, or my soul remembering something, or just a new anxiety..."

Tarren dipped her chin in a nod. Best to be accommodating to anyone associated with Allandra, she was one of Sofia's closest confidants, And she'd been courteous in the asking. "What's your name?"

"Benicia."

"Is there a particular answer you seek, Benicia, or just a general inquiry if something is... amiss?"

"Mostly if the disquiet is tied to the future or the past, I suppose." Benicia nibbled at her lower lip. "So I know if the issue is my soul or if there is, perhaps some danger to warn Lady Allandra about, ac?"

Tarren nodded. She could understand the concern. "Is there... anything in the works that could be a danger to her?" she asked. "For you to think this is potentially a premonition?"

"Her family is working on a trade agreement with the DiBellos, which is a secret," Benicia said in hushed, meaningful tones.

Another nod from Tarren. It was the way of Old Vailia's families. "I'll not speak a word." She could already sense faint turmoil even without trying. "Do you think it's merely the screcy? Or that the DiBellos will attempt something underhanded?"

"I don't know." Benicia made a helpless gesture. "That's why I asked for... for a reading. Perhaps this is just my soul, which is my own problem, but would be no concern of my lady."

"Right." Tarren extended a hand, hovering just over Benicia's forearm. "May I?" She didn't really need to ask; her abilities were strong enough to search the girl's soul with neither permission nor contact. But she strove not to use them like that.

Benicia extended her arm further. "Of course."

Souls were slippery things, ciphers simply more adept at pinning them under their searches. But Benicia's all but leapt at Tarren's probing, as if it wished to unburden itself of some terrible confession. She--obliging but careful--dove right in.

She could see shades, if not full details, of the deal between Alesté and DiBello, but that was not the source of distress. Hm, a marriage alliance.

The disturbance in Benicia's soul was easy to follow, flaring as an offshoot of her worry about the outcome of this contract. A little prying, a little teasing, and the answer presented itself--a few generations back, her soul had belonged to a DiBello. They had been a house of ill-repute at the time--since steered toward something honorable--and the faint echo of that time reproached the idea of joining House Alesté to that den of thieves. An amalgam of past knowledge and current affiliation. Nothing to worry about, so long as both halves of the contract acted honorably.

Tarren carefully withdrew from the past life so as not to Awaken it. She hesitated before fully disentangling from Benicia's soul. There were some more... surface thoughts about the arrangement she could read without getting too intrusive. Given her promise of secrecy, she wasn't sure how useful it would be, even if it didn't give her pause.

Before she'd finished her grapple with morality, two of the thoughts unbidden slithered into her mind.

'I hope he treats her well.'

'DiBello needs this more than we do.'

Deciding that was enough, Tarren fully retreated from Benicia's soul and offered her a reassuring smile as she relayed the results of the reading. "Your past life is fretting over outdated information, there is no need for concern."

"Agricima!" Benicia effused, giving her hand a grateful squeeze as she stepped back. "Perhaps I will sleep tonight."

"Happy to help," Tarren said with a polite smile, and excused herself. She didn't think this was what Mestre Tallazzo had meant by 'shake the tree' but she'd picked up some interesting tidbits all the same.

---

"Tarren, there you are!" Sofia rounded the corner with sparkling eyes and a mischievous step. "You'll never guess what I learned today!"

Tarren smiled and tuck away the sermon pamphlet she'd bee reading. "Well, then, you can just tell me." She and Sofia often differed on what was important or worth getting excited about; she might genuinely never guess.

Sofia's lips pursed in a mock-pout. "Oh, you're no fun sometimes."

Tarren shrugged, still smiling. "Saves time."

"Can't argue with that. Alright," Sofia giggled. "Inez has things arranged so she inherits control of her family's holdings when her mother passes."

Tarren's brows arched toward her hairline. "How in Cirono's name did she manage that? Aren't her sisters expecting an even split?"

"They are," Sofia confirmed gleefully, tugging Tarren's elbow so they could both sit on a divan. "She has been quite canny, you see. They shall inherit their shares of the Caledre-owned businesses, however--" her eyes sparkled-- "Inez has her own businesses, which own business, and those own larger investment shares than the Caledres will hold after it splits between her sisters in most all of their holdings. If they consolidate their fortunes and sacrifice shares in other holdings, her sisters may be able to prise one of the shipping ventures from her, but as it stands, Inez Caledre is on the precipice of being a very wealthy woman. Especially with the ducesa in such poor health, Cirono guide her."

The machinations made Tarren's head spin. She truly never would have guessed all this. "Her sisters don't suspect any of this?"

Sofia shook her head. "Not a whisper," she said. "And with their mother in such a bad way, she likely will not have to hide it much longer."

"And how did you learn about it?" Tarren asked, rearranging the pleats of her skirt to hide how disturbed she was at the lengths the youngest Caledre had gone to ensure she became the most powerful.

"Inez and I are friends, Tarren, we talk," Sofia said with a toss of her head, making her earrings glitter as they caught the light. "I asked the right kith the right questions to fill the gaps. Shook the tree, as it were," she grinned.

Tarren shook her head. Poor Mestre Tallazzo had no idea the ways we were going to mangle that saying. "Does Inez know you're wise to her, Sofia?"

"She know I know some of it; she told me herself." Sofia shrugged. "She also knows I'm impressed and she can consider me a supporter, ac?"

There it was. Tarren bit her lip. "Be careful. You know how quickly these games can turn on you."

Sofia smiled and patted her arm. "Agricima, Tarren, but it is how things go here. I'm forging an alliance for my house, and one this powerful comes with some risk in the forming."

"I know that," Tarren said, "We've just seen so many Houses fall to such manuevers going sour. I'd hate to see you join them."

"We're fine," Sofia promised, squeezing her arm, then blanched. "Ay, is that the time?! I'm late for tea with mother--"

She was gone in a flurry of silk and velvet before Tarren coul formulate any sort of reply. Her hopes this didn't go belly-up on Sofia would have to stay in her head.

---

It was many years and machinations of others before House Caballé fell, prompting Tarren's departure from Old Vailia. She found herself in the Dyrwood, in vastly different company, but some principles held the same regardless of time or distance.

"No one's talkin'," Sagani said grimly.

"Agreed, the residents are far from forthcoming," Aloth nodded.