Night Season (WP4) by Wilks Eileen

Author:Wilks, Eileen [Wilks, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Werewolves, Paranormal, General, Romance, Science Fiction, Fiction, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780425220153
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2008-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cynna's chambers consisted of two rooms. The bedroom was tiny, more like a nest than a room, being mostly bed. A huge, thick mattress overflowing with a whole rainbow's worth of pillows and blankets covered almost all the floor.

The sitting room was bigger, but no less colorful. Ocher walls extruded themselves to form a bench that made a U out of one end of the room. The wall-bench was wide enough for a human tush, but less than a foot above the floor—a good height for a gnome, she supposed. It, too, was crowded with cushions in many colors. There were two straight wooden chairs built for a human-size person—one orange, one purple. No cushions. Both looked uncomfortable.

The whole place was uncomfortable, and it wasn't just the colors.

At the other end of the room was a round table a lot like the one in her hotel room back home, only with shorter legs and painted bright blue. Four fat floor cushions surrounded it. Between the table and one end of the bench was a cupboard painted green and yellow and black.

A short, dark-haired woman stood in front of the cupboard. Her name was Adrienne. She wore a knee-length yellow dress with gray trousers and a long gray vest; her hair was long and braided. She was about fifty years old and she was human—she'd told Cynna that when she announced she was Cynna's maid. She'd shown Cynna how to control the mage lights drifting around the ceiling with a couple words in the Common Tongue, repeated what Cynna had been told about the location of the common rooms, explained that the baths were underground—where she seemed to think she was going to wash Cynna personally.

Not going to happen. But a shampoo would be nice.

At the moment Adrienne was holding up a dress she'd taken from the cupboard. It was long, shiny, and dizzyingly bright—green and pink and gold playing tag all over a lipstick red background.

It made Cynna's head hurt. "You've got to be kidding."

"Dalnee horra fall nutty sieve matta play, noresh," the woman said. Or something like that. The charm whispered to Cynna, "This would be appropriate for meeting with the Council, madam."

"Can't you get me some pants? Something… plainer. Like what I'm wearing, only clean."

Adrienne looked pained and launched into a long explanation about colors and caste and stuff. Cynna tried to pay attention, but her mind wasn't cooperating.

He hadn't known. That's what she kept thinking, over and over. He hadn't known.

Daniel Weaver had escorted them to their rooms, chatting amiably all the while about the problems with applying what he knew of science and engineering ("Not much," he'd said cheerfully, "but I was ever a history buff, and the older things work better here.") to innovations useful in Edge. Cynna hadn't really listened. She'd been thinking about that elf-woman and the way she'd put her hands on Cullen. Cynna had wanted to toss that frail, lovely body somewhere. Just pick her up and throw her.

That wasn't the reaction of a friend.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.