Snowfall by Brandon Cornwell

Author:Brandon Cornwell [Cornwell, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

9th Waning Hunger Moon, Year 4368

Amethyst, Giriraj, Ceara, and Eamon sat around the dining table. Ceara lounged back, one foot up on Eamon's lap, while the young man hunched over to eat his food. She smirked at him, then over at Giriraj.

“I have to say, it seemed like a success, didn't it?”

The Master of Earth nodded. “As usual. Nothing can resist the combined might of two Masters.”

The Master of Water blew a raspberry at him. “Sometimes, Giriraj, I wonder if you're just intent on being dour. I think it's been at least a century since I've seen you smile. Maybe more.”

Giriraj took a bite of the roast turkey on his plate, not responding.

Amethyst cleared her throat. “So, what was the ritual for last night?”

The room fell silent as the other three stared at her. Giriraj narrowed his eyes slightly, then turned back to his food. “This is not a question that one asks, especially not an apprentice. If you are involved in a ritual, then you know the purpose. If you are not, then you do not. That's all there is.”

“She's new,” said Ceara, taking a drink from her goblet. “She'll learn our ways over time. One isn't born knowing etiquette, you know. If we were, they wouldn't have to write all the rules down in books.”

Giriraj finished his meal, pushing his plate away. “Amethyst, see to our guests until they are ready to depart. Assist them as they need you. When you are done, come to me for further instruction.”

“Yes, Giriraj,” she said as he rose from the table.

Ceara watched him walk out of the room then sighed, swinging her feet from Eamon's lap to the ground. “Be a dear and go gather up my things. Make sure you leave nothing behind. Wait for me there when you are done.”

“Yes, Master,” said Eamon, who hurriedly drained his goblet and grabbed a bread roll. Hopping up from his chair, he left through the door to the bath chamber, leaving Amethyst and Ceara alone.

The older woman leaned back in her chair, swirling the wine in her goblet as she watched Amethyst. She seemed to be studying her for a moment, before she leaned forward, setting her cup on the table and tapping her fingernails against it.

“You turned him down last night.”

Amethyst paused, looking up at the mage, feeling very on the spot under her scrutiny. “I did. Did he tell you?”

Ceara snorted. “A blind field mouse could see that a mile off. He's frustrated, you're timid, and he was particularly vigorous last night.”

Amethyst flushed. “Oh. I thought that... you and Eamon...”

“Oh, that we did! We shook the sheets once or twice, for sure! But if there's a way to move things around, as it were, well, why not use that one? I enjoy myself, he enjoys himself, toss in a bit of focus, pomp, and circumstance, and we also achieve a goal.” She sipped from her goblet, not breaking eye contact with Amethyst. “Of all the Masters you could have come under, coming under Giriraj is definitely not the worst option.

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