Heart of Briar by Laura Anne Gilman

Author:Laura Anne Gilman [Gilman, Laura Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780373803552
Google: PsHresojnUkC
Publisher: LUNA
Published: 2013-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

He had woken in the starlight, restless and alone. The air was still and quiet; no insects sang here at night, no birds at dawn. Drawing on his robe, he wandered down the hallway, the rose-colored tile floor cool under his feet, until he came to the archway that led into the garden.

She was there, sitting on a stone bench that looked out, away from the sleeping garden and out into the misty fields beyond. He had no idea what lay beyond those fields, if there was a city filled with life and lights, or farmlands, or nothing at all, the world fading out into mist until there was only the void.

“You’re restless.” Her voice was a rope that drew him to her, and he did not even think to resist.

“Something bothers you.”

“And that drew you from slumber, and to my side.” She sounded more thoughtful than usual, less amused at his expense. He knew that about her now, that she took amusement from his confusion and pain, and did not resent it. How could he? Her whim was his reason.

“I have been here too long, and I grow weary of these walls,” she said. “Weary and fretful, and I do not like either sensation. I know the logic, I approve of the reason, I agreed to the limits, agreed to this experiment, and what I must sacrifice. But we are not meant to be caged, penned like beasts, told whither and when we might go. Not this long, without respite. Not once we have tasted the airs of freedom.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. She wasn’t speaking to him, for all that he was her only company.

“He orders us to his bidding as though it were his right to do so, and yet I may not go out into the world, not with my work undone. He is fretful, worried, bitter, and I have no desire to listen to the others bleating at my failures while they sit and do nothing. And all the while it sits there, taunting us. She taunts us.”

He sat, quiet and empty, letting her words fill him, direct him. He must have done it well, because she turned to look at him, considering. Something inside him quailed, some least remnant of fear, and then was silenced by her presence.

“But, yes, I have options they do not; options that could give me an advantage.” Her beautiful eyes were now clouded, as though she were looking somewhere that he could not see. “Yes. If it could be done, it would put me ahead, perhaps be the chance I need. I could claim it as a test, and none might gainsay me. All I need do is manage it.”

Her voice softened, and he could see that she was aware of him again. Her entire demeanor changed, from distant to coaxing, enticing. “Would you accompany me, sweet man? Would you walk beyond these gardens, your hand in mine?”

There was a moment of

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