The Green Count by Christian Cameron

Author:Christian Cameron [Cameron, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2017-06-19T21:00:00+00:00

Prince Francesco had another feast for us that night, and although there had been nothing formal about the deed of arms, he did hand a crown of gold to Miles. Miles had never won anything in his life, and he was transported. Pretty women fawned on him, and he was unable to decide what to do about it.

I shook my head. I still do; this was a man who’d fought his way into Alexandria and stood his ground in a dozen actions, but the attention of three Italian maids flustered him so badly that he was speechless. One had on a sideless surcoat and under it her kirtle, which laced up her side. But the laces were very tight and she showed a fine stretch of flesh from hip to underarm – the very ‘gates of Hell’ referred to so often by priests in sermons. Even Miles took notice.

Nerio went and stood with him a moment, and made all three young maidens smile. One of them blushed. Nerio whispered in Miles’s ear and walked back to me.

He rolled his eyes.

‘He’s afraid of them,’ Nerio said.

“And you told him?’ I asked.

‘To flatter their intelligence,’ he said. ‘Women want to be told how smart they are.’

‘Fie, Ser Nerio,’ my wife said, at his elbow. ‘All the romances say women want to hear of their beauty.’

Nerio shrugged, smiling at her. ‘Most women are perfectly aware of their beauty,’ he said. ‘They are less sure of their brilliance.’

‘And this is the key to your success with women, Ser Nerio?’ my wife asked.

‘Yes,’ Nerio said.

‘And you tell foolish, empty-headed girls how intelligent they are?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ Nerio said. ‘Especially them.’

Emile told me later that it took all her matronly wisdom not to strike his masculine self-assurance.

‘I was one of those girls,’ she said to my chest. ‘It is their age, not their lack of wit. And he preys on them.’

Yes. And so had I. Perhaps this is the age-old war between men and women. Which is mostly, I suspect, about youth, and innocence, and age, and experience.

Bah. I sound so old.

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