Tyrant's Blood: Book 2 of the Valisar Trilogy by Mcintosh Fiona

Author:Mcintosh, Fiona [Mcintosh, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins e-books
Published: 2009-12-28T16:00:00+00:00

Lily stared at the bed, mortified.

“Hope you like it?” the innkeeper’s wife said, beaming widely.

Strolling around for hours on the green, trying to enjoy the festivities but really just killing time before the inevitable walk back to the inn had been bad enough. What awaited them turned out to be so much worse. They had been faced by an uproarious welcome of festival revellers eager to view any of the newlyweds. Within moments Kirin was dripping, his head doused many times by ale in a curious ritual that was supposed to make his seed strong.

And it seemed that every man this night was permitted to kiss Lily. Strangers felt emboldened to kiss any bride they met. She had done her best to avoid the wet, slobbery smooches from the more drunken fellows, whom she was now convinced traveled into Hurtle just for the opportunity to freely kiss the girls. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d pursed her lips together to shut out a roaming tongue, or turned her head just in time so that a kiss was smeared on her chin instead of her lips.

Kirin had looked equally dumbstruck by the rituals, apologizing every other minute, his hair, his nose, even his rather long and lovely eyelashes dripping with ale. She was staring at those same downcast eyelashes now, her face no doubt thunderous even though she knew none of this was his fault. There was so much to like about Kirin. She could tell he didn’t consider himself brave or strong and yet there was a quietly heroic quality about him that she found irresistible. With him there was no bluster, no muscles, no bravado. Kirin just seemed to possess courage and it was all the more poignant because he seemed such a lonely, somewhat sorrowful individual. And yet his smile and the dimples it produced were deliciously sunny. He was not smiling now, however.

“Well?” the innkeeper’s wife prompted.

“Er, it’s a wonderful surprise,” Kirin answered for them, when he clearly realized that Lily was too shocked to respond.

The woman’s smile widened, Lily noticed, if that were possible.

“We like to make a fuss for our wedding guests, especially on festival night. My girls have done a lovely job, haven’t they?”

Lily stared at the bed strewn with petals and the fresh lavender stalks carpeting the floor. A scented candle was burning alongside the bed and a heart had been formed from dried and jellied fruits left in the middle of the bed’s counterpane on a platter.

The innkeeper’s wife nudged her. “Eat the brambleberries, my girl. On your wedding night, it is said they will make you a son. If you want a daughter, go with the sugared verberries.”

Lily felt dizzy. “Thank you,” was all she could force out.

“All right, you youngsters, I know you’re in a hurry to be alone,” she said. “I’ll—”

“That’s kind of you,” Kirin said, moving to show her the door, glancing anxiously at Lily.

“Not so fast,” the woman chortled. “You strangers, I don’t know!” she said in feigned indignation.

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