Snippet

That doesn't exactly clear it up, but Connie did just post a new snipett to clear it up.

from Ri'Kita ~ A Connie Suttle Fan Group
Connie Suttle:
Okay--since the post on the snippet from WhiteWing wouldn't let me comment, I'll do this instead. Hope this sets the record straight on it and Corolan--I goofed when I put Corolan's name in that snippet; I should have used Wellend's name and the ms has been changed to reflect that. Also, here's another snippet from WhiteWing that will (hopefully) set everybody's mind at ease and explain a few things.


Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
Wellend arrived with Warlend, asking to have a private dinner with me. It was an unexpected visit, but they were family—my great grandfather and uncle, as it were. They wished to tell me something; I merely had to wait to see what it was.
They no longer looked like Corolan and Warrik, Wylend's former guard and seneschal. They looked like themselves, as they had millennia ago. They'd served in those capacities for Rylend, too, before Zaria revealed their true identities. Ry still trusted both with his life, although they no longer served at the palace.
"We came to ah, clear the air a little," Warlend's forehead creased with concern. He worried that I'd judge him and Wellend, both.
"For sleeping with Wylend?" I lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, for appearing to sleep with him," the furrows deepened on Warlend's forehead. I'd hit the nail on the head with the first blow. I was about to tell him that I wasn't concerned with what was in the past, but that would be a lie.
"We had to stay near the throne; I hope you understand that," Wellend began.
"I understand that. What do you mean, appearing to sleep?"
"Look, we're talking sex here, not sleeping, and we didn't," Warlend growled.
"How did you pull that off?" I demanded. "Wylend practically wrote poetry to Corolan, he was so good in bed."
"Because it was all in his mind, and that generally tends to be better than the real thing, as often as not. Not that I'm a slouch, you understand. Reah has no regrets, I believe."
"Jeez Louise," I rose from my seat at the table placed inside the arboretum for this private dinner. Reah. Corolan—Warlend—was mated to Reah. How had I forgotten that?
"We've talked. She's coming to terms with all this," Warlend said softly. I had my back turned to him and Wellend by this time. Like Reah, I imagined, I was having difficulty coming to terms with it as well.
"How did you pull that off?" I whirled to face them again. "Wylend is fifth level. You weren't—Erland said you were both third level or thereabouts."
Wellend coughed and looked guilty before ducking his head. It hit me, then. Corolan had been stronger than a third level—I'd known that myself about him. It was why Wylend allowed him to act as a bodyguard, or disguise himself and sit the throne. A fake throne, I reminded myself.
"Zaria did that," I blinked at both of them.
"The ones we resembled—when she changed us to look like them, their power was added to our own," Warlend admitted. "She didn't tell us to fool Wylend after that, we came up with that on our own, to stay close to the throne."
"We worried at first that someone would attempt a second coup—there were still angry factions among the population. We acted as members of Wylend's personal guard at first, until our—ah—talent at diplomacy came to his attention," Wellend added.
"He wanted us as lovers after a while; we accommodated that request—in our own way, of course. By giving him the best sex dreams he'd ever had."
"An unusual talent," I said dryly. Taking my seat at the table again, my eyes wandered from Warlend to Wellend. "I wish Wylend hadn't done what he did to you," I nodded to Wellend. "Removing your ability to father a child—that's treasonous. I feel it was karma biting his ass when he didn't find Griffin until thousands of years later."
"The universes turn in strange ways, at times," Warlend said. "I'm grateful to my granddaughter that I'm alive and have more power than before. Together, Wellend and I have protected the Karathian throne, even when we didn't always agree with Wylend's decisions or actions."
"The perennial problem of serving royalty," I agreed, allowing my shoulders to sag. I realized I'd been holding myself stiffly and had an aching neck and shoulders for my trouble.
"Let's have some wine," I suggested. "I think this has been difficult for all of us and we need to loosen up a little. Let's leave the past where it is." I gave both a smile and lifted the bottle of white from its wine bucket.

Hope that helps--Connie

OMG This is ...
I'm lost for words!

And a little more from Connie on Ri'Kita ~ A Connie Suttle Fan Group

Connie Suttle
yes. Here's more of the snippet, from Ilya's POV:

For years uncounted, he'd led a dual existence, much as I had. He and his father Warlend, King before Wellend, had operated under two separate identities.
Like me, I imagined the Mighty Heart or one of the others had seen to that. It takes a great deal of power to allow someone to exist in two places at the same time. My two identities merged the moment I sat in my seat at the trial on Karathia. Corolan and Warrik. Gale and Norn. I imagined it was the same for them; they'd all been present at the trial, too. What difference did it make in the long term? They were one and the same, now; all four had disappeared, leaving only Wellend and Warlend behind.

Quin
"We have this." Sal set a comp-vid on the table. He'd called a quick meeting after hearing from Director Griff. Zaria, Bleek, Edden, Berel, Terrett and Lafe sat at the table with me, waiting to see what Sal had to say.
There was no mistaking the images on the comp-vid. Bleek's photograph, next to mine in my former disguise, were very prominent. "These were found on the assassin's sites," Sal informed us. "They're offering a substantial reward for both of you—Bleek dead, Quin alive."
"Good." Bleek folded all four arms across his chest with a satisfied grunt.
"I really don't like that you're a target," Zaria informed him quietly. He turned toward her, then. I could tell he was touched that she cared.
"I can cross my arms over my chest, too," she told him, her voice tart.
"Yes, but two arms just don't have the same effect," he grinned.
"Oh, sure, pull out the four-arm card," she snipped. "Followed by the six-lobe card."
"It works," he chuckled.
"You're insufferable," she swatted one of his arms.
"No—if I had two cocks, I'd be insufferable. As it is, I'm merely confident."

"No—if I had two cocks, I'd be insufferable. As it is, I'm merely confident."

Connie cracks me up.