MeiLin Miranda's Blog, page 71
April 21, 2009
Chapter 25 book 3 is live
Two Teas:
It was through the good offices of Embis Winmer that Sedra discovered she would have to receive Lady Callant in her quarters. The secretary was apologetic, but “His Majesty requires that it be done, Your Highness, today and every day,” he said firmly.
“He could at least have had the decency to tell me himself!” fumed Sedra. Both Winmer and Brinnid refrained from pointing out that as Sedra was not speaking to her father, he would have found this difficult.
Sedra saw tea in her rooms as private. Sometimes she took tea with various members of her family, but she always preferred her own table and her own company; it was a time for her to think about her day’s ramblings and readings before dressing for dinner. And now, it was a time to be alone with Brinnid. To have her tea disturbed by the presence of her father’s mistress was near-intolerable, and her temper was stretched thin as a fly’s wing.
It was through the good offices of Embis Winmer that Sedra discovered she would have to receive Lady Callant in her quarters. The secretary was apologetic, but “His Majesty requires that it be done, Your Highness, today and every day,” he said firmly.
“He could at least have had the decency to tell me himself!” fumed Sedra. Both Winmer and Brinnid refrained from pointing out that as Sedra was not speaking to her father, he would have found this difficult.
Sedra saw tea in her rooms as private. Sometimes she took tea with various members of her family, but she always preferred her own table and her own company; it was a time for her to think about her day’s ramblings and readings before dressing for dinner. And now, it was a time to be alone with Brinnid. To have her tea disturbed by the presence of her father’s mistress was near-intolerable, and her temper was stretched thin as a fly’s wing.
April 19, 2009
Chapter 24 book 3 is live
Good Management:
Rose spent less than a spoke at Callant, though it had taken nearly three weeks to get there. “Eet ees a borrring backwater!” she’d complain to anyone who would listen, almost as soon as she’d arrived at Wilk Castle. But to Bear she confessed, “I fear that being away from Varrido so long may lessen his love for me. But he would insist!”
“I like being this far from court,” said Bear as he arranged flowers from the palace hothouse. “I don’t trust the people at court.”
“Nor do I, my dear, which is why I want to get back there as soon as possible.”
Her meeting with the King’s Governor was brief. “I hwant you to get as much out of the prroperty as you can.”
“I always try to manage the lands as best I can, ma’am,” said the Governor, a jowly knight with the prosaic name of Sir Anten Antenson.
“I’m sure you do, Sirr Anten,” said Rose. “But I need more than your best. I hwant every copper turned to silver, every silver turned to gold, and every gold sent to me. Do you understand?”
Sir Anten nodded slowly. “Well, the rye harvest is promising this year, and the tenants tell me--”
“Speaking of the tenants,” interrupted Rose, “hwat do they currently pay in rrent?”
“Why, thirty-five percent of their harvest,” said Sir Anten.
“They weel pay seexty-five and keep thirty-five for themselves,” said Rose firmly.
“Sixty-five!” said Sir Anten. “That will barely leave them with enough to eat!”
“Let them grrow more cabbages in their garden plots, then,” said Rose dismissively.
Rose spent less than a spoke at Callant, though it had taken nearly three weeks to get there. “Eet ees a borrring backwater!” she’d complain to anyone who would listen, almost as soon as she’d arrived at Wilk Castle. But to Bear she confessed, “I fear that being away from Varrido so long may lessen his love for me. But he would insist!”
“I like being this far from court,” said Bear as he arranged flowers from the palace hothouse. “I don’t trust the people at court.”
“Nor do I, my dear, which is why I want to get back there as soon as possible.”
Her meeting with the King’s Governor was brief. “I hwant you to get as much out of the prroperty as you can.”
“I always try to manage the lands as best I can, ma’am,” said the Governor, a jowly knight with the prosaic name of Sir Anten Antenson.
“I’m sure you do, Sirr Anten,” said Rose. “But I need more than your best. I hwant every copper turned to silver, every silver turned to gold, and every gold sent to me. Do you understand?”
Sir Anten nodded slowly. “Well, the rye harvest is promising this year, and the tenants tell me--”
“Speaking of the tenants,” interrupted Rose, “hwat do they currently pay in rrent?”
“Why, thirty-five percent of their harvest,” said Sir Anten.
“They weel pay seexty-five and keep thirty-five for themselves,” said Rose firmly.
