Eva bowed. The full Court bow, wings tucked, eyes down, and everything.
"Evangelina," her mother said. "You look thin."
"Mother. Aunt Sariel." Eva straightened. "Assessor Alcanterra."
"Oh, none of that." Feodora Alcanterra smiled at her. She was tall even for an Aevari, silver-haired, maybe four hundred years old, and she wore the blue-trimmed vestments of a High Doctrine-Assessor. "You used to call me Auntie Fea. Do you remember? You'd sit on my knee during the winter convocations and ask why the hymns had to be so long."
"I remember you told me the length was the point."
"And I was right." Feodora clasped her hands. "Look at you. Second-year at a merchant academy. Paid commissions. Your name on formation work. The Courts have been reading your file with great interest, Evangelina."
Eva kept her face pleasant. Or, at least, she tried to.
