Read Online The King Of Hel by Grace Draven - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Grace Draven
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Madam il Veras."
Castil blushed, surprised at his remark. She could hear the restless murmurings of the boyars behind them and bowed with her father before passing through the line and into the crowd. That brief meeting irrevocably changed her, for in the days that he and his delegation resided in Caskadan, Doranis sought her out numerous times. It was the cause of raised eyebrows and speculation among the boyars, and warning glares from the Marcam family.
Their concerns were baseless. Castil posed no threat to Kareena or her family. When she spoke with the king, it was of scholarly things; ancient scrolls, and books they both read. Dowerless and low ranking, she should have been far beneath the notice of a monarch, and most treated Doranis's interest in her as an amusing foible—one odd creature's fascination for another.
The union between the Marcams and House Alisdane commenced without incident, though Kareena looked pale and ill as she held Doranis's hand and spoke her vows before overlord and country. Castil watched the exchange with a mixture of pity and envy—pity for her friend who had been sold into marriage to a man she found repulsive, envy because Castil would have gladly traded places with her.
Kareena refused to look beyond the white mark of the Waste, seeing only a man disfigured by the old magic. She didn't know of the remarkable mind and dry wit that lay behind that severe visage. But Castil did, had watched, enthralled as the days passed in celebration, and Doranis revealed aspects of himself that would have surprised his new wife.
On the day the king and new queen were to return to Helenrisia, Castil made her way to the docks, waiting amidst a crowd of onlookers, as the Helenese royal family and its retainers gathered at the pier. Tears clogged her throat. She and Kareena had said their goodbyes the previous night, crying as they hugged a final time. She could not help but be here for a last glimpse at her friend.
Doranis was unmistakable among his escort. Mounted on a big bay stallion, he was robed and hooded against the bright light of the summer sun and sat tall in the saddle, long-limbed and graceful. Despite the shroud of concealing clothing, she immediately recognized him. As if sensing her eyes upon him, he maneuvered the horse in her direction, the slow turn of his head revealing his search for the watcher.
Castil's eyes widened as the bay suddenly trotted toward her, sending bystanders scattering out of the way. She froze in place, squinting as she stared upward into the shadows of the king's hood. The light eyes, ringed in heavy smears of protective black kohl, narrowed in a faint smile. They were alone on the small section of pier, despite the many eyes that watched them with avid curiosity.
She stared hard at him, memorizing each detail of his finely etched features. He was, in her eyes, the most beautiful creature she'd ever beheld. Distracted by her fascination with him, she almost forgot to bow, and he laughed gently as she blushed and bent at the waist.
"There is no need for ceremony here, scribes woman.” That low, silky voice slid over her skin like scented oil, deep and rich with the promise of decadence. Her thighs clenched in reaction, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide the pinpoints her nipples made against her tunic.
"Fair journey, your Majesty,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
He seemed to still for a moment before bending down close enough that she became ensnared in the glitter of his eyes. “All men wish to be gods, madam, even fey kings. Were I granted such power, this would not be farewell.” He straightened again, his sharp face drawn with an emotion that made her stomach flip. “You would have made a worthy queen, Castil il Veras."
She stared as he wheeled the bay around and trotted back toward the ship. He dismounted and crossed the gangplank, following Kareena as she descended into the hold. Soon after, the retainers followed
Castil blushed, surprised at his remark. She could hear the restless murmurings of the boyars behind them and bowed with her father before passing through the line and into the crowd. That brief meeting irrevocably changed her, for in the days that he and his delegation resided in Caskadan, Doranis sought her out numerous times. It was the cause of raised eyebrows and speculation among the boyars, and warning glares from the Marcam family.
Their concerns were baseless. Castil posed no threat to Kareena or her family. When she spoke with the king, it was of scholarly things; ancient scrolls, and books they both read. Dowerless and low ranking, she should have been far beneath the notice of a monarch, and most treated Doranis's interest in her as an amusing foible—one odd creature's fascination for another.
The union between the Marcams and House Alisdane commenced without incident, though Kareena looked pale and ill as she held Doranis's hand and spoke her vows before overlord and country. Castil watched the exchange with a mixture of pity and envy—pity for her friend who had been sold into marriage to a man she found repulsive, envy because Castil would have gladly traded places with her.
Kareena refused to look beyond the white mark of the Waste, seeing only a man disfigured by the old magic. She didn't know of the remarkable mind and dry wit that lay behind that severe visage. But Castil did, had watched, enthralled as the days passed in celebration, and Doranis revealed aspects of himself that would have surprised his new wife.
On the day the king and new queen were to return to Helenrisia, Castil made her way to the docks, waiting amidst a crowd of onlookers, as the Helenese royal family and its retainers gathered at the pier. Tears clogged her throat. She and Kareena had said their goodbyes the previous night, crying as they hugged a final time. She could not help but be here for a last glimpse at her friend.
Doranis was unmistakable among his escort. Mounted on a big bay stallion, he was robed and hooded against the bright light of the summer sun and sat tall in the saddle, long-limbed and graceful. Despite the shroud of concealing clothing, she immediately recognized him. As if sensing her eyes upon him, he maneuvered the horse in her direction, the slow turn of his head revealing his search for the watcher.
Castil's eyes widened as the bay suddenly trotted toward her, sending bystanders scattering out of the way. She froze in place, squinting as she stared upward into the shadows of the king's hood. The light eyes, ringed in heavy smears of protective black kohl, narrowed in a faint smile. They were alone on the small section of pier, despite the many eyes that watched them with avid curiosity.
She stared hard at him, memorizing each detail of his finely etched features. He was, in her eyes, the most beautiful creature she'd ever beheld. Distracted by her fascination with him, she almost forgot to bow, and he laughed gently as she blushed and bent at the waist.
"There is no need for ceremony here, scribes woman.” That low, silky voice slid over her skin like scented oil, deep and rich with the promise of decadence. Her thighs clenched in reaction, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide the pinpoints her nipples made against her tunic.
"Fair journey, your Majesty,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
He seemed to still for a moment before bending down close enough that she became ensnared in the glitter of his eyes. “All men wish to be gods, madam, even fey kings. Were I granted such power, this would not be farewell.” He straightened again, his sharp face drawn with an emotion that made her stomach flip. “You would have made a worthy queen, Castil il Veras."
She stared as he wheeled the bay around and trotted back toward the ship. He dismounted and crossed the gangplank, following Kareena as she descended into the hold. Soon after, the retainers followed
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