was only so stunned. I havent met anyone asbeautiful as you.Dylenraised an eyebrow. A small smile followed.Thankyou, Dylen softly said. With a nod at Riodan, he left the room.** * *Hehad ample time to think about Riodan Leyhar as he made his way to theSeralye. An afternoons worth of the youths company had yieldedenough information for Dylen to make a fairly accurate assessment ofhis background.Hissire was not a blueblood but a very wealthy member of the uppergentry. However, Theron Leyhar was not satisfied with mere affluence.He also craved higher social status and worked assiduously towardgaining it, clawing his way up the ranks of the diplomatic corps.That neither Dylen nor his father recognized the name did not meanthe Deir was of no importance. Indeed, Riodan could not hide hispride that his sire was one of Ylandres foremost ambassadors.Rather, it was probably as Hirlen had surmised. Theron Leyhar likelydid not care to avail of the hetharesmany talents, even the purely social ones.Thatwas unusual in that diplomats were very urbane as a rule and mostmade it a point to sample the more sophisticated offerings of thesocieties to which they were posted. Virtually every bachelor envoyof note frequented the Quarter. Furthermore, they oft hosted socialgatherings, and one sure way to guarantee the enjoyment of onesguests was to have a hetharor two around to enliven the proceedings with witty banter, eruditediscussion and skillfully performed music. Assignations were veryrarely part of such arrangements, especially when there were names toprotect and reputations to preserve.Dylencast his speculation aside. Useless to wonder about a Deir he onlyknew secondhand. He turned onto the main street of the Quarter andwalked into its very heart.Locatedin the largely commercial west district, the Quarter was the place togo if one wished to indulge ones self in entertainment andrecreational activity. Here were the venerable theaters and musichalls of Rikara. Here, too, were the great artisans studios andelegant hethareclubs, far removed from the dingy shops and bawdy houses thatlittered the seedy south district. The bulk of the capitalsvarious performers resided in the Quarter as well as many a writerand artist both accomplished and merely aspiring, all seekinginspiration from the colorful folk and their goings on.TheSeralye was not on the main street but on a road just off it. It wasa three-story edifice with a tasteful but unassuming facade. Itcould have passed for an expensive inn were it not for the red andblack border framing the sign above the slightly recessed door.Therewas nothing obvious about the establishment. A liveried doorkeeperquietly welcomed guests when they entered the premises. Unlike in abrothel, no companions loitered in the foyer or on the stairs invarious states of undress. The decor was understated and reminiscentof a stylish townhouse.Uniformedattendants conducted guests up the stairs to the cozy reception roomwhere they had a drink or two while they awaited their hetharof choice. Newcomers who looked likely to frequent the club wereappraised by Zarael Thanar, the Seralyes proprietor and clubmaster, himself a hetharonce upon a long time ago.Guestswho came for social companionship were entertained in any of theclubs many parlors. There were also four spacious taprooms wheregroups