Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

“I didn’t say you had,” she hissed. “Lady Belinda, what did you say? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

That dismissal he could hardly overlook, so he offered another stiff bow and returned to his station against the wall. He couldn’t tell if he was more angry at being berated or elated at being missed, but he was beginning to think this particular situation was almost unbearably funny. In fact, it was all he could do to keep from bursting into laughter right there in the middle of the dinner, and he thanked the various mysterious gods for choosing to keep Senneth away from tonight’s meal.

But soon enough he became aware of Valri watching him again, her expression unreadable. To Cammon it seemed she was turning a new idea over in her mind and finding it so momentous that she hardly knew whether to be pleased or horrified. What that idea might be he absolutely could not guess.

INthe morning, Milo brought an entire new wardrobe for Cammon, cut and stitched to fit him, and the news that the princess had need of him.

“She is in the rose study,” the steward said. “Do not stray far from the palace today, for you will be wanted in the afternoon, too. A noble suitor will be making his bow to Amalie, and your presence is required.”

Practically a whole day with Amalie. Cammon was so pleased that he managed not to be rude to Milo. He dressed with a little additional care in one of the new uniforms and was forced to admit that quality tailoring might make even him look natty. Certainly the black uniform, with its discreet gold braid and small gold buttons, fitted him perfectly, with no tendency to bunch or bag. It was possible the crisp white shirt would stay tucked in for an entire day. He might actually look presentable for more than fifteen minutes-certainly long enough to stride through the corridors and arrive at Amalie’s study.

She and Valri were seated in the deep chairs set before the window, sipping from teacups. A third chair was pulled up beside theirs; a third cup sat on a table next to the queen. Cammon entered, bowed, and hesitated, but Amalie waved him over.

“Come, sit down! Your feet must be tired after standing for hours watching over our dinners every night.”

He grinned and took a chair, trying to sit straight enough to keep the new jacket from wrinkling. “I don’t mind. The hard part is watching everyone else eat. It’s not so bad when I remember to have my dinner beforehand, but I’m still starving by the end of the night. So then I eat dinner again, and pretty soon I’ll probably grow quite fat.”

“Sooner if you drink this stuff,” Valri said, pouring dark liquid into the remaining cup and handing it over. It smelled sweet and steamy and wonderful.

“What is that?”

“Hot chocolate. Imported from Arberharst.” Valri sipped from her own cup. “It must be what the gods get drunk on.”

Cammon had to agree, it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. But. “Different gods in Arberharst,” he said. “No one ever mentioned the Pale Mother or the Bright Mother or the Dark Watcher while I was there. They worship a redheaded warrior god, and he’s very violent.”

“Did I know you lived in Arberharst?” Amalie asked, holding the cup of hot chocolate suspended before her mouth. The liquid was just a shade or two darker than her eyes. “When were you there?”

“Oh, we lived there for a few years when I was pretty young. Then we moved to Sovenfeld, and back to Arberharst a year or so before I ended up in Gillengaria.”

Amalie glanced at Valri, and they both smiled. “Usually you’re much more forthcoming than that,” the princess said. “Ask you a question, and you’ll answer it for ten minutes.”

He grinned. “Senneth reminds me from time to time that I talk too much. And I don’t know that the story of my life is very interesting.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong there,” Valri said. “It seems as if it’s been very adventurous.”

“I wouldn’t really call Arberharst an adventure.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Amalie said.

“I don’t mind. Stop me if you get bored.” So he launched into some of the tales about Arberharst and Sovenfeld that, in the past year, he had found entertained almost anybody-Senneth’s brother Kiernan, the Riders, Jerril. He and his parents had been on the move for most of his life, never spending more than a month in any one place, so he had seen plenty of foreign sites-Sovenfeld’s muddy villages and sophisticated cities, Arberharst’s bright red fields of honey spice.

“It truly does sound fascinating,” Amalie said at last. “What took your parents to Arberharst?”

He smiled. “Some kind of business deal. My father was always looking for the next scheme, the next opportunity. He was always going to make a fortune. It never happened.”

“Did he want you to go into business with him?”

“My father-” He hesitated. How much to say? “My father wasn’t all that interested in me. I don’t think he was that interested in my mother, either. I think he would have left her behind except that she was determined to stay with him and bring me along. Maybe it was because she thought he should take care of us, and she wanted to force him to be responsible for the people he’d accumulated-or maybe she just loved him and wanted to be with him. I was never sure.”

There was a shadow across Amalie’s eyes. “Was your mother interested in you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Well, most of her energy went into trying to hold together a household, trying to feed us on what little money came in, and trying to keep track of my father. I was on my own a lot.”

“In strange countries, with no friends and no family, moving every week or two,” Valri observed. “You must have been very solitary.”

“Oh, I got by. I made friends. There was always an innkeeper’s wife who was kind to me, or a blacksmith who hired me to run errands, or a boy my age who would help me get into trouble.”

“So where are they now?” Amalie said. “Your parents?”

“My father died in Arberharst, my mother on the journey back.”

He said it casually, but he saw Amalie flinch, and even Valri’s cold face looked sympathetic. “So, then you were completely alone in the world,” the princess said.

“Well,” he answered, “they hadn’t been much company to begin with.”

He said it to make them smile, but neither of them did. “So, here you were, an orphan, sailing back to Gillengaria all by yourself,” Amalie said. “How dreadful.”

“A nineteen-year-old orphan,” he corrected. “Not so young and helpless as all that.”

“Did you look for your family once you arrived? Aunts and uncles?”

He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure my father’s family cast him off. My mother’s parents died when I was small, and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters. There must be aunts or cousins somewhere, but I’ve never sought them out.”

“I’m finding this to be one of the most depressing stories I’ve heard in quite some time,” Valri remarked.

An excellent opening for a change of subject. “Do you have a big family, then?” he asked the queen. “Are you close to them?”

“Yes to both questions, though I have not been to see them in a few years,” Valri answered. “But they are most protective of me. One of the reasons I wanted to leave-to try what my life would be like without their close attention.”

“Wait-I want to finish with Cammon’s story before we get to yours,” Amalie said.

Valri looked amused. “Well, that’s enough of my story for now, anyway.”

“And enough of mine, don’t you think?” Cammon asked.