Mountain of Masks by Jeanne Hardt

Author:Jeanne Hardt [Hardt, Jeanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Five full days had passed since Olivia arrived in Thanwine. She had not intended to stay for such a great length of time, but Angeline made her stay so enjoyable, it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Olivia had gotten acquainted with Talman and Varlan, and even their younger sister, Carmela. The girl was sweet, but Angeline had confided in Olivia that Carmela had a different father than her brothers and she had. Even so, Angeline treated her no differently than a full-blooded sister.

Oddly, Carmela had kept her distance, and Olivia had only seen her at mealtimes.

Angeline tugged on Olivia’s hand. “I promise, he will not bite you.” She laughed gaily. “Father is gentle as a lamb.”

Olivia had met every royal in Thanwine, with the exception of King Hadwin. “I have no fear he will harm me, but you said he is quite ill. Are you certain it is wise to disturb him?”

They reached a door bearing the king’s seal. “He wants to meet you.”

“You told me he cannot speak, so how do you know his wishes?”

“When I informed him you were here, he grunted more than usual.” Angeline grinned and opened the door.

Olivia had no choice but to follow her in. Not only would it be impolite to refuse, Angeline had tightened the hold on her hand.

A stale, sickly odor stung the inside of Olivia’s nose. Angeline had failed to say that her father neared death, but it hung in the air as heavy as the ice on the trees outside the castle.

A tall man dressed in a long white robe stood to the side of the bed, hovering over the king. “I see you brought her,” he mumbled. “I do not understand your reasoning, princess. Your father is unaware.” As he spoke, his long, pointed beard moved rigidly with every turn of his head.

Tiny black hairs mixed into a mass of gray that speckled his unusual beard. Aside from his stern demeanor, bald head, and odd facial hair, Olivia found him oddly attractive and assumed him to be scarcely forty. Nothing like the old healer in Padrida.

She stood firm and went no nearer to the bed.

“Dear, dear, Denali,” Angeline said. “Father realizes more than you. He may not speak, but look at his eyes. They say a great deal.”

Denali peered down at the king and shook his head. “He sleeps. I see nothing.”

Angeline giggled and squeezed Olivia’s hand. “Denali has an odd sense of humor, but he is the finest healer in all the realms.” She released Olivia and approached Denali, then smoothed her hand over the top of his bald head. “I appreciate your concern for my father, but you may leave us.”

“Yes, Highness.” He strode away, acknowledging Olivia with only a nod of his head.

After the click of the shutting door, silence hung in the air, until Olivia recognized a faint wheezing coming from the bed. “Angeline, I should not be here. Your father is gravely ill, and I—”

“Shh.” Angeline touched a single finger to her lips.

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