Glissanda by Sara Kingsley

Author:Sara Kingsley [Kingsley, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Fern Books

Chapter 12

“What do you mean dead?” I’m sure I’ve not heard her clearly.

Imogen claps her hands together, gleeful. “That’s right. King Araroa passed an hour ago. Good thing you got to say goodbye.”

The throbbing in my head’s getting more violent.

“I thought he had at least another week—maybe two? Or could have gotten well … perhaps?”

“Nope.” Imogen grabs the bottle from Nile’s hand, deftly peels the gold wrapping off the neck, pops the cork out. She hands the bottle to me, grinning. “Congratulations, to our heir apparent, our next Woman King of Nadir. And our soon-to-be Duke Araroa of Nadir.” She nods toward Leif, who’s grinning down at me; he wraps an arm around me, tugs me close, and kisses the top of my head.

My response is to grab the bottle from her, place the mouth to my lips, and take a good, long slug. The fiery liquid burns my throat; my stomach lights on fire. It feels amazing.

The throbbing ceases.

I wipe the brandy dribbling down my chin with my sleeve, and hand the bottle to Leif. He accepts it without hesitation, takes a long swig of his own, and offers the brandy to Nile.

Imogen tips the bottle at me after her turn taking a drink. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you worry, m’lady. ”

“You do?”

She winks at me. “Well, perhaps not everything. But I do know we’ll get your sword back. Especially now that the Palace is in mourning. Nothing can happen for seven days, so we have plenty of time to prepare.”

“What about the Prince … Dominic? He’s not going to simply hand it over … my sword or control of Nadir.”

Imogen takes another swig of brandy, then shakes her head. “He’s just a kid. We don’t need to worry about him.” She holds the bottle toward me again.

That’s certainly not the impression I got of him, but I don’t have the energy to argue. I accept the bottle, but take only a small sip.

“Does he—the Prince—know about the Treasoners outside, do you think?”

Imogen corks the bottle after we all indicate we’ve had enough. “I don’t believe so.”

“What about the Loyalists?”

“They are guarding the gate, determined not to let anyone inside. But they’re not from the Bastion, are they?” She winks at me; I know she’s referring to the drain tunnels that run underneath the walls—well hidden but highly unpleasant, flowing with sewage and filth.

“I’ll come see the Treasoners in the morning. If that’s all right?”

“Indeed, m’lady. I’ll see you safe to them.”

“We should get some rest,” Leif whispers in my ear. I don’t argue, with it being well past midnight by now.

“You two can sleep upstairs, in Leif’s old room. Nile and I will keep a lookout,” Imogen says.

I thank them both, then follow Leif up the ladder to the kitchen upstairs.

There are only two small rooms off the main living quarters. Leif motions for me to enter the smallest of them, hardly bigger than a closet. It’s dark—just a sliver of moonlight makes its way through a tiny window.

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