Randi hasn't outright said that he's keeping something back - something huge - but Shavri can tell. And she can see how much distress it's causing him. 

"Please don't do that," she says quietly. 

"I'm not going to. One of the first pieces of advice I remember Darvi giving me, on ruling, was 'don't give orders you know won't be obeyed.' I, gods, the last thing I need is to make it even more obvious to the entire Senior Circle that Vanyel outranks me in practice." 

"Randi, love, I..." Shavri trails off. Shakes her head. "That's not what I meant. It would be bad for him, I think. He's - scared and hurting and I'm certain he expects you to be furious with him. And...I know him - you know him - Vanyel's not a coward. He's one of the bravest people I've ever known. If he was scared enough to beg Iomedae's people for help getting out of Valdemar -" 

"I don't want to be angry with him! He's carrying so much - I get that. But, just, it'd be a lot easier if he didn't keep doing things like this!" 

Shavri winces visibly. 

She doesn't want to be here. This conversation is the last thing she feels like dealing with, right now. But she can recognize the look in her partner's eyes when he needs her. 

"...And you're carrying a lot as well," she says softly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hands. "You're scared. So am I. Everything is - tense, and complicated, and a mess, and there are a hundred different ways it could go wrong..." 

Randi sighs heavily. "- At least we're about to get the stupid Asmodean diplomats out of the city. Savil's doing the Gate in an hour and then they'll head out and that'll be one less thing that can go horribly wrong." 

Shavri's shoulders tense. She rolls them, forces them to relax. 

"And we'll have a different thing that could go horribly wrong instead. Do you really think they'll be safe in Cheliax?" 

"- I think the Chelish diplomats will stick to the letter of their agreements with us." 

But there's going to be a war. Cheliax doesn't - at least they hope it doesn't - know that, not yet, but. 

Shavri doesn't say this out loud. It's the sort of thing to minimize talking about even in private and behind shields - especially given that Jisa is, as far as Shavri knows, home and in her room right now, and she has a habit of listening at doors... 

She just squeezes her lifebonded's hand again, in silence. 

Carissa Sevar hangs out invisibly and intangibly, mindreading people and thinking.

Rovira writes down the conversation between Randi and Shavri for when someone has time to take a look at it.

Vanyel sits with Leareth and squeezes his hand and occasionally says reassuring things until he's pretty sure Vanyel is now actually asleep and not just very convincingly pretending to be. Nayoki's checking, this time; it's a lot harder to trick Mindhealing Sight. 

:Stay with him, please: he tells Nayoki and one of the Healers. :If he wakes up, you can call me over: 

He heads down the hall to check on Rovira and the status of the scry on Haven. 

The scry has expired - it was ten minutes, and they've been an eventful ten minutes - but Rovira hands him the transcript. 

He reads through it. 

Looks unhappily at her. 

Reads it again. 

"...We absolutely cannot send him back there. He is in no condition to have to deal with - that." 

"Does he...want to go back? I didn't get the sense he did."

"I think he does not! I am worried that King Randale might change his mind and try to demand that I send him, though. And - even if he does not do that, I know Vanyel; if he learns how upset they are over there, he will probably volunteer to go just to smooth things over. So I am not going to tell him, until he is more recovered - assuming he recovers and does not..."

Leareth trails off. He's still calm, the no-fear effect is helpful, but he's on a different level surprisingly distressed at the thought of losing Vanyel. They're not even sure if he could get an afterlife - though maybe Iomedae could sort out something - but of course if Vanyel wants to die because he hates the thought of having to go on existing without his Companion, then he probably would try to refuse that - 

"He's in a lot of pain. I agree that it seems like a terrible idea to try to make him - feel obliged to go smooth things over with Valdemar, right now - Ignasi can do that..."

Leareth nods. 

"- Anyway, I am - less worried that King Randale is a security risk, regarding - what we spoke of earlier." He's not going to say Aroden's name out loud. "And it is good to know that the Asmodean delegation will be leaving Haven soon, if all goes smoothly there." 

"Yes. I hope the Valdemarans are safe in Cheliax. I am not sure they will be."

"Neither am I. ...Does Iomedae's church have any resources to - keep an eye on them from a distance? I suppose at the very least we should try to make sure they are not there in ten days' time. I can try to find out how long a trip they have planned." 

"We can scry them periodically. We have agents in Cheliax but I don't have a way to communicate with them, or indeed know who they are."

Nod. "Fair enough, that is a sensible way to run things. Scrying them is a good idea. Anyway - if nothing else urgently needs handling, then I think I will go sit with Vanyel. I can do my work from there." 

"Of course."

Back in the area near a remote Guard-post in the northern half of Valdemar, Yfandes is still curled up, nose-to-tail, mostly not interacting except to occasionally nibble at the frequently-refreshed pile of clover. 

It's nice, not being alone. She wouldn't have expected that; being around any of the other Companions feels like one of the worst things in the world, right now. But the paladins of Iomedae are...different. 

For one, they're not pushing her. They're not trying to shove her in the 'right' direction. (Maybe they don't know what the 'right' direction is, any more than she does.) They're just...being there. 

It must have been many candlemarks, apparently. It's nearly sunset. The light is slanting and golden and catches on the wind-dancing leaves of a poplar tree nearby.

...There's a tiny sapling a couple of yards away, straggling up on the edge of the meadow. Reaching toward the sun, and warped by that hunger for light - most of its leaves are on the sunny side, not the shaded side that faces the deeper, darker woods...