Read Online The Call of the Crown (Book 1) by T.J. Garrett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: T.J. Garrett
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say it, as though you were talking to Meric or one of your other friends.” Daric squeezed Gialyn’s shoulder; his expression took a more serious tone. “Whatever you do, do not react to her moods. I promise you, whatever is causing it; chances are it will have nothing whatsoever to do with you. Learn how to bite your lip, you know what I mean.” He patted Gialyn on his shoulder and straightened up.
“Oh.” Gialyn was surprised he was actually listening to his father and even more surprised he seemed to be making sense. “I … I will try that, thank you.” He really didn’t want to agree. Gods, he’ll be talking to me about where babies come from next! Stop agreeing with him.
Daric pulled up at his straps and put a little bounce in his step. He seemed pleased that he’d had his little talk . Perhaps he thought that was one less problem to worry about—at least for now.
“By the gods, I remember when I met your mother. I’m surprised she didn’t run at the sight of me.” Daric laughed so hard his backpack shook. He grinned while slowly shaking his head, amused, it seemed, at his own recollections.
Gialyn wondered whether he should ask the obvious question. He balanced his curiosity with the anguish of holding a personal conversation with his father. After some apprehensive pondering, his curiosity finally got the better of him. “Why, what did you do that was so bad?”
“What didn’t I do? I was such a foolish, hard-headed young man back in those days; I thought I knew everything.” Daric shook his head again and smiled as he stared along the path. “Let me put it simply, without too many details.” He gave a wry, sideways glance at Gialyn, apparently mindful that his son was fishing for controversy—and he was right, of course. “You should approach love with three simple rules: never lie, never pretend, and most importantly, never presume!”
Gialyn was puzzled. “What do you mean by … ‘presume?’”
His father suddenly grew a little flushed and fidgety, perhaps realizing he had opened the door to an awkward subject and had stuck his big foot right in the middle of it. Serves him right. “Well … uh… without being too blunt,” Daric said. “‘Never presume’ means be respectful and wait or even ask permission.”
“Oh!” Gialyn was horrified . He wasn’t expecting that at all. Oh no… Gods, get me out of this conversation, quickly! He knew exactly what his father meant by “ask permission.” He answered quickly with a simple “I see” and quickly looked over at the river… to the sky… to his feet… to the bush drooping sidelong against the edge of the path—anywhere but at his father.
Daric looked as if he was just about to continue when his attention was drawn to something up ahead. He pointed along the track towards the fork in the road. “Is that … Grady up there?” he asked, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a clearer view.
Gialyn creased his eyes and then—silently praising the gods for the timely change of subject—he laughed. “Yes, I think it is … Come to say good-bye. That is good of him.”
Daric stood, one fist on his hip, the other scratching his chin. He blinked and looked again. “He has not come to say good-bye . There is a backpack on the ground next to him.” He shook his head, mouth half open in bewilderment. “Where is he going?”
The crease of a smile crossed Gialyn’s lips . He knew the reason Grady had his pack with him—at least he hoped he did. Please, gods, let him be coming! Please, gods, let him be coming! The thought kept repeating all the way to the fork in the road. If nothing else, Grady’s presence would keep his father off his back.
* * *
The cart that was ahead of them was now parked by the side of the track. The driver stood by the wheel on the far side, mallet in one hand, scratching his head with the other. He looked puzzled and in a dim mood.
Daric gave him a nod. “Is everything all
“Oh.” Gialyn was surprised he was actually listening to his father and even more surprised he seemed to be making sense. “I … I will try that, thank you.” He really didn’t want to agree. Gods, he’ll be talking to me about where babies come from next! Stop agreeing with him.
Daric pulled up at his straps and put a little bounce in his step. He seemed pleased that he’d had his little talk . Perhaps he thought that was one less problem to worry about—at least for now.
“By the gods, I remember when I met your mother. I’m surprised she didn’t run at the sight of me.” Daric laughed so hard his backpack shook. He grinned while slowly shaking his head, amused, it seemed, at his own recollections.
Gialyn wondered whether he should ask the obvious question. He balanced his curiosity with the anguish of holding a personal conversation with his father. After some apprehensive pondering, his curiosity finally got the better of him. “Why, what did you do that was so bad?”
“What didn’t I do? I was such a foolish, hard-headed young man back in those days; I thought I knew everything.” Daric shook his head again and smiled as he stared along the path. “Let me put it simply, without too many details.” He gave a wry, sideways glance at Gialyn, apparently mindful that his son was fishing for controversy—and he was right, of course. “You should approach love with three simple rules: never lie, never pretend, and most importantly, never presume!”
Gialyn was puzzled. “What do you mean by … ‘presume?’”
His father suddenly grew a little flushed and fidgety, perhaps realizing he had opened the door to an awkward subject and had stuck his big foot right in the middle of it. Serves him right. “Well … uh… without being too blunt,” Daric said. “‘Never presume’ means be respectful and wait or even ask permission.”
“Oh!” Gialyn was horrified . He wasn’t expecting that at all. Oh no… Gods, get me out of this conversation, quickly! He knew exactly what his father meant by “ask permission.” He answered quickly with a simple “I see” and quickly looked over at the river… to the sky… to his feet… to the bush drooping sidelong against the edge of the path—anywhere but at his father.
Daric looked as if he was just about to continue when his attention was drawn to something up ahead. He pointed along the track towards the fork in the road. “Is that … Grady up there?” he asked, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a clearer view.
Gialyn creased his eyes and then—silently praising the gods for the timely change of subject—he laughed. “Yes, I think it is … Come to say good-bye. That is good of him.”
Daric stood, one fist on his hip, the other scratching his chin. He blinked and looked again. “He has not come to say good-bye . There is a backpack on the ground next to him.” He shook his head, mouth half open in bewilderment. “Where is he going?”
The crease of a smile crossed Gialyn’s lips . He knew the reason Grady had his pack with him—at least he hoped he did. Please, gods, let him be coming! Please, gods, let him be coming! The thought kept repeating all the way to the fork in the road. If nothing else, Grady’s presence would keep his father off his back.
* * *
The cart that was ahead of them was now parked by the side of the track. The driver stood by the wheel on the far side, mallet in one hand, scratching his head with the other. He looked puzzled and in a dim mood.
Daric gave him a nod. “Is everything all
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