The Well-Favoured Man by Elizabeth Willey

Author:Elizabeth Willey [Willey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473224674
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2018-11-26T22:00:00+00:00

13

MARFISA CAME TO ARGYLLE AGAIN, AT my asking, to meet Ulrike. I asked Alexander to come also, but he was busy in Montgard and could not. When I explained why I called him—that we had acquired a new sibling—he was irked.

“Naturally I would like to visit, to meet the girl,” he said. “Damn. Marfisa—”

“She said she would be here in a few days,” I said.

“I cannot easily leave now. You should have told me sooner.” He drummed his fingers. “Well-a-day. It is discourtesy to Ulrike, too. Ulrike. What an odd name.”

“I rather like it.”

“It’s a perfectly good name, just a bit odd.”

“When do you think you will be able to attend here, Alex?”

He had not specified what business kept him, nor did I ask. With Alexander, it could be anything from war on three fronts at once to a lady about to succumb to his advances. He would weight them equally. Actually, he would place the lady above the war, because wars can be delegated.

Alexander paused, thinking. “In a month, possibly; realistically, two months.”

“Mm,” I said noncommittally. I recalled that Montgard’s time spun slowly compared to Argylle’s. “As you wish. I’ll convey your respects and regrets.”

“You’ve given her Keys, I assume.”

“Yes. She just has the immediate family for now.”

“Ask her to Summon me herself. She knows that much?”

“Yes. I will tell her. She has not yet drunk of the Spring, though. So it may be a while ere you hear from her.” Repeatedly she had demurred, always leaving me feeling as though I was offering her poison instead of power. Most recently she had said something about not feeling herself ready yet. I could not force her, but it seemed silly to me.

My brother twisted his face in an irritated grimace. “Then give me her Key and I’ll call her myself—why is it that things become complicated whenever you are part of them, Gwydion?”

“Indeed?” I said. I wasn’t the one creating a difficulty here. I detached her Key from my set and held it up. “I’ll send it by a carrier bird.”

“I see it. Horns?” He frowned.

“A crescent moon.”

“Excellent. I’ll know it again. It is rude of me to delay introducing myself, but I have little liberty to rearrange the world here just now. Have you heard from Father?”

“Nothing new,” I prevaricated. “He will be back when it suits him.”

“I suppose. He is taking this too far. Perhaps I shall have a look around for him.”

I didn’t understand. “Too far?”

“Brooding over Freia’s death. It is done. It is unnatural of him to deny it by avoiding us and Argylle and Landuc. He ought to be getting over it by now.”

“Alexander, you’re talking about Mother. Not some girlfriend who dumped him or whatever. Mother is different.”

“There you go too,” Alexander snapped. “Was different. Is dead. Sun and stars, Gwydion. Let it go. The Wheel has turned. You’re old enough to know what death is about, aren’t you?”

“I don’t recall asking for a gratis consultation on my progress in grieving,” I retorted. “Mind your own business.

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