(eng) Lynn Kurland - Nine Kingdoms 06 by Gift of Magic

Author:Gift of Magic [Magic, Gift of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

he day dragged on with a slowness that only someone who had grown to manhood in Shettlestoune where the scenery never changed no matter how many leagues were traveled could possibly appreciate. Ruith had only vague memories of the afternoon, which mostly included sitting in that very small chamber and speaking of nothing. Sarah had been pale and grave, Mansourah overly solicitous, and Franciscus apparently unwilling to discuss anything but the most trivial of matters with Fréam and Leaghra. Ruith would have escaped with Sarah and at least gone for a walk, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to draw any more attention to them than they had already just by arriving. So he’d sat to the side of the hearth, felt too tired to even nap, and wished the day would end. The sun had set eventually, and they had been summoned to a supper that hadn’t been terrible but certainly wasn’t anything he would have thought about for months afterward. Now he limited himself to watching the goings-on in the midst of the hall with a jaundiced eye.

Which goings-on included Mansourah of Neroche, that bumbling oaf, dancing with that glorious, grave, Sarah of Cothromaiche, whom he was fairly certain he had indicated he wanted to wed.

He hoped she’d been listening.

“Easy, lad.”

Ruith glanced at Franciscus who was sitting next to him. “I am well, my lord. Thank you.”

Franciscus laughed softly. “Surely you aren’t jealous of that whelp out there. After all, it isn’t as though he’s handsome, or disgustingly wealthy, or walks about the world’s stage with a deprecating air that belies his magic, his skill with a bow, or his ability to dance and leave every maid in the hall swooning with delight.”

“Are you helping me?” Ruith asked sourly.

Franciscus laughed a little. “Seeing where your heart lies, I suppose.”

“I believe you’re painfully aware of that already, Your Highness, aren’t you?”

“Aye, Ruith,” Franciscus said, his smile grave, “I am.”

“I would ask you for her hand, but at the moment I’m not sure I could pry it away from that prancing fool out there.”

“I wouldn’t worry about him,” Franciscus said mildly, “though if you want my suggestion you’ll remind her of your ability to survive without a valet—unlike young Mansourah out there. I would also suggest a walk in a moonlit garden, but I’m not sure I would venture outside the hall tonight.” He sobered. “I don’t like what I feel there.”

Ruith sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Neither do I.”

“You should also know that it is with a great deal of trepidation that I come along with you as merely a disinterested observer and leave the actual solving of this tangle to you.”

“If that is the case, then where does saving me from Morag this morning fall under that vow?”

“I was saving you and Sarah, and I was continuing a battle begun long before you were born that was mine to fight, not yours.” He looked at Ruith inscrutably. “Yours will come later, I fear. And that is one I wouldn’t fight for you even if I could.

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