The Promise of Rain by Shana Abe

Author:Shana Abe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

They were expected back at the castle.

As they approached, the children playing games around the adults, Lorlmar’s occupants came out of the keep to meet them, not quite scolding, mothers and nurses and a few soldiers, as well. Everyone remarked on the storm, the brief flurry of tumult at midday, the loudness of the thunder, the closeness of the lightning. Soon the children could be heard describing the danger in great detail, how brave they were, how they rescued the others, each tale more expansive than the last.

Marla had released Kyla’s hand and exchanged it for Elysia’s as they reached the gate, swinging off into the interior of the keep with one last farewell smile and then a guiding glance over to Roland, who was with his men, laughing, brushing his wet hair out of his face.

The children were dispersing in twos and threes, going off to their nursery to get dry. It seemed a good idea. Other than one look on the way back—she supposed to ensure that she hadn’t been left behind—Roland had not bothered with her again. In fact, he seemed to be going to great pains to avoid even being near her. He was standing now with his back to her as the people swarmed away, and after an uncertain moment, Kyla joined them and went inside.

Through sheer luck or just persistence she managed to find her chamber again, entering with relief that her memory had not failed her, and even greater relief that she had not heard any further mysterious footsteps trailing her.

The bedroom held the last light of the storm, blurring the edges of the shadows, darkening every color with misty illusion.

Off came the wet gown, the bliaut, everything, laid out to dry over a pair of chairs by the fireplace. She rubbed herself dry with a soft blanket from the bed, wrapping it around her, patting her still-braided hair with the trailing ends of it as she crossed the floor, intent on finding another gown.

But to get to the chest with her clothing—all neatly put away now, she noticed—she had to pass the main window, which held a view she had not yet examined. It arrested her, the tops of trees, emerald bits of the sloping hillsides, the jagged edge of a line of cliffs. Off to the right was the ocean itself, a pewtered sweep of water stretching away until it became lost in the horizon.

The clouds were rolling up into themselves, flat on the bottoms with puffed curlicues on the tops, the lavender of them now growing stained with glorious purple and scarlet and orange from the sinking sun.

She was leaning against the base of the windowsill, lost in her reverie, when the door behind her opened.

Roland passed through, almost having to duck his head down to clear the arch of the doorway. “Kyla? I’ve been looking—”

He stopped when he saw her and she stood frozen as well, half turned, both of them captured in the perfect harmony of the

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