The Last Dragonlord by Joanne Bertin

Author:Joanne Bertin [Bertin, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Speculative Fiction, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780812545418
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 1998-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Alone at the long table in the dining room of the Colranes’ city house, Sherrine picked at her food, pushing it around the plate. The mere thought of eating turned her stomach. She shoved the plate aside.

“Take it away,” she snapped at the serving maid.

An instant later the offending meal was whisked away. The maid fled the room. Sherrine heard murmuring. No doubt the servants were discussing this latest bit of temper, curse them.

Now what? She stared at her hands as she twisted the rings on her fingers. The long, lonely evening—and lonelier night—stretched out before her.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that at first she didn’t heed the sudden babble of voices at the front of the house. Then—

“Oh, gods—no!”

Sherrine stood up, gripping the edge of the table with both hands. Not her mother. Not on this day of all days.

Her mother swept regally into the room. Sherrine pushed away from the table and forced herself to stand upright.

One beautiful eyebrow rose in a disdainful arch. “I knew you’d fail. But not quite so spectacularly, I must admit. Thrown over for a sailor, of all things.”

Sherrine stiffened. The door behind her mother was still open and, though her mother did not raise her voice, from past experience Sherrine well knew the carrying power of her mother’s jibes. Judging by the sudden silence throughout the rest of the house, every servant in the place was eavesdropping. And Sherrine had no illusions that they would keep silent for love of her; the tale would be spread throughout the noble houses of Casna by tomorrow night.

“Thrown over for a sailor,” her mother repeated, “and then dismissed like a thieving steward—all for the sake of some low-born wench. And you took it meekly, didn’t you?”

The words were bitter enough, but the worst was the amused disdain and contempt that dripped from her mother’s voice. And she could find no words of her own to fight back with. She despised herself for her weakness.

“Outsmarted yourself, didn’t you, this time? Thought you were so clever and never saw that Linden Rathan was just amusing himself until something better came along.” Her mother shook her head, smiling scornfully. “And there’s not a thing you can do about it, is there?” she taunted.

Sherrine turned her head away from the hateful truth. There was nothing she could do. She was powerless.

“I knew all along this idiocy of yours would fail. The likes of you would need sorcery to catch a Dragonlord,” her mother said with a final sneer. “You’re a disappointment to me, girl; you always have been. Bah, I’ve no more time to waste on you.”

On the last cutting words her mother gracefully gathered up her skirts and departed. Sherrine stood trembling, unable to move, feeling as if her soul had been torn apart.

Then her spirit rebelled. She had not needed sorcery to catch Linden! Not the first time!

But she would if she were to snare him again. And she thought she knew where to find such magic; she might be powerless, but she knew of one who was not.

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