The Stars Wait Not by Anne Wheeler

Author:Anne Wheeler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anne Wheeler

Chapter Eleven

His brother swept into the hilltop mansion the next morning, scorning Lina’s offer of tea. Just the sweet wine, please, he’d said when he arrived, and Kresten was so relieved at the rare use of the word please that he hadn’t argued that getting drunk before breakfast was unbecoming of anyone, much less the emperor’s second son. It was a waste of breath to argue with Vidar most of the time, and with his brother on some kind of mission, hopefully not assigned by the emperor himself . . . well, his only goal right now was to finish the visit and have Vidar depart as quickly as possible, leaving as little damage as possible behind him.

“So?” Vidar asked, perching on the hearth of the great room’s fireplace, his glass of wine in hand. “Where is she?”

For some reason, his brother had chosen the hearth instead of the half dozen chairs scattered around, like he intended to spring away once his task was accomplished. Maybe the large stones that made up the chimney would collapse on him, running him and that ridiculous formal jacket off quicker. What kind of man wore silk to a rustic cabin in the mountains, anyway?

Kresten waved an idle finger over his shoulder at Lina in reply. No small talk after the Cereth assignment was disappointing, for family was family, and on some base level he did love Vidar. At the same time, it was the best he could have hoped for—Vidar would do whatever he planned to do, then leave. Thank the Realm.

Lina’s footsteps clicked in the hallway, then disappeared. Kresten took another sip of his own sweet wine, grown and cellared in Governor Camden’s district, of all places. It was too strong for so early in the morning, so he closed his eyes as he swallowed and prayed Ryllis wouldn’t fight the summons. A few doors hissed in the background, and he took a bigger gulp as two pairs of footsteps returned. Lina led Ryllis into the center of the room, nodded at both him and Vidar, and disappeared. There was no doubt she was returning to her own drink somewhere far away from the whole scene.

Vidar approached Ryllis as she stood with her eyes on the floor, absolute fascination on his face. Something had surprised him, that much was clear, though whether it was the fact Ryllis existed at all or that she was wearing a dress completely inappropriate for a slave was anyone’s guess. They’d picked it out together that morning, a gray-colored piece of silk that matched both the mountain clouds and her eyes, with a skirt that hung just below her knees and enough delicate lace flowers on the hem to make one wonder about the price.

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