“Sixty-five!” said Sir Anten. “That will barely leave them with enough to eat!”
“Let them grrow more cabbages in their garden plots, then,” said Rose dismissively.
April 17, 2009
Chapter 23 book 3 is live
Elevations:
“There, now, we’re all done!” said Ellika. She put Bern’s leg back down on the bed, pillows elevating it above his heart. “Not too much more of this! The Sisters say you’ll be able to try walking in less than a spoke.”
Bern’s forehead shone with perspiration; though his arms and legs were moved for him, he had to put at least a little effort into it himself--and Ellika could tell that it still hurt. “It’s going to be spokes before I can truly walk again, Elly. At least I can use my arms a little,” he said, leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes. “Though I must say,” he added, opening one eye, “It’s much more pleasant now that the Sisters have trained you to help me with these exercises. You’re much prettier.” He smiled at her and closed his eyes again.
Ellika laughed. “I should spend some time with the other petitioners--I’ve been with you most of the day! I’ll leave you to rest now.”
She turned to go, but Bern put out a cautious hand. “You can’t stay just a little longer, Your Very High Highness?”
“I’ve told you not to call me that!” she said, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.
“Don’t give yourself airs. When you’re flat on your back, everyone’s very high.”
Ellika took his hand and patted it. “You won’t be flat on your back soon.”
Bern fell so quiet that Ellika thought he’d gone to sleep; she rose to go, but he murmured, “I’m awake. Just talk to me, Ell. Read me the paper. Tell me about what’s happened to you since Vennaday. Just talk to me.”
More ->
“There, now, we’re all done!” said Ellika. She put Bern’s leg back down on the bed, pillows elevating it above his heart. “Not too much more of this! The Sisters say you’ll be able to try walking in less than a spoke.”
Bern’s forehead shone with perspiration; though his arms and legs were moved for him, he had to put at least a little effort into it himself--and Ellika could tell that it still hurt. “It’s going to be spokes before I can truly walk again, Elly. At least I can use my arms a little,” he said, leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes. “Though I must say,” he added, opening one eye, “It’s much more pleasant now that the Sisters have trained you to help me with these exercises. You’re much prettier.” He smiled at her and closed his eyes again.
Ellika laughed. “I should spend some time with the other petitioners--I’ve been with you most of the day! I’ll leave you to rest now.”
She turned to go, but Bern put out a cautious hand. “You can’t stay just a little longer, Your Very High Highness?”
“I’ve told you not to call me that!” she said, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.
“Don’t give yourself airs. When you’re flat on your back, everyone’s very high.”
Ellika took his hand and patted it. “You won’t be flat on your back soon.”
Bern fell so quiet that Ellika thought he’d gone to sleep; she rose to go, but he murmured, “I’m awake. Just talk to me, Ell. Read me the paper. Tell me about what’s happened to you since Vennaday. Just talk to me.”
More ->
April 10, 2009
Chapter 22 book 3 is live
Demands:
“I’ve been curious about that portrait in your study, Papa.”
“What portrait?” frowned his father.
“Well--not portrait, exactly. The Porfino. Of Neya.”
“Oh?” said Harsin in surprise. “What about it?”
“I was wondering perhaps if I could...borrow it for a little while, hang it in my study? Not permanently,” he hastened. “I know you like it. Just for a bit.”
“I should think there were enough naked women pretending to be Neya in your life already,” his father said sourly.
About as many as in your life, thought Temmin. But aloud, he said, “As it happens, Teacher’s been telling me the story behind that painting. Rose Herrada and all that. I just thought it’d be interesting to have the painting of her in my study while we’re, ehm, studying it.”
“You’re learning about Rose Herrada? Whatever for?”
“Teacher seems to think that if I learn her story I mightn’t get into as much trouble as my predecessor--some of my predecessors.” As soon as the slip was out of his mouth, Temmin cringed inside. If he were a small boy, he’d have hid under the table. But he was a man, and he faced his father’s darkening face with as much manly fortitude as he could muster.
“Trouble,” said his father crisply. “And what would you know about your predecessors and their troubles?”
“I know they had them,” said Temmin. “And I’m hoping I can avoid them.”
“So you’re passing judgment on your grandsires, are you? And me, too, I’d wager. You know nothing of ruling,” snapped Harsin. “You can’t even grow a proper beard yet, and you spend most of your week indolently lying around getting petted at the Lovers’ Temple.”
