Glasswrights' Journeyman Read Free

mourning gown and attend your king and his guest in his apartments.”
    Rani sighed and shoved away all her other arguments. There had been no reason for Hal to embarrass Rani in public. There had been no reason for him to turn his back on her, no reason for him to treat her like a dismissed servant, while he primped and preened for that Pepper Isles lackey, for the Briantan princess.
    Nevertheless, in her heart, Rani knew that Mair was right. Hal was frightened. His kingdom needed to rebuild immediately. He needed to protect his subjects. If Hal could not, there were too many restless border lords who would try. Border lords, or foreign kings from the lands to the east and the south, restless neighbors who would look at Morenia’s troubles as a wide-open door to opportunity.
    Rani could show Hal just how wrongly he had treated her if she helped him complete his negotiations with the Holy Father. She held on to that thought as she accompanied Mair down the stairs. She let the Touched girl help her into her stiff gown of black mourning silk. As Mair combed out Rani’s gleaming hair, arranging it to fall straight and clean like a maiden’s, Rani reminded herself that Morenia deserved her negotiating skill.
    She’d show Hal. She’d show him just how narrow-minded and foolish he’d been to ignore her, when she only had Morenia’s best interest at heart. …
    â€œThank you.” Rani managed to smile at her friend.
    â€œMy pleasure, yer ladyship,” Mair drawled, slipping back into the Touched patois of her youth. “If ye think ye’re prepared t’ take on yer king. …”
    â€œI’ll let you know how the dinner goes.”
    â€œOh, no!” Mair leaped for the door of Rani’s chamber. “I’m coming with you.”
    â€œMair, you said yourself that this is a private dinner, in Hal’s own apartments. He won’t have time to attend to you –”
    â€œAye, the king isn’t likely to waste his time on the likes of me. But who’s to say the king’s men won’t spare a lady a few kind words?” Mair curtseyed deeply, lowering her gaze in a gesture that might have been humble, if not for the carnal glint in her eyes.
    â€œYou’re still after Farsobalinti?”
    â€œâ€˜After him’ makes me sound like a bitch in heat.”
    â€œAttending to his interests, then? Sparing time for a loyal supporter of the king?” Rani grinned. “Is that better?”
    â€œHe’s a good man, Rai. He’s a good man, who cares for his king and his kingdom.”
    â€œAnd he just happens to care for dark-eyed wenches, with hair to match.”
    Mair laughed, running a stiff-fingered hand through her hair. “You say that as if it’s a failing.”
    â€œNo failing, Mair. No failing at all. The green in your gown sets off your eyes.” She bit off a laugh as those eyes flashed rebelliously. “Mair, there’s nothing wrong with making yourself attractive to a man! Nothing wrong with snagging his attention as he moves between his soup and his meat.”
    â€œA man’s meat, I know. Now where’s his soup?”
    Rani smothered a laugh, reminding herself that she was about to enter the king’s apartments as an advisor, as a lady. She had to swallow a few choice comments,, as she and Mair made their way through the palace hallways. The Touched girl tugged at her green gown repeatedly, jerking the fabric about as if it had offended her in some way. She might have lived in the palace for five years, but she had yet to leave behind all the ways of a street urchin.
    Rani found it easier to remember her mission when she stepped into the king’s receiving room. A great candelabra blazed against the wall, the finest beeswax candles giving off a gentle fragrance. Farsobalinti inclined his head graciously as Rani entered the chamber. “My lady,” he said, taking the hand that she