Read Online SECRETS OF THE WIND by Charlotte Boyett-Compo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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with women, this episode felt as though he had fallen through a black hole and into a strange new universe.
He walked down the hall shaking his head.
Chapter Six
Chas was fully dressed when the light knock came at her door later that evening. It was time for supper and she was famished. Delightful smells had been wafting up to her from below stairs for the last few hours and her stomach was rumbling, her mouth watering at the succulent scents weaving their way through her nostrils.
It was the chief guard who stood at her door, preparing to knock again, when she opened it. The man’s face was carefully blank but she fancied she saw a gleam in the pale gray depths.
“Prince Ruan sends his regards, milady, and bids you sup with him,” the man said.
“Do I need my shawl?” she asked.
“Begging your leave, milady, but I don’t believe you will. The dining room is quite warm, at the prince’s request.”
Chas carried on a light conversation with the chief guard whose name she found out was Patrick Murphy. He had been Prince Ruan’s primary protector since the heir-apparent turned eight years of age.
“A handful, was he?” she inquired of the man who appeared to be at least a full score older than his charge.
“Still runs me a merry race, he does,” Patrick admitted. “It was a relief when the queen decided to go before the Tribunal and hire you.”
Chas stopped. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the chief guard. “You know what I am?”
Patrick nodded. “I have the queen’s ear, I do, since it has been my duty to protect Prince Ruan. She went over your qualifications with me and asked if I thought you’d suit.” He grinned. “In more ways than just job-related, I’d say.”
Squinting, Chas asked him what that meant.
“The queen thinks you’d make a grand daughter-in-law. The mystic thinks so too, and Queen Annalyn puts great store in the throwing of the runes.”
“And if I am not interested in being Prince Ruan’s consort?” she asked, her jaw tight.
The chief guard actually laughed before coughing away his merriment. “That’s your decision, milady,” he finally said, and his tone left no doubt in Chas’ mind that he thought she was pulling his leg. He opened the door to the dining room for her.
Mouthwatering smells enveloped Chas like a lover’s embrace as she walked into the room. Prince Ruan was standing at the head of a long table sagging beneath dish after dish, the aromas of which made Chas giddy with hunger.
“My mother says these are all your favorites. How she finds out such things is beyond me but…” Ruan said, sweeping a hand over the steaming bowls. He stepped around to the right side of the table and pulled out a chair.
She went to him and took the seat he offered. As he pushed her chair up the table, she felt his fingers grazing the backs of her shoulders, and once more, that electric current passed through her body. She turned her head to watch him take his own seat.
“I dismissed the servants so we will have to serve ourselves,” he said. “I hope the wine is to your taste.”
Quietly—with no discussion of what had transpired between them earlier—they passed one another the bowls and platters of food. The conversation was light and pertained only to such mundane topics as the unseasonable coolness of late and the overabundance of crops that had not ripened sufficiently to allow the farmers to make money. When the last forkful of succulent beef had been consumed and dessert passed up by each of them, Ruan stood and held her chair for her.
“I am told the gardens here are quite lovely in the evening. Would you like to take a stroll?” he asked.
“I think I should fetch my shawl,” she said, but he was shaking his head. He went to a side table, and took up a package and brought it back to her. “I took the liberty of procuring this for you.”
Chas had no way of knowing the prince had spent the afternoon searching the markets of Viridian
He walked down the hall shaking his head.
Chapter Six
Chas was fully dressed when the light knock came at her door later that evening. It was time for supper and she was famished. Delightful smells had been wafting up to her from below stairs for the last few hours and her stomach was rumbling, her mouth watering at the succulent scents weaving their way through her nostrils.
It was the chief guard who stood at her door, preparing to knock again, when she opened it. The man’s face was carefully blank but she fancied she saw a gleam in the pale gray depths.
“Prince Ruan sends his regards, milady, and bids you sup with him,” the man said.
“Do I need my shawl?” she asked.
“Begging your leave, milady, but I don’t believe you will. The dining room is quite warm, at the prince’s request.”
Chas carried on a light conversation with the chief guard whose name she found out was Patrick Murphy. He had been Prince Ruan’s primary protector since the heir-apparent turned eight years of age.
“A handful, was he?” she inquired of the man who appeared to be at least a full score older than his charge.
“Still runs me a merry race, he does,” Patrick admitted. “It was a relief when the queen decided to go before the Tribunal and hire you.”
Chas stopped. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the chief guard. “You know what I am?”
Patrick nodded. “I have the queen’s ear, I do, since it has been my duty to protect Prince Ruan. She went over your qualifications with me and asked if I thought you’d suit.” He grinned. “In more ways than just job-related, I’d say.”
Squinting, Chas asked him what that meant.
“The queen thinks you’d make a grand daughter-in-law. The mystic thinks so too, and Queen Annalyn puts great store in the throwing of the runes.”
“And if I am not interested in being Prince Ruan’s consort?” she asked, her jaw tight.
The chief guard actually laughed before coughing away his merriment. “That’s your decision, milady,” he finally said, and his tone left no doubt in Chas’ mind that he thought she was pulling his leg. He opened the door to the dining room for her.
Mouthwatering smells enveloped Chas like a lover’s embrace as she walked into the room. Prince Ruan was standing at the head of a long table sagging beneath dish after dish, the aromas of which made Chas giddy with hunger.
“My mother says these are all your favorites. How she finds out such things is beyond me but…” Ruan said, sweeping a hand over the steaming bowls. He stepped around to the right side of the table and pulled out a chair.
She went to him and took the seat he offered. As he pushed her chair up the table, she felt his fingers grazing the backs of her shoulders, and once more, that electric current passed through her body. She turned her head to watch him take his own seat.
“I dismissed the servants so we will have to serve ourselves,” he said. “I hope the wine is to your taste.”
Quietly—with no discussion of what had transpired between them earlier—they passed one another the bowls and platters of food. The conversation was light and pertained only to such mundane topics as the unseasonable coolness of late and the overabundance of crops that had not ripened sufficiently to allow the farmers to make money. When the last forkful of succulent beef had been consumed and dessert passed up by each of them, Ruan stood and held her chair for her.
“I am told the gardens here are quite lovely in the evening. Would you like to take a stroll?” he asked.
“I think I should fetch my shawl,” she said, but he was shaking his head. He went to a side table, and took up a package and brought it back to her. “I took the liberty of procuring this for you.”
Chas had no way of knowing the prince had spent the afternoon searching the markets of Viridian
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