“I’ve been curious about that portrait in your study, Papa.”
“What portrait?” frowned his father.
“Well--not portrait, exactly. The Porfino. Of Neya.”
“Oh?” said Harsin in surprise. “What about it?”
“I was wondering perhaps if I could...borrow it for a little while, hang it in my study? Not permanently,” he hastened. “I know you like it. Just for a bit.”
“I should think there were enough naked women pretending to be Neya in your life already,” his father said sourly.
About as many as in your life, thought Temmin. But aloud, he said, “As it happens, Teacher’s been telling me the story behind that painting. Rose Herrada and all that. I just thought it’d be interesting to have the painting of her in my study while we’re, ehm, studying it.”
“You’re learning about Rose Herrada? Whatever for?”
“Teacher seems to think that if I learn her story I mightn’t get into as much trouble as my predecessor--some of my predecessors.” As soon as the slip was out of his mouth, Temmin cringed inside. If he were a small boy, he’d have hid under the table. But he was a man, and he faced his father’s darkening face with as much manly fortitude as he could muster.
“Trouble,” said his father crisply. “And what would you know about your predecessors and their troubles?”
“I know they had them,” said Temmin. “And I’m hoping I can avoid them.”
“So you’re passing judgment on your grandsires, are you? And me, too, I’d wager. You know nothing of ruling,” snapped Harsin. “You can’t even grow a proper beard yet, and you spend most of your week indolently lying around getting petted at the Lovers’ Temple.”
April 3, 2009
New reader points story is up
The Consolation of Dreams:
But that was the bad part of Ellika's day--that, and Issak laughing at her. Then again, Issak had kissed her today. Senik had almost kissed her. Despite all her flirting and dancing, she’d never been that close to a man before in her life. Senik had put a flutter in her stomach that still hadn’t quite subsided, and Issak had made her toes curl. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, or rather, how he’d made her feel. Issak himself--well. Beautiful, to be sure, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. A wonderful dancer, and charming in conversation. But apart from desire, she felt nothing for him.
Then again, desire was quite a strong emotion, almost as far from nothing as possible, and that one kiss had awakened hers. Ellika closed her eyes and remembered the way his hands slid gently around her waist and firmly pulled her close, the way he’d kissed the tears from her eyes--but those didn’t count as real kisses, she thought. What had he said? “Ellika, you are so beautiful, I must take this one kiss from you but then I must send you home.” She’d nearly stopped breathing until his soft lips touched hers. She wasn’t exactly sure how he’d done it, but he taught her what a real kiss was, with every move of his lips and tongue. When had she opened her mouth to him? That was improper, surely, but what counted as proper with an Embodiment, let alone a Lover?
But that was the bad part of Ellika's day--that, and Issak laughing at her. Then again, Issak had kissed her today. Senik had almost kissed her. Despite all her flirting and dancing, she’d never been that close to a man before in her life. Senik had put a flutter in her stomach that still hadn’t quite subsided, and Issak had made her toes curl. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, or rather, how he’d made her feel. Issak himself--well. Beautiful, to be sure, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. A wonderful dancer, and charming in conversation. But apart from desire, she felt nothing for him.
Then again, desire was quite a strong emotion, almost as far from nothing as possible, and that one kiss had awakened hers. Ellika closed her eyes and remembered the way his hands slid gently around her waist and firmly pulled her close, the way he’d kissed the tears from her eyes--but those didn’t count as real kisses, she thought. What had he said? “Ellika, you are so beautiful, I must take this one kiss from you but then I must send you home.” She’d nearly stopped breathing until his soft lips touched hers. She wasn’t exactly sure how he’d done it, but he taught her what a real kiss was, with every move of his lips and tongue. When had she opened her mouth to him? That was improper, surely, but what counted as proper with an Embodiment, let alone a Lover?
April 2, 2009
Chapter 21 book 3 is live
The Wielding of Power:
The murmuring voices did not wish to be interrupted indeed, as they belonged to Miss Aneen and Mister Jenks. They sat companionably by her hearth, she in her wing chair, he on the floor leaning against her thigh. Her early fire had died to a few coals; the dawn had been chill, but the morning was turning into a warm spring day.
“A fine time to open your door to me, ma’am, in the middle of the day,” he said, relaxing against her.
“A fine time to knock, thou saucy thing,” she replied. “Where’s thy master?”
