Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (part 18)

Rana nodded and pushed herself to her feet, straightening her clothes and looking at herself in the mirror. Enough of that, now. She'd verified she looked suitably stupid to suit her father. Now to do her best to forget what a freak show she looked like. "Thank you again." She stepped for the door.

"Good luck, miss!" The servant gave a little wave.

Rana forced a little smile and dipped her head, returning the wave, and stepped out into the hall. She reluctantly made her way to where she assumed the tea was to be held, bracing herself as she walked to put on the show of her life. Generals weren’t people she could afford to mess up around.

The parlor was all the way across the palace, near the guest suites. It was a salon-style room decked out in elegant columns and decorated floor to ceiling with paintings, many of which featured the tree of life or the Jackrabbit. Cairbry was already there; he'd changed his shoes, which had gotten muddy in the grass, but other than that he looked about the same.
General Moora Feyer sat on a couch across from him, one leg crossed over the other. She was dressed in full military uniform, which consisted of an olive-gray coat and black trousers. Medals adorned both sides of her coat, and her boots were thoroughly polished. A ceremonial sword hung at her side, sheathed in a green scabbard with gold filigree. She was wigless, but her graying hair was kept short and combed down to her skull. Her steely blue eyes were fixed on one of the paintings as Cairbry prattle on.

Rana walked in quietly, offering a little smile to no one in particular as she braced herself for whatever was going to come.

"Ah, Rana." Cairbry waved her over. "Finally. You remember General Feyer?" The General rose; she wasn't tall--average height, but she was built sturdily and had a stern face. She gave a little bow at the waist.
"Milady," she said in a surprisingly normal voice. "Pleased to see you again after such a long time."

“Good afternoon, General.” Rana did a little curtsy. “The pleasure is all mine; how do you do?”

"Quite well. Weary of war and horses, but well." She dipped her head and sat back down. "And yourself?"

“Very well, thank you.” Rana dipped her head and sat down next to her father, on the other side of the couch, out of easy arm’s reach.

"I hear you're headed North for some sort of diplomatic mission," she said, reaching for the teapot. "Things are tense up there."

“Yes ma’am.” Rana resisted the urge to send an annoyed glance at her father. “…hopefully we will be well-received.”

"They're polite to their guests," Feyer mused. "But there's not much protocol. One of 'em lets his servants call him by his first name, did you know that? But they're formidable adversaries. They have a tribal aspect to them...rough and ready types in a fight, you know? More a family than an army."

Rana blinked at that. “Which one?”

"Oh, that'd be Ash. He's a sort of peasant Lord, I suppose. Born noble but lived a couple years among the farming folk and thinks that means he doesn't need titles and whatnot." She tutted. "But I hear you're visiting him, and the other warmongers."
"We'd like to see who we'd most benefit from by supporting," Cairbry interjected.
"Ash and Loquitur," Feyer said immediately. "No contest. Tarr's still young; he has no idea what he's doing. Ash has the largest standing army in the Realm, excluding the King's. And he's the richest Lord by far. He's got connections, resources, and his little brother's forces will serve as a bolster to all that."
"Even so."

Rana glanced between them. Why was her father so stupid? That seemed clear what the right answer here was. Why deal with a brute like Tarr if he didn’t have to? She stayed quiet, though. She knew better than to talk now.