Shield's Lady

all appeared mesmerized by it.
    Sariana glanced down at the weapon kit and frowned. “Open it? But why?”
    “I need something inside and I would appreciate it if you would open the kit for me,” Gryph said, still speaking in that unnaturally soft voice.
    “Can’t you open it?”
    “My shoulder,” he said half-apologetically. “The pain seems to be radiating down into my hand.”
    “Maybe you should see another medic,” Sariana said quickly. “The wound might have become infected during the night. What about the fever? Has it gone completely?”
    “Hush, Sariana. I swear I’ll be fine. In the meantime, if you would just open the kit for me, I would appreciate it more than I can say.”
    She looked at the lock. “I don’t know how to open it.”
    “Just touch it, Sariana. Touch it the way you did last night and think of it as being open.”
    Sariana was suddenly overcome with the compelling urge to do as he asked. She had been curious about this strange pouch since the night she had taken it from his unconscious body. Now was her chance to see just what was inside. She was actually being invited to do so. She couldn’t wait.
    Eagerly she explored the lock with her fingers, finding no obvious mechanism. She looked up. “I don’t see how it works, Gryph.”
    “I told you how it works. Just touch it and think of the kit as being open.”
    He was speaking the words, Sariana realized, but his soft, dark voice seemed to be coming from somewhere inside her head, just as it had at times last night. She wondered if she was still suffering from the effects of the punch.
    “Open it, Sariana.”
    Instinctively Sariana obeyed. She touched the lock and pictured the weapon kit as being open.
    An instant later it was open. She stared down into the dark interior of the pouch, trying to see what lay inside. But before she could investigate further, Gryph reached out easily with his injured arm and plucked the kit out of her grasp.
    “My thanks, Shield Lady,” he said.
    Sariana frowned and started to ask him why he called her that, but she got no chance to do so. All five of the Avylyn, as well as two attendants who had entered the room to refill the teapots, were on their feet, talking and exclaiming at once.
    “Sariana,” Lady Avylyn said in loud accents that managed to float above the other voices in the room, “why didn’t you tell me, my dear? Last night when we talked you implied you were merely thinking of having an affair. You said nothing about marriage. I distinctly asked you if marriage had been mentioned.”
    Sariana swung around, her mouth open with astonishment. “Marriage? What are you talking about, Lady Avylyn?”
    “You opened his weapon kit,” Mara said in awed tones. “You opened a Shield’s weapon kit. He has chosen you for his bride.”
    Luri was bouncing up and down with excitement. “He told me only his Shieldmate would be able to open the kit. And you did it, Sariana. You really did it.”
    “Who would have guessed our little business manager would make a suitable bride for a Shield?” Bryer asked with a quick grin.
    Lord Avylyn waved his hand for silence and then inclined his head very formally toward Sariana. “On behalf of my clan I extend our best wishes and congratulations.”
    “By the Lightstorm,” Bryer said, “this is sure a surprise. Wait until your folks hear about this, huh, Sariana? I bet they’ll be stunned. They don’t even know about Shields, do they?”
    “What’s in the kit?” Luri demanded eagerly. “Did you get a chance to see what’s inside? I’ve always wanted to get a good look inside a Shield’s weapon kit.”
    Sariana turned her appalled gaze back to Gryph. He was calmly sipping tea. His eyes met hers over the edge of his cup but he said nothing. She scanned the faces of the Avylyns. “Have you all gone crazy? What is this nonsense about marriage?”
    Jasso’s brows came together. “You must know that under the laws set down in the First Generation Pact you have allowed this Shield to claim you for his bride.”
    “I know nothing of the kind!” Sariana heard her voice rising to a shriek and frantically worked to control it. She never shrieked. “What are you talking about?”
    Lady Avylyn glanced doubtfully at her. Then she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “The Pact was made between the First Generation social classes of The Serendipity and the Shields. A Shield is entitled to search for a mate in any social class he wishes. But he