“Closeted with his tutor, as usual on Vennadays. I’m a bit at loose ends. His wardrobe is in impeccable condition even by my standards. I’m due at the training salon after I serve luncheon, but until then, I’ve nothing to do.”
“Nor do I, for a little while at least,” she said, passing her hand affectionately over his neat head. “And sitting here with thee is a fair sight better than fending off that Pennik Palks, the creature. I’ll have to have stronger words with him at this rate.”
“Shall I have a word with him?” said Jenks.
Britt laughed. “I sailed with His Majesty alone for nigh-on ten years, Standfast, and another five before! Think thee on that! I can take care of myself. All I need is my tongue, and if that ain’t enough, I have a fine wooden spoon and a finer right arm.”
The murmuring voices did not wish to be interrupted indeed, as they belonged to Miss Aneen and Mister Jenks. They sat companionably by her hearth, she in her wing chair, he on the floor leaning against her thigh. Her early fire had died to a few coals; the dawn had been chill, but the morning was turning into a warm spring day.
“A fine time to open your door to me, ma’am, in the middle of the day,” he said, relaxing against her.
“A fine time to knock, thou saucy thing,” she replied. “Where’s thy master?”
“Closeted with his tutor, as usual on Vennadays. I’m a bit at loose ends. His wardrobe is in impeccable condition even by my standards. I’m due at the training salon after I serve luncheon, but until then, I’ve nothing to do.”
“Nor do I, for a little while at least,” she said, passing her hand affectionately over his neat head. “And sitting here with thee is a fair sight better than fending off that Pennik Palks, the creature. I’ll have to have stronger words with him at this rate.”
“Shall I have a word with him?” said Jenks.
Britt laughed. “I sailed with His Majesty alone for nigh-on ten years, Standfast, and another five before! Think thee on that! I can take care of myself. All I need is my tongue, and if that ain’t enough, I have a fine wooden spoon and a finer right arm.”
March 31, 2009
Chapter 20 book 3 is live
...and I forgot to post here over the weekend!
Love and Groveling:
Per watched in a near-rage as Rose prepared to leave Middlemont for the Keep.
“Th’art leaving me,” he said flatly. “Thou--art leaving me.”
“Your Highness--darling,” said Rose as she adjusted her jewels in the mirror yet again, “dost think it wise to say ‘no’ to the king when he calls? And besides, who can be sure what he intends?”
“I can!”
“Well, I am not so sure,” Rose lied. “It’s best for me to go and see what it is he wants, no? If only to be certain that the two of you remain on good terms. If I slight him, it is only too possible that he’ll place the blame on thee,” she finished, tapping him on the shoulder with her fan.
Per was forced to admit she had a point. He walked Rose out to her carriage; Bear sat up with the coachman as usual, in his ridiculous, but becoming, fake Inchari splendor. Per gripped her hand tightly. “If he makes thee an offer, Rose, and thou takest it, we are at odds, thou and I. There will be no coming back.” Rose made reassuring noises and kissed him, he handed her up, and she set off for the Keep, untroubled. If a King made her an offer, what could a Prince do to her, after all?
Love and Groveling:
Per watched in a near-rage as Rose prepared to leave Middlemont for the Keep.
“Th’art leaving me,” he said flatly. “Thou--art leaving me.”
“Your Highness--darling,” said Rose as she adjusted her jewels in the mirror yet again, “dost think it wise to say ‘no’ to the king when he calls? And besides, who can be sure what he intends?”
“I can!”
“Well, I am not so sure,” Rose lied. “It’s best for me to go and see what it is he wants, no? If only to be certain that the two of you remain on good terms. If I slight him, it is only too possible that he’ll place the blame on thee,” she finished, tapping him on the shoulder with her fan.
Per was forced to admit she had a point. He walked Rose out to her carriage; Bear sat up with the coachman as usual, in his ridiculous, but becoming, fake Inchari splendor. Per gripped her hand tightly. “If he makes thee an offer, Rose, and thou takest it, we are at odds, thou and I. There will be no coming back.” Rose made reassuring noises and kissed him, he handed her up, and she set off for the Keep, untroubled. If a King made her an offer, what could a Prince do to her, after all?
March 24, 2009
Chapter 19 book 3 is live!
...and I'm sorta back on schedule! yay me!
