throne!”
Senneth shook her head. “I can think of nothing, at this moment, more likely to cause discord in the realm. Already Halchon and Rayson believe Brassenthwaite is too powerful, and such a marriage would probably convince a few other Houses to join their cause. No, we need to wed her someplace where the alliance will do us most good.”
“Coravann, perhaps,” Valri said. “Heffel Coravann has a son who is about Amalie’s age.”
Senneth nodded. “I have been thinking a good deal about Ryne Coravann. Heffel wants to remain neutral in this war—if there is a war—but a wedding with royalty would most definitely swing him to our side. And Coravann is a strategic ally. So close to the Lirrenlands, on good terms with both Gisseltess and Nocklyn, and yet not such a powerful House that the marlords would rise up in protest.”
“But marlord Heffel is a friend to Coralinda Gisseltess,” Cammon protested. It was his first contribution to the conversation in at least twenty minutes. “Don’t you remember? He invited her to his ball last summer. He worships the Pale Mother. Aren’t you afraid that his son might be a fanatic?”
That caused them all to fall quiet for a moment and think. Coralinda Gisseltess led the order known as the Daughters of the Pale Mother, and she and all her followers feared and hated mystics. Like her brother, Halchon, she wanted to remake Gillengaria—but her main goal was to see mystics burned at the stake and every scrap of magic eradicated from the land.
“It’s true that Heffel reveres the Pale Mother,” Senneth said slowly. “But I would not hold that against him—you can be a good man and still love the moon goddess. What concerns me more is that he does not seem to realize how dangerous Coralinda is. Yet, Heffel is not a fool. I do not believe he could be tricked into battle by either Coralinda or her brother. I do not believe he will ever take up arms against the king.”
“I danced with Ryne a few times when we were at Coravann Keep,” Amalie said.
“What did you think of him?” Valri asked.
Amalie shrugged. “Well, he was drunk both times, and he knew that made his sister angry, and that made him laugh,” she said. “I thought he was charming but not very—very—” She shrugged.
“Not very princely,” Valri said in a severe voice.
“He’s only seventeen or eighteen, I believe,” Senneth said.
Valri gestured. “Cammon’s only twenty, isn’t he, and he’s far more responsible than Ryne! Or so it appears.”
“Well, then, let us look at our other options,” Senneth said.
Cammon couldn’t help himself; he rolled his eyes. He had heard Senneth and Kirra keep up such talk for hours, discussing bloodlines and alliances with an obsessive interest. Amalie caught his expression and grinned.
“It’s very boring, isn’t it?” she said, leaning over to whisper in his ear. The others could still hear her, of course, and Valri flicked her a look of some annoyance, but the older women continued their discussion anyway. “This very topic forms the chief subject of conversation whenever I’m in the room, and I can’t bear it.”
“I would think it would interest you, if only a little,” he replied. “After all, they’re talking of the man you’re going to marry . I’d be interested if people were trying to figure out who should be my wife.”
Amalie glanced at Valri, glanced at Senneth, and stood up, pulling Cammon to his feet. “Let’s go talk of something else,” she said.
Valri briefly broke off her sentence. “Don’t leave the room,” she said.
“We won’t. Over here, Cammon, let me show you some of my treasures.”
They crossed the room to where a tall, cream-colored bookshelf held an array of boxes and bowls. Amalie pulled a box from a middle shelf. It was made of some dark and highly polished wood, and it opened when a hidden door slid out. Inside was a collection of smooth stones in a variety of muted colors, mostly blues
Senneth shook her head. “I can think of nothing, at this moment, more likely to cause discord in the realm. Already Halchon and Rayson believe Brassenthwaite is too powerful, and such a marriage would probably convince a few other Houses to join their cause. No, we need to wed her someplace where the alliance will do us most good.”
“Coravann, perhaps,” Valri said. “Heffel Coravann has a son who is about Amalie’s age.”
Senneth nodded. “I have been thinking a good deal about Ryne Coravann. Heffel wants to remain neutral in this war—if there is a war—but a wedding with royalty would most definitely swing him to our side. And Coravann is a strategic ally. So close to the Lirrenlands, on good terms with both Gisseltess and Nocklyn, and yet not such a powerful House that the marlords would rise up in protest.”
“But marlord Heffel is a friend to Coralinda Gisseltess,” Cammon protested. It was his first contribution to the conversation in at least twenty minutes. “Don’t you remember? He invited her to his ball last summer. He worships the Pale Mother. Aren’t you afraid that his son might be a fanatic?”
That caused them all to fall quiet for a moment and think. Coralinda Gisseltess led the order known as the Daughters of the Pale Mother, and she and all her followers feared and hated mystics. Like her brother, Halchon, she wanted to remake Gillengaria—but her main goal was to see mystics burned at the stake and every scrap of magic eradicated from the land.
“It’s true that Heffel reveres the Pale Mother,” Senneth said slowly. “But I would not hold that against him—you can be a good man and still love the moon goddess. What concerns me more is that he does not seem to realize how dangerous Coralinda is. Yet, Heffel is not a fool. I do not believe he could be tricked into battle by either Coralinda or her brother. I do not believe he will ever take up arms against the king.”
“I danced with Ryne a few times when we were at Coravann Keep,” Amalie said.
“What did you think of him?” Valri asked.
Amalie shrugged. “Well, he was drunk both times, and he knew that made his sister angry, and that made him laugh,” she said. “I thought he was charming but not very—very—” She shrugged.
“Not very princely,” Valri said in a severe voice.
“He’s only seventeen or eighteen, I believe,” Senneth said.
Valri gestured. “Cammon’s only twenty, isn’t he, and he’s far more responsible than Ryne! Or so it appears.”
“Well, then, let us look at our other options,” Senneth said.
Cammon couldn’t help himself; he rolled his eyes. He had heard Senneth and Kirra keep up such talk for hours, discussing bloodlines and alliances with an obsessive interest. Amalie caught his expression and grinned.
“It’s very boring, isn’t it?” she said, leaning over to whisper in his ear. The others could still hear her, of course, and Valri flicked her a look of some annoyance, but the older women continued their discussion anyway. “This very topic forms the chief subject of conversation whenever I’m in the room, and I can’t bear it.”
“I would think it would interest you, if only a little,” he replied. “After all, they’re talking of the man you’re going to marry . I’d be interested if people were trying to figure out who should be my wife.”
Amalie glanced at Valri, glanced at Senneth, and stood up, pulling Cammon to his feet. “Let’s go talk of something else,” she said.
Valri briefly broke off her sentence. “Don’t leave the room,” she said.
“We won’t. Over here, Cammon, let me show you some of my treasures.”
They crossed the room to where a tall, cream-colored bookshelf held an array of boxes and bowls. Amalie pulled a box from a middle shelf. It was made of some dark and highly polished wood, and it opened when a hidden door slid out. Inside was a collection of smooth stones in a variety of muted colors, mostly blues
Similar Books
