(Tausrat, #3) Daughter of Egypt by Constance O'Banyon

Author:Constance O'Banyon [O'Banyon, Constance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Flickering lanterns cast dim light on the middle of the huge room but left the far corners in darkness. The chamber was cluttered with mementoes: a favorite chair, a desk piled with scrolls, couches that were worn and tattered—a lifetime of living was collected in this room. The marble floors were dull from lack of polishing. The smell of herbs and spices filled the air, but Thalia’s gaze was fastened on the bed half-hidden by filmy white curtains. A scribe sat on a rush mat, his legs folded, his stylus poised and ready to take down any words the king might utter.

Two men bowed to Thalia as Ashtyn led her forward. She assumed they were the physicians who attended the king. One of them pulled the curtain aside and attached it to a hook.

The room was so quiet, Thalia could hear her own breathing. Her only comfort was knowing Ashtyn stood at her side.

“Gracious Majesty,” the lord chamberlain said, “Princess Thalia has arrived.”

Thalia heard movement on the bed and a disgruntled voice issuing orders.

“Lift me up. Plump the pillows. I will not receive my granddaughter like a man going to his tomb!”

Thalia’s first glimpse of the king filled her heart with pity. He was gaunt and pale, his lips parched, his long white hair tangled about his face. Blue eyes, the color of her own, stared back at her.

She stood stiffly while he examined every detail of her face. Then he did something unexpected that wrenched Thalia’s heart: tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his hollow cheeks.

His seeking blue eyes perused her face. “You are the image of my Jiesa. You could be her returning in the flesh. Let everyone within the hearing of my voice know that I proclaim this young woman to be blood of my blood, my granddaughter, and your future queen!”

His words struck Thalia like a lightning bolt. Was it as simple as that? A few words spoken, and her life would change forever? Her eyes locked with the king’s as she stated, “Majesty, you are mistaken.”

“Nay,” his voice cracked, “I am not mistaken. Would you question a sick man who has taken to his bed?”

She shook her head, thinking he had paled a bit more. “I am saddened to find you unwell. Please accept my good wishes for your recovery.”

He waved an agitated hand at the scribe. “Bring the princess a stool. I’ll not have her standing over me.” His bushy white brows arched. “Soon enough she will be raised above me, but not until I leave this world.”

In confusion, Thalia lowered herself onto the stool that had been hastily provided for her, wishing she could loosen the tight straps of the breastplate. She felt no kinship with the sick old man, but she did pity him. “If you are my grandfather, would you tell me of the woman you call my mother?”

King Melik’s jaw clenched. “Your mother was as frivolous as she was beautiful. She put her own needs ahead of those of her people.

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