Trials of the Redeemer by Sandra Miller

Author:Sandra Miller [Miller, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Epic Fantasy, Fantasy Romance, triangle, greek muses, royal romance
Publisher: Onda Mountain Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

They spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning in the throne hall. The Singari left their camp outside the gatehouse and helped. With so many hands helping, they had the hall clean by dinnertime.

Alannys could not believe the change in the room. The gold glistened, and the bright walls gleamed in the low light of the torches. The hall was the only really clean room in the castle, but it was breathtakingly beautiful.

They brought in long wooden tables, and everyone ate dinner in the throne hall together. It was probably the most informal dinner that place had ever seen; everyone served themselves and carried their plates back to the tables. But spirits were high and the occasion felt festive.

Alannys had just sat down between Trago and Chen when the rider from the Great Palace arrived, looking a bit lost in the doorway to the busy room.

Trago stood up from the table, laying a hand on Alannys’s shoulder. “I’ll handle this. You go ahead and eat.”

“Finally,” Chen said with satisfaction, watching the new baron’s departing back. “First time I’ve had you to myself all day.”

Alannys laughed. “Oh, and what a great honor that is!”

He poked her in the side. “Quiet, you. I’m just a lowly Singari. I’ll take my honors where I can get them.”

They ate together, watching the proceedings. Trago had the king’s decree proclaiming him Baron of Orinthal mounted on the wall above the ornate throne. He seemed glad to have some official confirmation of his post, and read the proclamation proudly aloud to everyone in the hall.

“Full of himself, isn’t he?” Chen said under his breath, slugging back ale.

Alannys laughed. “Go easy on him, Chen. It is a pretty big deal.” She sipped carefully at her own tankard. The ale was foamy and dark and very, very stout—she couldn’t imagine drinking it the way he was.

“I guess.” He thumped his ale down on the table and stared into it, and she wondered suddenly exactly how much he had drunk—and how fast. “It certainly beats anything I’ve done.”

“Chen? You all right?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer—she almost wondered if he hadn’t heard her, as impossible as that seemed. She heard the rider congratulate Trago, heard Trago invite him to dinner, before Chen spoke. “No.” He sighed. “You know, before you came, I thought I had everything down pretty clear. Life was about fun, and fun—obviously—was about me, whatever pleased me, whatever amused me. I don’t think I ever in my life did something that wasn’t for me or about me.”

“Chen?”

“So tell me how I came to be second in command of the tribe, how I came to be the kind of man who’d spend an entire night camped on a woman’s doorstep to protect her from harm, the kind of man who’d charge into a magic cavern carrying a sword he hardly knows how to use, to fight a madman?”

She stared at him, stricken. What could she say? She couldn’t answer him, but she couldn’t turn away.

“Tell me,”

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