Weis, Margaret - Sovereign Stone 01 - Well of Darkness by Weis Margaret

Author:Weis, Margaret [Weis, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061755620
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Dagger of the Vrykyl

“Your Highness,” said Silwyth quietly, speaking low in the prince’s ear, so that the attendant lords could not hear. “Gareth requests that you meet him in the old playroom this day at the supper hour. He has something of great urgency to impart.”

“Does he, indeed?” said Dagnarus, sipping chocolate.

“You are looking in unusually high spirits this morning, Your Highness,” said one of the fawning lords.

“Thank you, Lord Malroy, I am in an excellent humor. Perhaps because the weather is so fine.”

“Fine weather, Your Highness?” said the lord blankly.

“There was a terrible storm last night, Your Highness,” said Silwyth softly, leaning near to remove the prince’s breakfast tray.

Dagnarus had spent the night in Valura’s arms, the two of them hidden away in a secret chamber in an interior wing of the castle that housed foreign diplomats, a part of the castle excellently well suited for love trysts, since it was opened only for special functions or celebrations. Dagnarus had not heard the wind, the sleet, the driving rain. Drowned in pleasure, he had heard nothing but the rushing sea of his own blood. The two had separated reluctantly an hour before dawn, she to creep back to the small room in the palace off the Queen’s bedchamber (her husband lived alone in their house in the city; Valura having insisted on being near the Queen), he to return by the hidden passages in which he played as a child to his own bedchamber, to be there to greet the attendant lords upon their arrival in the morning.

“Fine weather to me, Lord Malroy,” said Dagnarus, throwing aside the bedclothes. “I enjoy the rage and clash of the storm. Get rid of them,” he muttered under his breath to Silwyth.

Silwyth shooed the lords, like so many chickens, out of the bedroom. He saw them safely ensconced with their dice in an antechamber, then returned to the prince.

“What is the gossip around the palace, Silwyth?” Dagnarus asked as he prepared for his bath. “Has anyone said anything?”

“With regard to yourself and the Lady Valura, no, Your Highness. Beyond the fact that Your Highness has been in an unusually good temper lately and that Her Ladyship has been reprimanded for being dull and sleepy in the Queen’s presence, nothing untoward has been noticed.”

Dagnarus smiled. “I shall have to go into a rage about something, I suppose, to save my reputation. But, see here, Silwyth, I am fairly even-tempered, cheerful most of the time, not given to brooding or melancholia or savage outbursts. I don’t see any change in myself.”

“Love makes even the ugly attractive, Your Highness, and thus it follows that it would make that which is already attractive beautiful.”

“Love.” Dagnarus mused. “I thought I was immune to that sweet disease. But you are right. I have caught it, and its fever consumes me. I wonder how soon it will wear itself out.”

Silwyth regarded him gravely. “It will not wear out soon with the Lady Valura, Your Highness. Elven women are not fickle and changeable as are human females.

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