Glasswrights' Journeyman Read Free Page A

offered and raising it to his lips as he helped her over the threshold. “Lady Mair.”
    Rani read unspoken volumes in the glance that the knight gave to Mair, in the hand that lingered on the Touched girl’s arm as he gestured both of the women into the chamber. Farsobalinti had been elevated from squire to knight the year before, and little remained in his voice or his bearing of the boy who had served his king so well for the first five years of Halaravilli’s reign.
    Giving Mair a chance to respond to the man’s attentions, Rani crossed the room, pausing by the door to the inner chamber and catching her breath, the better to hear the conversation within. She recognized Hal’s voice immediately, knowing well its serious, earnest tones. But the response, was not made by the ancient Holy Father. It was a younger man, a strident man. Rani knew that she had heard that voice before; she knew that she’d met the speaker. She started to turn to Farsobalinti to inquire about his identity, but the door to the inner chamber crashed open.
    â€œMy lord,” a page gasped, “the king is demanding to know – Lady Rani!” The boy stopped his breathless question and managed a quick bow. “King Halaravilli is demanding to know where you are.”
    â€œI’m here, Orsi, just waiting for you to announce my presence.” Rani immediately regretted her flippant tone as the boy looked confused. After all, the page was one of Hal’s cousins, the king’s heir, in fact. It would not be proper to tease the child. Rani glanced at Mair for reassurance. “Shall we?”
    â€œGo ahead,” Mair said, her smile for Farsobalinti alone. “The king asked for you, not for a dark-haired Touched girl.” Rani almost snorted; the young knight did not even wait for the inner door to close before he sidled closer to Mair. Rani’s belly flipped as she watched Mair raise a hand to straighten the nobleman’s band of mourning, but she forced herself to set aside the picture of Mair’s fingers on the man’s firm arm, of Farso’s widening smile. Rani did not have time to speculate on what the couple did in the shadows.
    Instead, she focused on the room in front of her. Orsi – Orsomalanu – Rani reminded herself, held the door open. The boy cleared his throat before addressing his liege lord. “Your Majesty.” Hal looked up expectantly, and the page bowed to his king and the visiting dignitaries. “Holy Father, Your Grace. The Lady Rani arrives.”
    Hal crossed the few steps toward Rani, his dark eyes immediately registering the single ruby around her neck. A flush rose in her cheeks as she remembered him giving her the stone, presenting it to her at the end of the summer in celebration of her eighteenth birthday. He had insisted that she wear it, and she had felt his fingers against her flesh, warm and dry. He had fumbled at the closure, and the ruby had started to slip down the front of her dress. She had caught it before it slid away, and they both had laughed easily, comfortably.
    Now, Hal looked as if he would never laugh again. In the five years since he had ascended to the Morenian throne, Hal had come into his man’s height. He was a full head taller than Rani, and over the past winter, he had increased the breadth of his shoulders, spending day after day practicing his fighting forms with his broadsword and shield.
    Half a decade of ruling had aged the king in other ways as well. Rani could see dark smudges beneath his brown eyes, smears of sleeplessness that indicated his suffering over the latest disaster to strike his city. His cheeks were gaunt, standing out beneath his unruly chestnut hair, hair that only half conceded to the weight of a crown. Hal continued to wear the black mourning that he had donned the day after the fire, and Rani wondered if Farso had needed to fight to get Hal to place the bejeweled crown across his brow.