Read Online By Divine Right by Patrick W. Carr - Free Book Online
Authors: Patrick W. Carr
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deferential, after all.”
Gael shook her head. “His deference rests upon him like an ill-fitting cloak. I think his reasons are different.” She completed her circle until she stood next to her sister once more. “Look up, please—first at me and then at my sister,” Gael ordered.
I held her gaze as long as I dared, breaking it before looking at her sister.
Kera drew a breath. “Very well, sister, what do you see?”
Gael pulled air into her lungs, and I admired the stained glass for the second time that evening. “Common, but the dagger in his boot says something. The servant’s outfit indicates that he’s very new to the hall, perhaps added only this evening. The fact that it fits him poorly might be evidence that he’s a last-minute addition.”
Kera nodded with impatience. “Yes, all of that is obvious.”
Gael’s head tilted in thought. “There are fresh cuts and bruises on his hands. He’s been brawling, but he doesn’t carry himself in the manner of a soldier, not quite. Yet his right hand has the calluses you’d expect from one.”
Gael’s sister looked skyward. “You’re stalling.”
Gael smiled. “How do I know what you’ve noted or missed unless I go through it all?”
Kera’s laugh sounded clean and joyful. “When was the last time I missed anything so obvious?” Her eyes narrowed as she brought her gaze to mine. “If you desire my coin, sister, you’ll have to unravel the mystery above the shoulders.”
Gael’s answering smile held equal parts challenge and determination within it. “The face is more weathered than most—he’s outdoors quite a bit.”
“He’s young,” Kera said in a prodding tone.
Gael nodded. “The mouth is unlined, but the creases between his brows are deep enough to be a permanent fixture. He’s either a man of thoughts . . .”
“ . . . or a man gripped by some concern,” Kera finished.
I shouldn’t have met her gaze, but their inspection grated, and the willingness to adopt the servant’s pose deserted me.
“There’s steel in this one,” Gael said. “He hasn’t been a servant long.” Her gaze bored into mine. “Secrets.”
Kera’s breath ghosted from her in a small laugh. “Every man has secrets. It’s one of the few things that make taming them worthwhile.”
Gael’s face went slack as her stare continued. Sudden realization of my danger exploded in my mind. Nearly all nobles were gifted in some way. I had no idea how Lady Gael’s giftedness and innate talent might have intersected. What could they divine by mere inspection? I didn’t know and, more importantly, I couldn’t afford to find out.
A stir behind me gave me all the excuse I needed to interrupt their game. Striding into the hall as if he owned it, came a man of more than average height with the strong features and bearing sculptors liked to use when they crafted statues of those who walked a little closer to Aer than most men. It took me a moment to realize he walked a pace to the left and one more ahead of another man, alike in features, but half-a-hand shorter and without such rigid arrogance. Several other men and women, bearing the same stamp upon their countenance came with them.
Kera pursed her lips. “Now there is a man well-featured enough to make the angels weep.”
“Orlan is striking and beautiful,” Gael agreed softly.
My gaze snapped to the two men surrounded now by a cadre of nobles as if a standing version of a king’s court had been called, sycophants drinking in his every word, as if they had been given by divine inspiration. Inside my heart quailed. The Orlan family boastedno small number of kin. How could I possibly determine which of them plotted against my king?
At the risk of prolonging their game, I bowed to Ladies Gael and Kera. “I see several men within the circle, my lady, which do you mean?”
Gael and Kera both laughed as if I’d asked after the color of the sky, but behind their laughter I saw them add my question
Gael shook her head. “His deference rests upon him like an ill-fitting cloak. I think his reasons are different.” She completed her circle until she stood next to her sister once more. “Look up, please—first at me and then at my sister,” Gael ordered.
I held her gaze as long as I dared, breaking it before looking at her sister.
Kera drew a breath. “Very well, sister, what do you see?”
Gael pulled air into her lungs, and I admired the stained glass for the second time that evening. “Common, but the dagger in his boot says something. The servant’s outfit indicates that he’s very new to the hall, perhaps added only this evening. The fact that it fits him poorly might be evidence that he’s a last-minute addition.”
Kera nodded with impatience. “Yes, all of that is obvious.”
Gael’s head tilted in thought. “There are fresh cuts and bruises on his hands. He’s been brawling, but he doesn’t carry himself in the manner of a soldier, not quite. Yet his right hand has the calluses you’d expect from one.”
Gael’s sister looked skyward. “You’re stalling.”
Gael smiled. “How do I know what you’ve noted or missed unless I go through it all?”
Kera’s laugh sounded clean and joyful. “When was the last time I missed anything so obvious?” Her eyes narrowed as she brought her gaze to mine. “If you desire my coin, sister, you’ll have to unravel the mystery above the shoulders.”
Gael’s answering smile held equal parts challenge and determination within it. “The face is more weathered than most—he’s outdoors quite a bit.”
“He’s young,” Kera said in a prodding tone.
Gael nodded. “The mouth is unlined, but the creases between his brows are deep enough to be a permanent fixture. He’s either a man of thoughts . . .”
“ . . . or a man gripped by some concern,” Kera finished.
I shouldn’t have met her gaze, but their inspection grated, and the willingness to adopt the servant’s pose deserted me.
“There’s steel in this one,” Gael said. “He hasn’t been a servant long.” Her gaze bored into mine. “Secrets.”
Kera’s breath ghosted from her in a small laugh. “Every man has secrets. It’s one of the few things that make taming them worthwhile.”
Gael’s face went slack as her stare continued. Sudden realization of my danger exploded in my mind. Nearly all nobles were gifted in some way. I had no idea how Lady Gael’s giftedness and innate talent might have intersected. What could they divine by mere inspection? I didn’t know and, more importantly, I couldn’t afford to find out.
A stir behind me gave me all the excuse I needed to interrupt their game. Striding into the hall as if he owned it, came a man of more than average height with the strong features and bearing sculptors liked to use when they crafted statues of those who walked a little closer to Aer than most men. It took me a moment to realize he walked a pace to the left and one more ahead of another man, alike in features, but half-a-hand shorter and without such rigid arrogance. Several other men and women, bearing the same stamp upon their countenance came with them.
Kera pursed her lips. “Now there is a man well-featured enough to make the angels weep.”
“Orlan is striking and beautiful,” Gael agreed softly.
My gaze snapped to the two men surrounded now by a cadre of nobles as if a standing version of a king’s court had been called, sycophants drinking in his every word, as if they had been given by divine inspiration. Inside my heart quailed. The Orlan family boastedno small number of kin. How could I possibly determine which of them plotted against my king?
At the risk of prolonging their game, I bowed to Ladies Gael and Kera. “I see several men within the circle, my lady, which do you mean?”
Gael and Kera both laughed as if I’d asked after the color of the sky, but behind their laughter I saw them add my question
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