The Story Peddler by Lindsay A. Franklin

Author:Lindsay A. Franklin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gilead Publishing
Published: 2018-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Braith

Braith stood before the king’s door. Her hand was poised to knock, but she hesitated.

Had enough time passed since council? She had taken her evening meal in her chambers the previous night, then avoided the king’s table for breakfast this morning. But would she find him angry still about her call for mercy the previous day?

Braith almost turned to leave. But no. She must find it if she could. The king’s behavior had become too troublesome to ignore.

She rapped on the door.

The wooden barrier creaked on its hinges. The face of Baedden, the king’s bodyguard, appeared in the opening. He grunted.

The towering man never spoke more than a rumble or two.

Braith fixed her features into a pleasant mask. “Good morning, Baedden. Is my father available?”

Baedden paused, glanced over his shoulder. Then he turned back to Braith and nodded once. He opened the door fully and allowed her access to the king’s front chamber.

Oil lamps dotted the walls of King Gareth’s room. The firelight shimmered along the scar that stretched the length of Baedden’s face on the left side.

Braith shuddered.

Baedden escorted her to the door of the king’s study. His face bunched into a scowl and he nodded to the door.

Braith inclined her head. “Thank you, sir.”

She used “sir” in the loosest sense of the word. Baedden was nothing more than a gruff mercenary.

Braith knocked on the study door. “Father?”

Silence.

She tried again. “Majesty?”

Movement stirred within the study. Then his brusque voice. “Yes?”

Braith steeled herself and entered the room. The king stood behind his huge desk, fingers drumming the polished writing surface. He stared at the floor and mumbled to himself. He had not changed from his dressing robe.

Braith frowned. “Father?”

The king started like he’d forgotten anyone had been at the door. “Oh, hello, darling.”

Darling. Did that mean she’d been forgiven?

She smiled. “How are you this morning, Father?”

“Unwell, Braith.” His face twisted into a troubled grimace. “Quite unwell.”

Braith hesitated. It seemed the events of afternoon council the previous day had been forgotten. Perhaps it was best not to bring it up. But if he was still offended, better to apologize now than feel his wrath later.

“I hope you are not unwell on account of me, Your Majesty,” Braith said.

“What?” The king’s stormy gray eyes lifted from the floor and he turned to her. “You, darling?”

“Our disagreement at council yesterday.”

“Oh, that.” The king waved his hand. “No, no.”

“Oh.” Braith paused a moment, frowning. Then she crossed the room toward the king and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Then something else troubles you.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Nothing to be done about that.”

He seemed to speak more to the late-morning air beyond the glass panes than to Braith. After a moment, he gave a fierce shake of his head and resumed pacing. Braith’s hand slipped from his shoulder.

Then his voice boomed so suddenly, Braith jumped. “It is the disloyalty of my people that troubles me.”

“Disloyalty, Your Majesty?”

“Do my armies not protect the people of Tir? Do my temples not keep the people pious and

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