Read Online The Princess and the Hound by Mette Ivie Harrison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mette Ivie Harrison
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sign of the flames had disappeared in the pink rise of the dawn. Then he lay down on top of his bed, his hands folded across his chest.
He realized for the first time that his father had not done what the king should do. Only what perhaps his father should have done.
George wrapped that thought around himself and fell asleep at last.
His father came to see him sometime later thatmorning. He lifted George into his arms and whispered to him, “I did not mean it to happen like that. I did not mean to hurt you.”
It was a new beginning for both of them, fragile at first but growing stronger. In the years that followed, there were still many times when George spoke to King Davit rather than his father. And many times when the king spoke to the prince. But there were also times when George spoke to his father. And his father told a story now and again about his childhood or his queen.
The one topic they did not touch upon, however, was the animal magic. They spoke around it and past it, as the kingdom seemed to flare up in hunting those with animal magic and punishing them in brutal ways, for it was clear the king would not interfere.
Strangely, as he grew older, George found it far easier for him to forgive his father than to forgive himself for that judgment day. His father had not been the coward then. George had.
C HAPTER E IGHT
A T SEVENTEEN YEARS old, Prince George was still not as tall as his father. In fact he looked more like his dark-eyed, delicate-featured mother than his father in almost every way, yet he was known to lack the love of animals that had defined her. He rode a horse passably well, but not with his mother’s passion. He was known to refuse point-blank the gift of any pet, from the grand offer of a green-collared rolluff brought all the way from the southern province of Jolla to the black tom kitten handed him by a grubby peasant girl at the Autumn Moon Festival.
Those who served the prince had never a bad word for him. They spoke easily of his kindness and generosity. Yet if asked, not one of them would have been able to say what color tunic the prince preferred of all those in his wardrobe or what his favorite feast food was.
Since the king had become ill a few months earlier, George had begun to do much to keep the kingdom running smoothly. He worked well with Sir Stephen, who had returned to his post as the king’s right-hand man now that George no longer needed a tutor.
George could also manage a well-mannered conversation with the lord general, though the man made no attempt to keep back his disdain for a prince who could not hold his seat on a horse as well as a cavalryman. No one who heard the two speaking together would have any reason to believe that the prince returned the lord general’s dislike.
That was the duty of the prince. And the prince always did his duty.
So when King Helm of Sarrey offered a betrothal to his daughter, Beatrice, there was no question what George’s answer would be. For nearly all of his seventeen years, there had been an uneasy truce between the two kingdoms following the great war, and now was the chance to resolve that. Though George would not rule as king in Sarrey, for the king’s nephew had long been groomed as his heir, still it was an alliance that could not be refused.
In but three days Prince George was to spend a whole week in Sarrey, meeting his betrothed and discussing their marriage with King Helm. He woke up that morning with a vague memory of a dream he had not had for many years, of a bear and a man. Why hadit come back now, of all times? His body ached, and he felt entirely unrested. Now was not a good time to worry about animal magic. He had learned to deal with the threat of fevers before they struck, but he did not think he was as happy with his animal magic as his mother had been.
A knock on his door, and George heard a messenger announce that King Davit requested an audience with his son.
“Thank you,” said George. “I
He realized for the first time that his father had not done what the king should do. Only what perhaps his father should have done.
George wrapped that thought around himself and fell asleep at last.
His father came to see him sometime later thatmorning. He lifted George into his arms and whispered to him, “I did not mean it to happen like that. I did not mean to hurt you.”
It was a new beginning for both of them, fragile at first but growing stronger. In the years that followed, there were still many times when George spoke to King Davit rather than his father. And many times when the king spoke to the prince. But there were also times when George spoke to his father. And his father told a story now and again about his childhood or his queen.
The one topic they did not touch upon, however, was the animal magic. They spoke around it and past it, as the kingdom seemed to flare up in hunting those with animal magic and punishing them in brutal ways, for it was clear the king would not interfere.
Strangely, as he grew older, George found it far easier for him to forgive his father than to forgive himself for that judgment day. His father had not been the coward then. George had.
C HAPTER E IGHT
A T SEVENTEEN YEARS old, Prince George was still not as tall as his father. In fact he looked more like his dark-eyed, delicate-featured mother than his father in almost every way, yet he was known to lack the love of animals that had defined her. He rode a horse passably well, but not with his mother’s passion. He was known to refuse point-blank the gift of any pet, from the grand offer of a green-collared rolluff brought all the way from the southern province of Jolla to the black tom kitten handed him by a grubby peasant girl at the Autumn Moon Festival.
Those who served the prince had never a bad word for him. They spoke easily of his kindness and generosity. Yet if asked, not one of them would have been able to say what color tunic the prince preferred of all those in his wardrobe or what his favorite feast food was.
Since the king had become ill a few months earlier, George had begun to do much to keep the kingdom running smoothly. He worked well with Sir Stephen, who had returned to his post as the king’s right-hand man now that George no longer needed a tutor.
George could also manage a well-mannered conversation with the lord general, though the man made no attempt to keep back his disdain for a prince who could not hold his seat on a horse as well as a cavalryman. No one who heard the two speaking together would have any reason to believe that the prince returned the lord general’s dislike.
That was the duty of the prince. And the prince always did his duty.
So when King Helm of Sarrey offered a betrothal to his daughter, Beatrice, there was no question what George’s answer would be. For nearly all of his seventeen years, there had been an uneasy truce between the two kingdoms following the great war, and now was the chance to resolve that. Though George would not rule as king in Sarrey, for the king’s nephew had long been groomed as his heir, still it was an alliance that could not be refused.
In but three days Prince George was to spend a whole week in Sarrey, meeting his betrothed and discussing their marriage with King Helm. He woke up that morning with a vague memory of a dream he had not had for many years, of a bear and a man. Why hadit come back now, of all times? His body ached, and he felt entirely unrested. Now was not a good time to worry about animal magic. He had learned to deal with the threat of fevers before they struck, but he did not think he was as happy with his animal magic as his mother had been.
A knock on his door, and George heard a messenger announce that King Davit requested an audience with his son.
“Thank you,” said George. “I
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