Biddings:
Twenna Shelstone looked around her new rooms in despair, her trunks still where they’d been left on Nerrday. Living at the Keep was something she’d dreamed about since girlhood; she would look up at its towers, spires and turrets, and fantasize about handsome princes and grand balls. And here she was, she thought, really living at the Keep, but hardly as she’d dreamed. Her drafty rooms were in the farthest corner of the Old Residence wing, looking out not on the pleasant vistas of the pleasure gardens and the Woods beyond, nor even onto the city, but instead onto the poultry yard. No opening the windows with that beneath them, she thought. The floors were creaky, and the chimney smoked more than a bit. The furnishings were solid enough, but just a little on the shabby side, the upholstery faded, the hangings discreetly patched, and they’d still been covered in great dusty shrouds when she’d arrived. She hadn’t ever thought of a castle having an attic, but this was what one must be like.
There was no bathroom in her suite; she had to go down the hall to the old baths instead. Or she would have, if they had been working. It had been so long since anyone had lived in the Old Residence wing that the water had been turned off, and the workmen had not been round yet to open the taps back up. And so poor Twenna was forced to rely on hot water brought up to her rooms for her morning washing, and to use the chamberpot.
But often the water arrived tepid, and rarely was the pot emptied. The staff openly reviled her. Oh, they were all polite to a hair, but her needs and requests were often met with deaf ears and slow feet. No one came to help her with her morning toilet, though that dreadful, haughty little man Winmer had made her leave her maid behind: “We will have someone assigned from the staff to take care of you, My Lady,” he said in that--that superannuated way he had. Well, no, they had not, she fumed to herself as she struggled with her corset laces. Bad enough they were all spying on her, just like the staff at Middlemont, but now she had to suffer the--the exigencies of these people all by herself!
What had she done, after all? Only what everyone had bid her to do. First she’d obeyed her parents and married Shelstone--and there was a relief at least, she thought, having Elbig packed off part and parcel to Callant, wherever that was. Oh, how he’d squawked!--And then she had obeyed Elbig and charmed her way into Harsin’s bed. That at least hadn’t been--been opprobrious. And now she’d done what Harsin had commanded and moved into the Keep with as little noise as possible. And what had it gotten her? A smoky, drafty old room in the oldest part of the castle, despised by everyone, that’s what, she huffed to herself, on top of an unwanted baby. And here she’d done nothing to deserve any of it, especially the baby!
Biddings:
Twenna Shelstone looked around her new rooms in despair, her trunks still where they’d been left on Nerrday. Living at the Keep was something she’d dreamed about since girlhood; she would look up at its towers, spires and turrets, and fantasize about handsome princes and grand balls. And here she was, she thought, really living at the Keep, but hardly as she’d dreamed. Her drafty rooms were in the farthest corner of the Old Residence wing, looking out not on the pleasant vistas of the pleasure gardens and the Woods beyond, nor even onto the city, but instead onto the poultry yard. No opening the windows with that beneath them, she thought. The floors were creaky, and the chimney smoked more than a bit. The furnishings were solid enough, but just a little on the shabby side, the upholstery faded, the hangings discreetly patched, and they’d still been covered in great dusty shrouds when she’d arrived. She hadn’t ever thought of a castle having an attic, but this was what one must be like.
There was no bathroom in her suite; she had to go down the hall to the old baths instead. Or she would have, if they had been working. It had been so long since anyone had lived in the Old Residence wing that the water had been turned off, and the workmen had not been round yet to open the taps back up. And so poor Twenna was forced to rely on hot water brought up to her rooms for her morning washing, and to use the chamberpot.
But often the water arrived tepid, and rarely was the pot emptied. The staff openly reviled her. Oh, they were all polite to a hair, but her needs and requests were often met with deaf ears and slow feet. No one came to help her with her morning toilet, though that dreadful, haughty little man Winmer had made her leave her maid behind: “We will have someone assigned from the staff to take care of you, My Lady,” he said in that--that superannuated way he had. Well, no, they had not, she fumed to herself as she struggled with her corset laces. Bad enough they were all spying on her, just like the staff at Middlemont, but now she had to suffer the--the exigencies of these people all by herself!
What had she done, after all? Only what everyone had bid her to do. First she’d obeyed her parents and married Shelstone--and there was a relief at least, she thought, having Elbig packed off part and parcel to Callant, wherever that was. Oh, how he’d squawked!--And then she had obeyed Elbig and charmed her way into Harsin’s bed. That at least hadn’t been--been opprobrious. And now she’d done what Harsin had commanded and moved into the Keep with as little noise as possible. And what had it gotten her? A smoky, drafty old room in the oldest part of the castle, despised by everyone, that’s what, she huffed to herself, on top of an unwanted baby. And here she’d done nothing to deserve any of it, especially the baby!
