[Firefoot]

After the Emissary’s slip, Siamak had largely remained quiet, his thoughts whirling. For a moment, he had allowed himself to engage in the light-hearted banter about the low table. He had forgotten his mistrust of the Emissary, becoming comfortable. This foreigner was entirely to easy to become comfortable with, his silky-smooth voice enchanting those who listened for too long and chilling those with suspicions. His error had thrown the situation back into sharp relief, however, and Siamak’s wariness had returned tenfold. He now readily understood how his father had become so taken with the Emissary. A chill ran up his back as Siamak realized how close he had come to being in the same boat as his father. This Westerner needed to be watched closely.

Siamak looked up as the High Priestess Zamara approached their table. If Siamak had been wary before, then he was certainly uncomfortable now. He held all priests and priestesses in high respect, almost fear, especially the High Priestess. They were entirely too close to Rea and Rhais, and Siamak was of the firm belief that it was best to know only as much as necessary about all religious aspects. He certainly worshiped regularly and prayed for their blessings - it would be no good to have them angry at him, after all. In some ways, priests and priestesses were as bad as nobles - worse, maybe: at least Siamak understood nobles. Siamak shifted uneasily, paying little attention to the introductions and the exchange between the High Priestess and the Emissary. When it became apparent that she intended to stick around, Siamak felt he could not handle this situation. No one was paying any attention to him, so he rose from his cushion, saying that he needed some fresh air and would return in a moment. It came out as a mumble, but he didn’t think that anyone had noticed.

He headed for the nearest exit, attracting little notice from the guests. He had walked into one of the public gardens, and he stopped just outside the door, leaning against a wall and laying the side of his head on the cool marble. It was the relief that he had needed, and he was soon ready to return to the hall. Before he could move, however, he became aware of someone else’s presence nearby. He heard rather than saw the person, and he guessed it to be a woman by the light step. She had some kind of staff, as well, judging by the irregular pattern of footfalls. He remained where he was, hoping not to be noticed.

“Prince Siamak?” There was nothing he could do but turn around after being addressed directly, and he did, coming face to face with precisely the person he had been trying to escape: the High Princess Zamara. Apparently his exit had not been so inconspicuous as he had thought. He did not let his sinking feeling show, and instead put a pleasant look on his face. Having the High Priestess upset with him would be nearly as bad as having Rea and Rhais annoyed with him.

“Good evening, High Priestess,” said Siamak, inclining his head respectfully. “May I help you?”

“Yes, actually,” she replied. Siamak waited expectantly, wondering what might be coming. “I have been wanting to speak with you. I would like to ask you about your opinion of the Emissary.” Siamak immediately went on the defensive. He had expected the question tonight, though not from the High Priestess herself. He did not answer right away, trying to decide what to answer. He knew many nobles who would have tried to wheedle the answer out of him, dodging the precise question and beating around the bush. Siamak admired her direct manner, and it was because of this that he was seriously considering answering her honestly. He put the question aside for a moment, raising his gaze to meet her eyes.

“Why would you like to know?” he asked her. It was asked as a simple question, holding no subtle innuendoes.

“Well, you are the Prince, and I would value your opinion,” she answered. He quirked his eyebrows. It was the answer that some noble would give, and while the High Priestess certainly wasn’t inept at politics, he suspected there was more to it than that. Surprising himself at his own boldness, and to the High Priestess no less, he pressed her, “Why?” Perhaps it was because she asked of a matter that touched him deep that this new streak had opened up in him, combined with the absence of judgmental eyes. There was something about this woman that had she not been the High Priestess herself, he would have felt comfortable in her presence.

It was her turn to look him over, now, before she replied, “I seek to understand this Emissary and who he is, that I might better serve Rhais and perform my duty as High Priestess.” Siamak allowed himself a small smile. That was more like an answer he would expect from a priestess, and he was satisfied that it was the whole truth.

“Very well, then,” he said. “I will tell you, though I ask that you do not spread my words around. I prefer not to speak my opinions on most matters to nobles before I am certain.” She readily agreed and Siamak continued. “Quite honestly, I do not trust this Emissary, and even less the Lord Annatar who sent him. I have no proof on which to base my opinion; it is only a feeling. He has been nothing but courteous and generous since arriving, and my father is certainly taken with him - I found out recently that the two have spent the entire afternoon in each other’s company. I am hoping to find out more about the Emissary tonight, but so far he has done nothing to confirm my opinions, though I have become increasingly suspicious. There is something... sinister about the man.” Siamak smiled at her. “Have I sufficiently answered your question?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking thoughtful.

“Good,” he replied warmly. “As long as we are out here, I would ask your own opinion of the Emissary. Since I requested your reason, I will give you mine. I want to know if my mistrust is unfounded, and whether I should be more open-minded of him, for though my opinion is strong I do not like to make unfounded decisions.”