March 23, 2009
Chapter 18 book 3 is live
...and has been for a few days! I forgot to post it here.
Arrivals at Court:
“Speaking of your household,” said Harsin peremptorily to Sedra, “Lady Callant will be arriving tomorrow to begin her service as lady-in-waiting.”
“Papa, no one has told me exactly who Lady Callant is. I didn’t even know there was a Lord Callant, let alone his wife--Callant has been a crown holding for the last 200 or more years.”
“Lord Callant is newly created,” answered her father shortly.
Ansella looked up. “And who have you bestowed the holding on, Harsin?”
He gave her a brief, almost furious look, then looked down at his wine glass. “Elbig Shelstone.” He tossed back the contents of the glass and motioned for Affton to refill it.
What little color was in Ansella’s face drained away. “Shelstone? Elbig Shelstone. You created Elbig Shelstone, Lord Callant.” She put her napkin on her plate and rose from the table. “Please excuse me,” she said quietly. “I have lost my appetite.”
“Mama?” said Temmin, rising to his feet, but before he could get round the table, Ansella had already fled the room.
“Sit down,” said Harsin irritably.
“Who’s Elbig Shelstone?” said Temmin in confusion.
“The husband of our father’s mistress,” spat Sedra.
Arrivals at Court:
“Speaking of your household,” said Harsin peremptorily to Sedra, “Lady Callant will be arriving tomorrow to begin her service as lady-in-waiting.”
“Papa, no one has told me exactly who Lady Callant is. I didn’t even know there was a Lord Callant, let alone his wife--Callant has been a crown holding for the last 200 or more years.”
“Lord Callant is newly created,” answered her father shortly.
Ansella looked up. “And who have you bestowed the holding on, Harsin?”
He gave her a brief, almost furious look, then looked down at his wine glass. “Elbig Shelstone.” He tossed back the contents of the glass and motioned for Affton to refill it.
What little color was in Ansella’s face drained away. “Shelstone? Elbig Shelstone. You created Elbig Shelstone, Lord Callant.” She put her napkin on her plate and rose from the table. “Please excuse me,” she said quietly. “I have lost my appetite.”
“Mama?” said Temmin, rising to his feet, but before he could get round the table, Ansella had already fled the room.
“Sit down,” said Harsin irritably.
“Who’s Elbig Shelstone?” said Temmin in confusion.
“The husband of our father’s mistress,” spat Sedra.
March 19, 2009
New Points Story Is Up
A Fine Distillation:
It was late after-hours on the mezzanine, and in former able seaman Stewn’s cozy sitting room the little fire was just warm enough to shake off the last of the late spring chill. The reflected light gave his weathered face a burnished look, and the wuisc in his glass added a relaxation that seemed to unfold the skin around his eyes. “I’m not asking you to tell tales!” he laughed. “I’m just asking you a little about the princesses. You serve neither of them!”
Jenks gave Stewn a mockingly stern scowl over the top of his glass. “I serve this family. To talk about any of them is as bad as talking about the prince, in my estimation.”
“Eh, your loyalty is to be admired, Jenks. Just tell me. Is that Princess Ellika a flirt, or has she set her cap at my king?”
“Princess Ellika?” said Jenks in surprise. “I confess I haven’t seen her in company with King Brinnid.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s she doing?”
It was late after-hours on the mezzanine, and in former able seaman Stewn’s cozy sitting room the little fire was just warm enough to shake off the last of the late spring chill. The reflected light gave his weathered face a burnished look, and the wuisc in his glass added a relaxation that seemed to unfold the skin around his eyes. “I’m not asking you to tell tales!” he laughed. “I’m just asking you a little about the princesses. You serve neither of them!”
Jenks gave Stewn a mockingly stern scowl over the top of his glass. “I serve this family. To talk about any of them is as bad as talking about the prince, in my estimation.”
“Eh, your loyalty is to be admired, Jenks. Just tell me. Is that Princess Ellika a flirt, or has she set her cap at my king?”
“Princess Ellika?” said Jenks in surprise. “I confess I haven’t seen her in company with King Brinnid.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s she doing?”
